Florence War Cemetery

Please God, grant him eternal rest

--epitaph on grave stone of A. Girling, age 33, Florence War Cemetery

Living in Europe for parts of three years has allowed me multiple opportunities to pay tribute to the fighting men and women of World War II.

The Gates of the Florence War Cemetery

I’ve walked on Omaha Beach. I stood at the water’s edge and considered how different things would have been on June 6, 1944. I sat in German defensive positions above Omaha and wondered what it took to slaughter thousands of on-rushing men. I walked row after row of graves at the American Cemeteries in Normandy and Maastricht, reading what seemed like endless lists of names, and quietly, secretly thanking each man for what he did. I often wondered how each man died, and with each, I hoped that somehow the end was fast and perhaps without warning—but I know that wasn’t true for all.

Whatever else we fail to do

We never fail to think of you.

                                                                                         --epitaph on grave stone of VG Govill, age 26

                                             

Finding the Florence War Cemetery just ten minutes from our vacation home in the Tuscan hills north of Florence allowed me once again to pay my respect. On the day I unexpectedly saw the road sign for the cemetery, and sometimes being more literal than proves helpful, I tried to do what it said…or what I thought it said. The dog on the other side of a fence with a sign clearly indicating that interacting with him was bad advice helped me change my mind. Instead I returned to the apartment to get Gwaz so she could go in first…

When duty called, he answered

                                                      --epitaph on grave stone of H. Westwood, age 31

Upon further review, the sign indicated that further down the road and on the

right side, we would find the Florence War Cemetery, the final resting place for 1683 Allied soldiers (from places far, far away including England, Scotland, Canada, India, South Africa, and New Zealand) who died during the conquest of Florence. The FWC is not an American cemetery, which was confirmed by the literature we found protected behind a small brass door near the entrance to the cemetery. With it was a guest book—unusual in my experience.
                                 Never a day do I forget you in my heart.
                                 You are always near --Loving wife, Amy
                                                         --epitaph on grave stone of CJ Markie, age 25

Rosemary for remembrance

Cemeteries are sad. War cemeteries especially so. But, on a spectacular, beautiful day, as Gwaz and I wandered the perfectly manicured rows of markers admiring and commenting on the dozens and dozens of varieties of flowering plants that seem to celebrate the fallen, sadness was replaced by appreciation. 

                                   
                                   Resting where no shadows fall
                                   Loved and remembered by us all
                                     --epitaph on grave stone of S. Thorogood, age 32

Along with the insignia of the soldier’s fighting unit and his personal information including the date killed, on most gravestones (of soldiers who could be identified) was an engraved, poignant message from the soldier’s family. It occurred to me that at a time of unspeakable personal grief, someone was asked to leave a message for all time. Some were short rhyming poems; some were very, very personal listings the names of family members who promised never to forget; and all were gut-wrenching testimonials to the memories of the people who were buried beneath.

In memory of a dear husband and daddy whom we love so much. God bless you Billy.

                                                              --epitaph on the grave stone of WJ Brown, age 30

As we took leave, I signed the guestbook.

Gus aM bris an la, agus an teich na sgailean

                                                                          --epitaph on the grave stone of JA Matheson, age 23

                                                                          (from Song of Solomon, "Until the day breaks and the shadows shall flee..."