“The battle of Verdun was the longest, if not the bloodiest, single battle in World War I. Launched by the German Fifth Army on 21 February 1916, it did not come to an end until the final French counterattack was ended on 19 December 1916. For most of 1916, German and French soldiers fought tooth and nail for a few square miles of terrain around the French fortress city of Verdun, in what was the quintessential “battle of attrition” of World War I. Most units of the French army and many of the German army fought in what was described by both sides as the “hell of Verdun.” Between the battle’s start and the end of August (when the Germans ceased offensive operations), some 281,000 Germans and some 315,000 Frenchmen were killed or wounded. . . .” - Dr. Robert Foley, Dean of Academic Studies/Head of Department at the Defence Studies Department, Joint Services Command and Staff College (JSCSC), the Defence Academy of the UK. https://www.facebook.com/notes/charles-bloeser/fathers-day-2018-a-veteran-returns-to-verdun-to-honor-the-dead/10156262002281438/

1. CHARLES BLOESER · SUNDAY, JUNE 17, 2018
Father’s Day 2018: A Veteran Returns
to Verdun to Honor the Dead
“The battle of Verdun was the longest, if not the bloodiest, single battle in World War I.
Launched by the German Fifth Army on 21 February 1916, it did not come to an end until
the final French counterattack was ended on 19 December 1916. For most of 1916, German
and French soldiers fought tooth and nail for a few square miles of terrain around the
French fortress city of Verdun, in what was the quintessential “battle of attrition” of World
War I. Most units of the French army and many of the German army fought in what was
described by both sides as the “hell of Verdun.” Between the battle’s start and the end of
August (when the Germans ceased offensive operations), some 281,000 Germans and some
315,000 Frenchmen were killed or wounded. . . .” - Dr. Robert Foley, Dean of
Academic Studies/Head of Department at the Defence Studies Department, Joint Services
Command and Staff College (JSCSC), the Defence Academy of the UK.
Note re author (1 January 2018):
We would have celebrated my father’s birthday with him this Wednesday. But he died
nearly four years ago in a veterans’ home, surrounded by family and friends who for
months found ourselves shackled, unable to rescue him, as we watched a glioblastoma
empty dad from the inside.
Like the grandfather I’m named for, dad was an Army Veteran. But he also served in the
USAF. And some years before brain cancer came calling, several autumns before my mom
received a tri-folded flag that she didn’t want yet, my dad wrote these 8 paragraphs about
a return visit to soldiers who died in combat in what was to have been the last war. Ever.
“The 11th Hour of the 11th Day of the 11th Month”[i]
Carl H. Bloeser
In the history of warfare no greater insanity is recorded than the Battle of Verdun.[ii] Never
have so many died or been maimed for such an insignificant piece of land.[iii]
It was on the 11th day of the 11th month sixty nine years after the Armistace that I found
myself once again at Verdun. I had traveled there the previous night under a full moon that
did its best to illuminate plowed fields and meadows that were covered with a low and
Edit Note

2. concealing fog. The only movement I could see off the road was a tractor slowly plowing in
the distance with its lights disappearing and then re-appearing as it moved along the edges of
crafted rows. A thousand ghosts had to enjoy the serenity and the tranquility of that night.
Verdun was ahead and it was late. As in earlier years I would look for a room in a loft and one
above the [b]ar and a place to eat. The small hotel I chose brought life to the night in a town
where death had consumed so many. The chill so common to that part of France in
November was broken by the laughter and the talking of a family around a long and ancient
table close to where I had chosen to finish my day with a glass of wine and a sandwich.
Early on the eleventh day of the eleventh month I went out to walk the streets. The very best
of Europe I have often found in the quiet of early morning. It was cold. I had to wonder how
many armies slept and drank and did what armies do in the streets and the shops and the
bars and the homes all in sight of the towers of Verdun’s cathedral. The only sounds I heard
were the voices of Arabs talking and laughing with each other. I wondered if they were from
Algeria or Morocco or from some other place far from home. In that, we both had something
in common. The smell of the morning was from the bakery making [croissants.] The day was
just beginning . . . the hour of eleven on the eleventh month of the eleventh day sixty nine
years later was still off in the distance.
It was time to return to the warmth of the hotel and a hot cup of coffee. As I passed through
the hotel door the proprietor didn’t look in my direction. After all, over many years numbers
of people must have come and gone through that door at all times, days and seasons. One
more wouldn’t warrant his attention. Breakfast appeared to be his morning obsession. As he
walked from behind the hotel bar he seemed determined to maneuver the half-smoked and
dangling cigarette away from the coffee pot he carried. Morning bread was already on the
table along with jams and jellies of various types and colors in petite bowls of clear crystal.
Creamy butters with curled ridges adorned the small plates next to each bowl. At each end of
the table two white bowls filled with boiled eggs stood in command over his temporary work
of art. Silver, plates, cups and cloth napkins were gathered on a small table nearby. Nothing
was packaged. What an insult that would have been to this man. Everything was in its proper
place. It was time for the morning breakfast concert to begin. Only then did he look up, say
good morning and slowly limp from the room.
After breakfast I toted my bag to where the car was parked, opened the door, tossed the bag
in the back seat and reached for an open map. I decided that the day would center around
visits to towns and villages of the living, monuments to those who had died, and to those
places where the dead are buried. I knew from visits long before [that] I wouldn’t have to
drive far in any direction.
As I approached my first mark on the map I found an area in which to park. Walking toward
the first place to visit I remember looking up at a nearby building. Of many frosted windows

3. Carl H. Bloeser, M.P.H,
M.A.P.A., U.S. Army, U.S.
Air Force veteran, 1939-
2013
one caught my eye. Lace adorned its glass. A small smiling face pressed her nose against the
window and smiled to this stranger walking in the cold. I smiled back. Her smile warmed the
moment.
The building of the living wasn’t that far from the graves. Close-by a painted sign read
“Cimetieaes Militaires Francais.” Buried there were those who died in the “War to end all
Wars.” They would never know of that failure nor did they know that their sons and
daughters would join them soon in Flanders [F]ields. A late fall leaf had landed on a
boundary wire. The frigid wind poked at it to join the dead. A gentle mist fell from the wire as
though shedding tears for those buried here. A small bird nearby searched for food – but
even it did so in silence. This was indeed a place of the dead. The eleventh hour had come and
gone.
. . .
Carl H. Bloeser. “The 11th Hour of the 11th Day of the 11th
Month.” Unpublished work. Copyright 2001. Original posting 1
January 2018 on LinkedIn.
#Verdun #BattleofVerdun #glioblastoma #veteranswrite
#WorldWarI #wartoendallwars #carlbloeser #combatstress
#combattrauma #PTS #shellshock #KIA #WesternFront
ENDNOTES
[i] Dad died from brain cancer before he could put the finishing
touches on this essay. As such, the version used for this
LinkedIn/Pulse article contains a parenthetical note that the
essay is a “work in progress.” A ninth paragraph that is not necessary to this essay and which
doesn't follow the textual pattern of the 8 paragraphs presented here - has been excluded.
The 8 paragraphs presented here are as dad wrote them - except for minor typographic
adjustments for clarity and the decision to use common spelling of "croissant." Because this
essay was created after Jan. 1, 1978, copyright protection is asserted on behalf of Carl H.
Bloeser from date of creation, i.e., 2001. Endnotes are not part of the original manuscript but
have been added to provide further context. Endnotes by Charles Bloeser:
https://www.linkedin.com/in/charlesbloeser/
[ii] Dr. Robert Foley is Dean of Academic Studies/Head of Department at the Defence
Studies Department, Joint Services Command and Staff College (JSCSC) at the Defence
Academy of the UK. Inter alia, Dr. Foley was awarded the Royal Historical Society’s
Gladstone Prize for his work, German Strategy and The Path to Verdun (Cambridge, 2004).

4. In the preview to a 2012 article about the Battle of Verdun, Dean Foley provides this
summary: “The battle of Verdun was the longest, if not the bloodiest, single battle in World
War I. Launched by the German Fifth Army on 21 February 1916, it did not come to an end
until the final French counterattack was ended on 19 December 1916. For most of 1916,
German and French soldiers fought tooth and nail for a few square miles of terrain around
the French fortress city of Verdun, in what was the quintessential “battle of attrition” of
World War I. Most units of the French army and many of the German army fought in what
was described by both sides as the “hell of Verdun.” Between the battle’s start and the end of
August (when the Germans ceased offensive operations), some 281,000 Germans and some
315,000 Frenchmen were killed or wounded. The battle ended in obvious defeat for the
German army, which led to the replacement of the German chief of the general staff,
General Erich Falkenhayn. . . .” Military History: Battle of Verdun | | DOI:
http://dx.doi.org/10.1093/obo/9780199791279-0021 (published online February 2012);
preview accessed Jan. 1, 2018 at:
http://oxfordindex.oup.com/view/10.1093/obo/9780199791279-0021# (endnote not
original with author of essay)
[iii]Dr. Foley explains that “. . . the British historian A. J. P. Taylor once described the battle
of Verdun as “the most senseless episode in a war not distinguished for sense anywhere.” Id.
(endnote not original with author of essay)