by Paul Van Pul
Christiane Kemp.
Of course at that moment the nautical expertise of Dingens was not critical anymore: the tactical situation had stabilized, the engineers had the hydraulic problem under control and lockmaster Kemp from Furnes could give them all the advice they needed.
Lockmaster Receiver Victor-Cyrille Kemp in Furnes is a man who has often been overlooked in history. He was born in Boesinghe on the Ypres Canal, a few miles north of Ypres in 1860. At the age of twenty-nine he started his career as a Lockmaster Third-Class at the lock in Boesinghe itself. In 1907 he was promoted to Lockmaster Second-Class when he moved to the Dunkirk Lock in Furnes. At the same time he became a receiver in order to collect toll rights at that location.
During the war he never abandoned his post and unswervingly served the Allied cause. Since the canals in the region were less prone to damage from German bombardments they were used to transport large quantities of goods from France to free Belgium. As a result Kemp often locked through thirty barges a day in Furnes. He got a final promotion in 1919 when he moved to Bruges as a Lockmaster First-Class. He passed away in Bruges in 1940.
On 18 or 19 October 1914 an officer, possibly Major Le Clement de St-Marcq but certainly not Robert Thys, got in touch with lockmaster Dingens at the Goose Foot in Nieuport to discuss the idea of inundating the Nieuwendamme Creek and to get his advice. Dingens was not in favour of using seawater to inundate the polder because this would have an adverse effect on the arable soil and contaminate the fresh water supply of the farmers and their livelihood, its cattle. Also the brickworks, located behind the sluice and the only major industry in the region, would be severely affected.
More than likely he offered an alternative: 450m upstream of the Yser Lock the Nieuwendamme Creek touched the Yser Canal levee. In that spot the Nieuwendamme Gates, built into the dyke connected the Yser with the creek. Lifting these gates would allow the military to flood the creek with fresh water from the Yser.
The Nieuwendamme Gates on the Yser in 1991 as seen from the creek. Top left the five gearboxes to lift the doors. As can be seen from the lowered racks, all the doors are closed, hidden behind the installed stop planks. This outmoded structure is the oldest original weir in the region.
Author’s photo archive.
From other information from Dingens, concerning the high water levels and the expected spring tides in the Yser Mouth, Le Clement learned that in the next two or three days the high water curve would be peaking, i.e. a series of spring tides was approaching. Back at the command post, after having reviewed all the figures and the information from Dingens, the idea was further discussed.
Although the use of the Nieuwendamme Gates would have less impact on the polder environment, there were a few important tactical disadvantages. These lift gates, being isolated and exposed on the north bank of the Yser, would be a nightmare to operate: each time a sapper would have to cross the Yser or he would have to run the enemy gauntlet for 400m along the naked northern Yser levee.
A seawater flood through the Spring Sluice could be set faster, better and simpler than opening the Nieuwendamme Gates and letting fresh water fill the polder. Finally, after getting back in touch with the lockmaster, Le Clement de St-Marcq asked him for his assistance with the undertaking but the man refused.
In essence Dingens did not want to be blamed by the peasants of the polder, nor the Furnes North-Water Board, nor the directors and factory workers of the brickwork, in a week when the battle would be over, that he had ruined their lands, water and industry.
Soon after the war which had lasted four years instead of one week, when he noticed that he had lost out to a simple, unlettered bargee in becoming a national hero, Dingens had to ‘adjust’ his account of events in order to justify his behaviour.
The 140-year old gates of the Nieuwendamme Creek as seen from the Yser River. This outdated hydraulic gem is set in the northern levee of the Yser, a few hundred metres east of the Ypres Lock.
In ‘When Can Memories Be Trusted?’ (Time Magazine, 28 October 1991) Ulric Neisser, psychologist at Emory University, is quoted as saying: ‘[Clarence] Thomas 1 is a rigid person who insisted on the prerogatives of his position, such people can be ‘good repressors’ of unpleasant memories.’
Perhaps Gerard Dingens was a man who fitted that category.
NOTE
1. In 1991 appointed Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court after a much publicized congressional hearing involving the accusation of sexual misconduct by law professor Anita Hill.
Appendix II
Roads & Bridges Mysteries
We read in Chapter XII that on 26 October three engineers of the Roads & Bridges Department left Le Havre for Dunkirk. They were dispatched by their boss, the Minister of Public Works, George (Joris) Helleputte.
The reader will remember that, upon receiving the request from Baron de Broqueville, it took almost twenty-four hours before the engineers left Le Havre and then again, it took those three gentlemen an unusually long time to travel from Le Havre to Dunkirk. Looking at their whereabouts even more closely the reader will discover that they spent exactly one hour and a half in Furnes, the prime centre of all the activity. Considering all the urgency and the tremendous importance of the project for the survival of their country it seems as if these experts on the coastal waterways showed little enthusiasm for their assignment.
We know already that lockmaster Dingens opposed any floods for the commendable reason that he did not want to compromise the livelihood of his fellow countrymen in the flood plain. Engineer L. Bourgoignie, also a man from the coast, was the Head of the Coastal Service of Roads & Bridges in Ostend. On the one hand it stands to reason that in that capacity he personally knew the lockmaster in Nieuport rather well. Evidence of that exists today.
On the other hand, from the technical remarks he made to his different interrogators, we get the firm impression that Bourgoignie opposed a flood in Furnes-Ambacht just as adamantly as Dingens; he just used more diplomatic language. There is another document that raises questions in this regard. Historians Marie-Rose Thielemans and E. Vandewoude published the original of a cable, written by Captain Commandant Galet and dated 26 October. The cable is addressed to ‘J.H.’ in Le Havre and signed by King Albert. It reads: ‘Answer: Return and resume your work.’ Thielemans and Vandewoude suppose that the terse response by the king involved a cable on a rather trivial matter of exiled Antwerp municipal employees. This earlier dispatch, of which the exact subject(s) and wording seem to be unknown, had been sent to the king’s orderly officer in Furnes. Thielemans and Vandewoude suspect ‘J.H.’ to be General Harry Jungbluth, the king’s long time mentor. Besides the fact that the initials then would have to be ‘H.J.’ it is highly unlikely that a Francophone high-ranking officer would have been involved in a local Flemish and purely civilian public sector dispute.
Contrary to what both editors suspect, we argue that this cable was most likely addressed to the Minister of Public Works, George (Joris in Flemish) Helleputte. This pro-Flemish politician used to initial his documents ‘J.H.’
A group picture of the lock staff, a few years before the war. In the front row on the right sits lockmaster Dingens and next to him we see chief engineer Bourgoignie from Ostend. Shortly after the war, and by order of Minister Helleputte, Bourgoignie would write a detailed report of the events of October 1914. In it Bourgoignie was very critical about the work of the military engineers.
Historical prints collection Callenaere-Dehouck.
On 26 October Bourgoignie and his assistants left their minister ‘J.H.’ en route for Dunkirk and Furnes. From his own account we understand that Bourgoignie apparently only met with people, either indifferent to the Belgian cause, like the French Chief Engineer Bourgois, or people who were more or less loosely associated with the Broqueville-clan: Chabeau, Wielemans, Jamotte and de Broqueville himself. The three of them certainly never met with people like Galet, Nuyten or the military engineer par excellence in the field, Robert Thys.
One would expect those civilian experts to roll up their sleeves and do something in Furnes or Nieuport but apparently they ‘came, saw and left’. Was this lack of initiative and action due to personal unwillingness or was it upon higher order to ‘Return and take up your duties again’?
In our long research of this story we were unable to retrieve any information on the personal files of any of the Public Works employees mentioned in all of the previous pages. What we did find however were several letters indicating that Lieutenant Colonel (Reserve) Robert Thys in 1960 had already conducted a similar search for the files of the lock personnel from Nieuport in 1914. Unfortunately the initial question(s) by Thys could not be retrieved although his original request should still be available in Public Works Archives. But we do possess a copy of the answer by the then Deputy Chief of the Cabinet at Public Works. In it the man admits that:
‘… after long research in the archives … it is not permitted to find documents related to the events that happened in Nieuport in 1914 during the Battle of the Yser.’ Peculiar wording indeed.
The next day Robert Thys did sent a telling reply: ‘I thought as much that it would be impossible to retrieve any documents on the subject of the lockkeepers of Nieuport in 1914. Excuse me for causing any inconvenience but I wanted to make really certain. …’. [Our italics]
Did Thys suspect someone in higher office of having removed the files of the lock personnel after the war? Could that someone have been Bourgoignie himself?
From one letter by Thys to Lucien François in June of 1960 we learned that he had prepared what he called a Tile Dingens’ and that he was to question the burgomaster of Nieuport on this matter the next month. As Thys spent most of his later years in Nieuport – he passed away in this city in 1964 – he was well known here and a meeting between him and the burgomaster on this subject must certainly have taken place. Nevertheless upon our written enquiry to Nieuport officials in 1994 they responded that they too had been unable to retrieve any information on the matter.
Another mystery that was never solved was the sudden departure of all higher personnel of the Coastal Service on 13 October (see Chapter IV).
After the series on ‘The Legend of the Lockkeepers of Nieuport’ in La Flandre Liberale in which the question was put – ‘Where were the Roads & Bridges personnel?’ – a letter to the editor was published on 16 June 1920. In it one of those public servants who wanted to remain anonymous, wrote: ‘We left in the morning of October 13 on orders from the higher administration.’ One wonders if it was not Bourgoignie himself, a native of the coast and part of that higher administration, who had ordered their departure in October 1914.
An idyllic view in a time of war: the weir on the Great Beaverdyke Vaart some time after the abutment pier collapsed. In the background war ravaged Nieuport.
Nieuport 1914–1918, R. Thys, 1922.
One can argue that the Roads & Bridges personnel were pulled out because certain individual(s) in the administration considered the whole Belgian war effort a lost cause. In giving them their marching orders the administration certainly deprived the invader of the technical know-how to inflict serious damage, like floods, to the local infrastructure. It would in a way explain the lack of enthusiasm when the engineers returned to Furnes as advisors on 26 October.
Appendix III
A Royal Treatment
After the war a lot of criticism was aired concerning the fact that Charles Cogge was paid for his trip with Captain Thys to the Spanish Lock. The strong patriotic feelings that swept the country after the Armistice dictated that the man, as a public servant, should have volunteered his services for the good of the country. According to some, High Command had ‘bought’ Charles, while others maintained that the man had simply solicited money for something that they considered simply his duty as a civil servant. Putting aside such criticisms one should take into account the rough, pre-war welfare situation.
The social and financial conditions in the Cogge family were certainly not bright. As a young mother Mietje had lost ten of her twelve infant children and now, at the age of fifty-nine, her husband was an ailing man. Mietje did have good reason to worry about their future. On the other hand, for Captain Thys it was more than imperative that the feeble supervisor accompany him on that important trip. Charles knew the polder, with its tens of vaarts and hundreds of brooks, like the back of his hand. He was the only man still in Furnes who would be able to direct the engineers, in the middle of the night, via the shortest, quickest and safest way to the Spanish Lock. Since it was quite likely that the enemy had now reached the opposite bank of the Yser Channel, Thys and his men could only open the heavy doors under the cover of darkness. If Charles did not join them the operation would have to be postponed for at least another twenty-four hours. That was something the army, and the nation, could not afford anymore.
Captain Thys knew that Mietje’s objections were genuine and that they were irrefutable. But he also knew that Charles as breadwinner had to provide for the daily bread on the table. So the Cogge family needed money. That was the only argument that would persuade Mietje to give up her protest.
On 1 November Charles was recommended to be knighted in the Order of Leopold. Three days later King Albert personally pinned the medal on him. The story goes that, lacking the proper medal, the king used Colonel Wielemans’ own Knight’s Cross as a replacement. The remuneration of the 2,000 francs though was another story.
Since after the war all authors, except one, mentioned that 200 francs had been promised to Charles we at first assumed that this was correct. Only M. Nevej ans wrote that he had received 2,000 francs, which we therefore assumed as being a misprint. But during ongoing research after the publication of the Dutch version of this book in 2004, we unexpectedly came across two original, carbon copies of documents, written in July 1916 and both signed by Robert Thys, in which he reminded High Command that it still had to pay 2,000 francs to Cogge. Our discovery emphasized the importance of the operation. While 200 francs seemed to be a decent reward for Charles’ contribution to the survival of the nation, 2,000 francs was simply royal treatment.
Subsequently we made some enquiries into the practical value of such an amount of money in those days. As a result Guido Demerre, retired principal of the Saint-Bernardus High School in Nieuport and local historian, told us that the grandfather of his spouse, who was a principal in Alveringhem during the First World War, received a yearly salary of 2,000 francs.
Whether or not the outstanding 2,000 francs were finally paid out in 1916 remains a mystery to this day.
After the war King Albert enjoyed enormous popularity. He prematurely died, according to official documents, from a climbing accident in 1934.
Ons Land magazine, 1919.
Appendix IV
German Ignorance
How was it that the Germans ignored the fact that the whole coastal area could be inundated at will? This is of course a key question. Apparently at German High Command nobody grasped the fact that the entire Flemish coast lay under the high water mark. However, along the German North Sea coast a similar topography existed, over an even larger tract of land. In spite of the proverbial Deutsche Grundlichkeit [German thoroughness] this blindness was certainly a failure on the part of German intelligence.
The Belgian Army had, in its recent history at least, not prepared for any flooding along the coast. Nevertheless the technical knowledge about floods was still taught at the Royal Military Academy, but solely in connection with the planned floods around the Fortified Place of Antwerp (for details see below).
The lack of such plans in this direction therefore might have fooled German High Command into thinking that the right conditions for such a project did not exist. But there is also a more scientific basis for the German ignorance. Since it has a little technical twist to it we are bound to engage in some explanation.
Originally ordnance maps in each European country were produced based on a national grid system. Besides the
importance of knowing where you are, for the military planners it is also important to know the elevation of the land. For that purpose a general levelling was carried out, resulting in contour lines at certain intervals on each map. For the origin of this national levelling, that is the ‘zero’ of the system, each country started from its own reference point. In fact this ‘zero’ was arrived at through a mathematical formula after the observation of a series of high and low tides at a predetermined coastal location.
In 1875 the first Prussian General Levelling was started, strangely enough from a point in the Dutch city of Amsterdam, called Nieuw Amsterdams Peil (N.A.P.). This basis was agreed upon as cooperation between the Dutch and Prussian governments, but the Prussians would later come to call it Normal Null (N.N.). The original Amsterdams Peil (A.P.) had been determined in 1684 as being ‘the average height of summer high tide on the IJ River near Amsterdam’.
In 1875 a general levelling was also carried out in Belgium. To arrive at its ‘zero’ (called zero Z) the Belgian Roads & Bridges Department started from a point in Ostend harbour determined before 1856 as, ‘the average height of ebb tide at spring tide in Ostend’.
So, since each country started from a different reference point there was of course a difference in height between the two systems. In practical terms the German Normal Null was located 2.40 m above Belgian zero Z.
When the German Army invaded Belgium in 1914, the officers used German reprints of Belgian ordnance maps. For all purposes this should not have posed a problem. Elevation for instance is important to the artillery, but only as the difference between altitudes, like between gun emplacement and target. As long as the artillery calculates differences in elevation within the same levelling system, here meaning the same country, nobody will encounter any difficulty.