Today there is no 30-foot ladder resting against the brickwork laid in 1670, so New Zealanders cannot emulate the bold climb of Christchurch soldier Leslie Averill a week before the end of World War I. Yet they can explore Le Quesnoy, a quest the New Zealand Liberation Museum – Te Arawhata encourages Kiwis to undertake. Chris Barclay made the journey from London.
On a peaceful late summer afternoon, the camera angle doesn’t really do justice to the heights reached by Second Lieutenant Leslie Averill, then an adventurous 21-year-old medical student, when climbing through an oil bomb smokescreen on November 4, 1918.
His courage, and the presence of a dozen fellow 4th Battalion, 3rd New Zealand Rifle Brigade soldiers who followed his lead, soon convinced war-weary German occupiers of the walled medieval town 220km north of Paris to surrender.
The weathered sluice gate – installed on a short, narrow bridge so ducks could paddle in the moat – is still a fixture near a tunnel barricaded to deny the New Zealanders easier access to Le Quesnoy a week before The Great War’s Armistice.
An underground passageway where four soldiers cowered after Second Lieutenant Francis ‘Dith’ Evans was killed by a burst from a maschinegewehr 08 – a late act of defiance from the 83rd Reserve Infantry – also remains adjacent to where the long-lost ladder was positioned 106 years ago.
The Germans had refused to surrender at 8am and again at midday, so Averill’s battalion made its way to where Evans fell, a section of the rampart no longer heavily guarded because the defenders had pulled back.
Using a ladder requisitioned from a nearby cherry orchard, revolver-wielding Averill led the assault over the wall. He fired at a guard post, prompting two Germans to flee deeper into the town and report the breach.
Although blessed with a numerical advantage, the Germans capitulated 15 minutes later, ending New Zealand’s last major engagement of the conflict, with the loss of 122 men.
There were no casualties among the local population because the operation opted against bombarding the Germans into submission – a strategy which still endears New Zealand to Le Quesnoy residents generations later.
Averill returned to Le Quesnoy seven times before he died, aged 84 in 1981, including in July 1923 when a tribute embedded in the rampart was unveiled.
He was photographed at the ceremony, gesturing to where he climbed.
A century on, there is a cinematic, sensory and interactive memorial detailing the New Zealand Rifle Brigade’s deeds that autumn afternoon.
The New Zealand Liberation Museum – Te Arawhata, the country’s first on the Western Front, marked its first anniversary on October 11.
On the drawing board for two decades, the concept gathered momentum when the New Zealand Memorial Museum Trust – Le Quesnoy was registered in 2017 to oversee a privately-funded $15 million project in collaboration with the internationally-renowned Weta Workshop.
The battle now is to attract more visitors to the renovated wartime home of the town’s mayor.
And on the home front, museum charge de mission marketing and operations Jacob Siermans hopes the heroic episode resonates with children through Le Quesnoy: The Story of the town New Zealand saved by Glyn Harper and illustrator Jenny Cooper.
“It’s one of our major missions to get it onto the curriculum. That little picture book should be in every primary school library,” he said.
“Education is one of our most important missions. We’re about remembering what our soldiers did – lest we forget – while also celebrating the friendships that came out of the decision to not use artillery (against the Germans).”
Storytelling is also the focus at Te Arawhata (The Ladder), though not through the traditional narrative.
“Typically they (war museums) will be full of guns, medals and old uniforms,” Siermans said.
“There’s certainly a place for that, but Te Arawhata has made a concerted effort to provide a
different experience. We have no artifacts, everything is focused on the stories.
“It’s about the people, the soldiers who came here and the people of Le Quesnoy who were here under German occupation.”
After an introductory historical video, visitors can follow the life stories of soldiers and Le Quesnoy civilians via an audio visual presentation in what used to be the dining room.
The most prominent feature is a larger-than-life soldier dominating a dimly lit room partially illuminated by a digital roll of honour for the 120,000 New Zealander who volunteered to serve King and Country.
Names in white survived, those in violet perished.
The soldier, who is not based on an individual, rests in a courtyard off the town square, captured in a moment of reflection, clasping flowers to lighten the mood.
Rather than military issue khaki, his uniform is grey to illustrate the black and white frames taken after liberation by New Zealand’s first official war photographer, Lieutenant Henry Armytage Sanders, an Englishman.
A perspex ladder is also integral to the experience: it represents the pathway to rooms which provoke reflection and greater understanding, while the ground floor focuses on Le Quesnoy being freed.
Descendants of the liberators made personal pilgrimages to Le Quesnoy long before the museum was proposed – 120 old soldiers made the 50th anniversary commemoration, humbled by another hero’s welcome in November 1968.
This summer, a veteran’s son was guided to a farmhouse cellar where his father was treated in a makeshift field hospital.
“We have people crying every day,” Siermans said.
“We had a guy through whose grandfather was one of 13 up the ladder. It was an amazing moment for him. You have people living the best day of their life here.”
Le Quesnoy’s geographic isolation from New Zealand means 70 per cent of the 7000 visitors over the initial 12 months were French.
So far, six school groups from New Zealand – none yet from Christchurch or Canterbury – have witnessed where history unfolded.
“The goal is for every New Zealand school that comes to Europe (around 15-20 a year) to come here,” Siermans said.
Ideally, Te Arawhata will also be a compulsory stop on independent or organised backpacker expeditions, a French denouement to the Gallipoli Peninsula.
Siermans would welcome a Kiwi rite of passage, and mode of transport, adding Le Quesnoy to the itinerary.
“Getting Contiki (tours) to come through here would be awesome.”
While Gallipoli is the WWI pilgrimage of choice, Siermans hopes to address that imbalance, even on April 25 when the focus is on the dawn service at Anzac Cove.
As an enduring mark of respect and friendship, Le Quesnoy holds an annual Anzac Day service before its 1923 memorial.
About 150 New Zealanders attended this year’s commemoration, with numbers expected to swell in 2025.
That target audience naturally includes Kiwis living in the UK – Le Quesnoy is a manageable four hours or so by train from London via Paris or Brussels on the Eurostar.
Package tours are also planned to visit noteworthy sites – Averill’s climb and Rue Nouvelle Zelande, the road the Kiwis marched along triumphantly after the Germans conceded defeat.
You can also meander through Rangimārie, a peace garden within the fortress walls; a second green space to mark Le Quesnoy’s sister city relationship with Cambridge includes ferns and a kiwifruit vine.
While Gallipoli will be sacred for evermore, Siermans argued Le Quesnoy provided appropriate closure.
“Gallipoli formed the reputation of New Zealanders in tragic circumstances. Then you get to the Somme (in April 1916). They arrive here and it’s a different New Zealand force.
“They are under New Zealand command. A lot happened on the Western Front and we need more people to know about it.”
• More information on the New Zealand Liberation Museum – Te Arawhata can be found at: nzliberationmuseum.com
Families forever linked by heroic wartime actions
“I do remember grandad came to a couple of my classes to share the story,” said Alice, who is a third of her way through a London-based OE.
Leslie Averill lingered in Le Quesnoy after the liberation, the catalyst for a friendship with Eugene de Monteville which spanned 57 years, until the Frenchman’s death in 1975.
Second Lieutenant Averill passed away in June 1981, leaving his son Colin and de Montville’s son Henri – who died within a month of each other early last year – to maintain the family connection.
The relationship is now fostered by Alice and Florence de Monteville, Eugene’s granddaughter. They met when the New Zealand Liberation Museum opened last October.
“It’s incredible to see how such a special friendship was formed between two people who met in such extraordinary circumstances,” Alice said.
She first visited Le Quesnoy as a 10-year-old in 2008, and has vivid memories of the New Zealand Rifle Brigade’s success resonating with pupils at the school named in her great grandfather’s honour: École Maternelle Docteur Averill on Rue du 11 Novembre 1918.
“They all knew the story, they appreciated we were New Zealanders. That’s the first time I appreciated the impact we had there.
“People there (in Le Quesnoy) really do care and are amazed by the story. Leslie would be proud there is a museum now, absolutely.”
“Leslie was 21 at the time. So many of them were five years younger than I am now,” she said.
“My little brother is 21, it’s crazy to imagine them in that position. I don’t know if maturity is the right word . . . bravery.”
