The Messines Ridge, located just south of Ypres, is barely a gentle rise, with its highest point – the famous Hill 60 – standing only 60 meters above sea level. And yet, for three years, this unassuming stretch of land became a nightmare for the British, one that General Herbert Plumer resolved to end in an unprecedented manner in the annals of warfare.
A Hill That Saw Everything
German troops occupied the Messines Ridge in the autumn of 1914, quickly turning it into an impregnable fortress. The position may have seemed modest, but it gave the occupiers priceless advantage – the ability to observe the entire British salient at Ypres. From their deep trenches and reinforced bunkers, German observers could watch every enemy movement on the plain below.
Allied forces paid for this with blood for years to come. Every troop movement or supply transport took place under the watchful eyes of the enemy, who could call down artillery fire on a moment’s notice. Ypres became synonymous with senseless slaughter, and the Messines Ridge remained the key to breaking the deadly cycle.
In 1917, the Allied command planned a major offensive in the direction of Passchendaele. But before that could begin, German dominance of the high ground had to be removed. This task was given to General Plumer, who approached the problem in a way military history had never seen before.
A Year in the Underground Labyrinth
Tunneling under the Messines Ridge began as early as 1916. Australian and British engineers dug tunnels at depths of up to 25 meters, working in silence and darkness so as not to alert German counter-miners. It was a nerve-wracking underground war, where any sound could mean death.
Twenty-five tunnels reached their targets beneath the German positions. At the end of each, engineers created enormous chambers, filling them with hundreds of tons of explosives. Two tunnels had to be abandoned – one after a successful German counter-mine at Petit Douve Farm, another after a cave-in near Peckham. Four other charges at Ploegsteert were ultimately deemed unnecessary.
General Plumer’s plan called for perfect coordination of all attack elements. For a week, artillery bombarded German positions, while aerial reconnaissance systematically identified enemy batteries. Infantry underwent intensive training to coordinate with artillery support. Everything had to work flawlessly, as there might not be a second chance.
A Pivotal Moment
At 3:10 a.m. on June 7, 1917, nineteen mines exploded almost simultaneously. The ground shook so violently that seismographs in distant Switzerland recorded the shockwave.
British and Australian front-line soldiers had previously been instructed to crawl out from the trenches the moment the mines exploded, fearing that the blast might collapse their own positions.
What happened on the German side defied all notions of warfare. Concrete bunkers, torn from the earth, landed as if they were empty boxes. Barbed-wire entanglements vaporized in the air. Thousands of soldiers simply disappeared – estimates put the death toll at between six and ten thousand within seconds. Those who survived were left deaf, confused, and unable to fight.
Around seven thousand Germans surrendered or were captured almost without resistance. Allied infantry advanced through a landscape that looked like the surface of another planet. Where fortifications had stood just moments before, there now gaped gigantic, water-filled craters. The Messines Ridge ceased to exist as a defensive position.
Scars That Remain
One of the largest craters – Caterpillar – formed at the western edge of Battle Wood, in a spot where the Germans built strongpoints along a railway embankment. Australian tunnellers from the First Tunneling Company managed to withdraw through their passageways before detonation. Exhausted from a week of bombardment, German soldiers above ground likely never grasped what was happening.
Today, Caterpillar Crater is a tranquil pond surrounded by trees, home to frogs and occasionally visited by deer. But this picturesque scene hides a grim secret – the remains of thousands of German soldiers were never recovered. They lie where the explosion found them, twenty-five meters beneath the water’s surface.
Autor
Margot Cleverly
Margot's journey into women's history began with a box of forgotten letters in a Cambridge archive – suffragettes whose voices had been silenced for over a century. Since then, she's been on a mission to uncover the stories history overlooked.
What she writes about: Queens who ruled from the shadows. Scientists whose male colleagues took credit. Revolutionaries who risked everything. But also ordinary women – those who survived wars, raised families through upheaval, and shaped their communities in ways no one bothered to record.
Margot turns historical figures into real people. She writes with warmth and detail, making centuries-old stories feel surprisingly relevant. Rigorous research meets accessible storytelling – no dusty academic jargon, just compelling narratives backed by solid facts.
When she's not writing, you'll find her in regional archives, collecting oral histories, or visiting sites connected to the women she writes about.