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How British expats became the Third Reich's fiercest foes

Standing ramrod straight as they assemble in their blazers and caps emblazoned with BMS, the pupils of the British Memorial School fall silent as their headmaster raises the Union Jack before them.

The school captain steps forward to salute the flag. It is the cue for the entire school to launch into I Vow To Thee My Country.

From first-floor windows of their homes overlooking the playground, local children are chanting insults. They jeer at the school's quaint British tradition of observing Empire Day, with all the performance and ritual it entails.

But the pupils carry on oblivious. They perform displays of patriotic songs, drills, maypole dancing, Scottish reels and Irish jigs to an audience of proud parents and distinguished visitors.

Of any British school in the 1930s, none could surely have had such a patriotic streak as this remarkable establishment. Yet, ironically, it wasn't in Britain at all - it was in Ypres, Belgium.

And it had another unique feature: it was attended almost exclusively by the working-class sons and daughters of the British gardeners who tended the WWI Imperial War Graves nearby.

With just four teachers and 100 pupils, the school was famous as a showpiece for royalty and VIPs who visited Flanders Fields on pilgrimages and on every Armistice Day.

Indeed, it was initially known as Eton Memorial School; it was built with money raised by Eton College pupils who maintained a benevolent interest in it as a living memorial to their 342 former school friends who perished in the Ypres Salient between 1914 and 1918...


... But if parents wanted their children to have a British education, they had little option but to send their offspring back home. That is, until the BMS opened its doors in 1929. For 11 years, it served as a beacon of British values.

Yet none of the pupils can forget the day their little school was caught in the crossfire of a second world war which changed their lives for ever...

At 16, Grady was the youngest member of his resistance group. But he was soon promoted to head of his section.

He helped orchestrate attacks on the railways and waterways to hinder German supply lines and, simply by dropping nails onto the road, would stop entire German ammunition convoys in their tracks.

'But the most dangerous job was leading downed airmen to safe houses. If I was caught, I would have been shot,' recalls Grady...

... Remarkably, all three ex-BMS pupils survived the war. By September 6, 1945, the first Allied soldiers had arrived in Nieppe and Stephen Grady's father was able to come out of hiding after four years of German occupation.

Across the border, the Allies swept into Brussels and crowds lined the streets to welcome them. As they celebrated, SOE agent Elaine Madden was finally able to reveal her identity.

'There was uproar on the streets and I was hoisted on to the shoulders of the British troops. These are some of the happiest days of my life because everybody was so proud of me.'

After the war, the British Memorial School never reopened, but the community was re-established and some gardeners resumed their loving care of the Ypres war graves...
Read entire article at Daily Mail Online