Sapper Hill - 29 November 2020 - No13

Well I've final done it.  I've walked from the house up to the top of Sapper Hill.  My house is on Sapper Hill and the view from my kitchen window is of the summit and its masts.  I chatted about walking up Sappers (as its known) with one of the local policemen who told me the vehicle track up it was one of the worst on the Islands.  He also warned me against walking straight up the hill as it could be boggy.  So with all these warnings in mind I jumped over the back fence and walked straight up.

I have to say, knowing this was a battlefield in the 1982 conflict, I was somewhat reticent wondering whether there was any detritus of the war still left around.  What was under the surface?  That said the walk up was uneventful, although I was very taken by the vegetation that evidently was adapted to the difficult conditions including the evident lack of nutrients in the soil and the strong prevailing wind.

When I reached the summit I found a memorial to the Royal Engineers (the Sappers), along with the TV and microwave masts I can see from my kitchen window.  The views from the top of the hill were stunning and bleak in equal measure.  I was very taken when looking south - next stop Antarctica!

I decided to walk down the supposedly rough roadway.  My impression was it was no rougher than any loose gravel roadway up a mountain you'd find in the Isle of Man, the Lake District or North Wales.  I'd be prepared to chance it in my soon to be arriving Evoque!  (I hope the Evoque is well and truly south of the equator now!)  I was pleasantly surprised on my walk down the sheltered eastern slope.  I was protected from the wind, had stunning views and enjoyed being protected from the wind.  I need to find out why the housing I'm living in wasn't built on this slope.

At the bottom of this eastern slope I found a memorial to the Welsh Guards which recorded that their battle for Sapper Hill was the final battle in 1982 conflict.  

My walk back to the house took me along the mid slopes of Sappers where peat had evidently been cut in previous years.   I keep hearing tales of the 'Peat officer' and how each householder still has the right to cut peat... and then, there is the smell of peat burning on the fire.  When I reply that I well recall my father 'uplifting' peat cut by others on Snaefell and placing it on the fire they are all somewhat surprised that someone from elsewhere can recall such ostensibly primitive conditions.  When I add experiences of outside toilets and tin baths in front of the fire the parallels between the Isle of Man in the 1960s-70s and the Falkland Islands become all too clear!