Gëlle Fra

Stand at the low stone wall here and feel the drop beneath you. The ground falls away into a deep green valley, and a wind often rises from below, carrying the sound of traffic and birds from far down. Above you, on a tall stone column, a woman in gold leans forward into the open air. On a clear day the light catches her and she seems to glow against the sky. This is the Gëlle Fra, and she has watched over this corner of Luxembourg City for about a century.

The name is Luxembourgish, the national language of this small country. Gëlle Fra simply means Golden Lady. Officially, the structure is the Monument of Remembrance. But almost nobody here calls it that. Ask a local for directions to the monument, and you may get a puzzled look. Ask for the Gëlle Fra, and every finger will point this way. The square around you is the Place de la Constitution, set on the old city fortifications.

Look up at the figure first. She is a woman in a long flowing robe, gilded bronze from head to toe. In her raised hands she holds a laurel wreath, the ancient symbol of victory and honour. She does not hold it high in triumph. Instead, she leans slightly forward, as if she is about to lower the wreath onto someone below. That gesture matters. This is not a monument to winning a war. It is a monument to the people who did not come home from one.

The monument was created by the Luxembourgish sculptor Claus Cito and unveiled in 1923. It honours Luxembourgers who volunteered to fight in the First World War. This is the first surprise for many visitors. Luxembourg was officially neutral, and it was occupied by Germany for the whole war. Its own small force did not go to the front. So the men remembered here crossed borders on their own choice and joined foreign armies, many of them serving with France.

Now lower your eyes to the base of the column. Two bronze figures sit there, darker than the golden lady above. One soldier lies stretched out, dead. Another sits beside him in mourning. The contrast is deliberate. Up high, there is gold, light and the promise of honour. Down here, at human height, there is loss and grief. Walk slowly around the base and you will see how close these figures are to the visitor. You can almost meet their gaze.

The story of the monument does not stop in 1923. In 1940, Nazi Germany occupied Luxembourg again, this time with the aim of absorbing the country completely. A monument to Luxembourgers who fought against Germany was unacceptable to the occupiers. In October 1940 they began to take it down. Accounts from the time describe local people gathering in the square to protest, and some young students were arrested. For many Luxembourgers, the removal of the Golden Lady became a symbol of the whole occupation.

Here is the second surprise. The statue was not destroyed. For decades its fate was unclear, and the base stood incomplete. Then, in 1980, the golden figure was found under the main stand of the national stadium in the city. She had been stored there, out of sight, for about forty years. Nobody seems to know exactly how she ended up in that spot. The rediscovery caused a small sensation across the country.

After the statue was found, restoration began. The monument was rebuilt here on the Place de la Constitution and inaugurated again in the mid 1980s. Its meaning also grew. Today it remembers not only the volunteers of the First World War, but also Luxembourgers who died in the Second World War and in the Korean War. So when you look at the wreath, you are looking at a gesture that now covers several generations of loss.

The Golden Lady has also stirred debate in more recent times. In 2001, the Croatian artist Sanja Iveković created a work called Lady Rosa of Luxembourg. It was a copy of the figure, but pregnant, and it stood in the city for a temporary exhibition. Some people saw it as a sharp comment on women, war and national memory. Others felt it insulted the dead. The argument filled newspapers and reached parliament, and it showed how deeply people here feel about this statue.

She has even travelled abroad. In 2010, the golden figure was lifted from her column and shipped to China. She stood in the Luxembourg pavilion at the World Expo in Shanghai, where millions of visitors passed through. For several months, the obelisk here in the square stood without its lady. Then she returned home and took her place again. Few war memorials anywhere can say they have been hidden, rediscovered and sent across the world.

Now turn around and look out over the wall. Below you lies the Pétrusse valley, a deep, green cut through the city. Across it runs the Adolphe Bridge, with its wide stone arch. Behind it, you can see the tower of the old state savings bank building. This view explains why the monument stands here. The site was once part of the old fortress, a high point where defenders could watch the approaches to the city.

Near the monument, you may notice an entrance leading down into the rock. These are the Pétrusse casemates, tunnels cut into the cliffs for the fortress. They are a reminder that the ground under your feet is hollow in places. For centuries soldiers moved through passages beneath this square. Today the square above is calm, with benches, tourists taking photographs, and office workers stopping for a few minutes in the sun.

Before you walk away, look up at the Golden Lady one more time. Notice how the light changes on her robe as clouds move across the valley. Notice the dark figures below, and the people around you leaning on the same wall. Listen to the wind coming up from the green floor of the valley. She is still leaning forward with her wreath, offering it to everyone who stands here. For a moment, that includes you.