Arnhem Remembered 5

Tags

Amsterdam, Amsterdam Centraal Station, Arnhem, Brexit, European Union, IJ, National Opera House Amsterdam, NEMO Amsterdam, Operation Market Garden, Royal98 Amsterdam, St Nicholas Basilica Amsterdam

Thursday 19th September. Rather than spend 6 hours hanging around Schiphol Airport, I decided to stop off in central Amsterdam for a while. I had last been there in June 1985, for the International Conference on Prison Abolition, when I was working in probation. It had been held at the Vrije Universiteit (Free University), very near the city centre, but my main souvenir was of two very enjoyable 3-hour canal trips, one of them including dinner. I hoped to pass the time agreeably once more in the same fashion, perhaps having lunch on board.

With hindsight, I wish I’d done more research in advance. It turned out that I could not have lunch on board a canal cruise, not even by buying a sandwich and eating it there. And any cruises before the evening would only last an hour. As I stepped out of the central station, Amsterdam was heaving, with tourists (guilty), and seemed pretty dirty, especially compared with the pristine newness, openness and cleanliness of the Arnhem area we had been travelling in. Of course, much of that was because the whole area had been flattened by the Nazis 75 years ago.

I took a desultory photograph or two around the station,

St Nicholas basilica

Looking back at the station

then looked for somewhere to find lunch that was not a sandwich bar, and where I could sit down. I eventually found Royal98 on Dam Square and had a very good quinoa, feta cheese and pine nut salad, in pleasant surroundings. I decided to take a one-hour boat trip on one of the offers, all of which seemed to be identical. Probably not, but I was feeling grumpy by now. I am normally a great planner, but had relied on there being a three-hour cruise I could take. Had I known otherwise, I would have done a walk round with a printed plan, and visited a museum or something into the bargain.

Anyway, still grumpy, I realised that in order to be able to sit at an open window, I was going to have to face backwards, and I couldn’t make the earphones for the English commentary stay in my ears as I did my best to take decent photos. Here are some of my efforts.

The architecture of the National Opera House is still controversial, according to the commentary.

‘The only spot in Amsterdam where you can see seven bridges at once.’

The only kind of bicycle I saw in the Netherlands – other than the tandem tricycle seen on a station platform on my first day – was the ‘sit-up-and-beg’ type, which, I imagine, has a more formal name.

The commentary encouraged us to look at the varying mansard roofs (which I still prefer to spell ‘rooves’ as I was taught).

When this waterfront was developed, houses had to be of a single fixed width. Some people got around this by buying two frontages.

Houseboats used to be cheaper form of living. No longer.

I was pleased that we went out on to Amsterdam’s main waterfront on the IJ,

Although this looks like a great liner, this was not intended. It is NEMO, Amsterdam’s science museum. Now there’s something I could have done, with a little more research.

Return to our starting point

Having still a fair amount of time, but little idea of what to do, I went inside the Basilica. Its dark (apparently) marble columns and walls reminded me of my visit to the black granite of St Mungo’s Cathedral, Glasgow.

I particularly liked the metalwork, here a candle-holder.

Back to the station, and this time I walked right through it to the rear, so different architecturally from the front. Over the road, through a cycle park, and I was at the wide open IJ once more for a final look before collecting my case from its locker, and finding a train for Schiphol.

The front of the station

The back of the station, on the waterfront

A week on, and I am trying to make sense of the whole experience, which for me is inextricably tied up with the turbulence in British politics right now, Europe-related. Musically and socially the week was most enjoyable, even if for most of the time I was singing below my preferred range. Historically, it was interesting and moving, and at times quite emotionally draining. Beatrix had arranged a wonderful programme for us.

But, thoughout the time, I was keeping a very close eye on what was happening (or indeed not happening in those very days) in Parliament, and British politics generally. Time and again, being reminded of the tragic and hateful results of war and enmity, I came back to the whole stupidity and, in my view immorality of so many aspects of the whole Brexit movement, and how it is tearing my country apart, when five years ago, 95% of its residents knew nothing of and took no interest in the European Union.

At the time of writing I can still hope that the UK will not leave the European Union, which has ensured peace among our nations for the last 74 years, given smooth trade, brought jobs, given study and work opportunities to many (including myself), ensured co-operation in matters of security and crime prevention, and just generally made the world a better place. How can anyone want to jeopardise all that? I understand the political and, (for a few very rich people, financial) reasons, and can only deplore them, and regret that ignorance and jingoism have led so many to support those political reasons.

An unusual way to end one of my travel blog series, but we live in unusual times.

Arnhem Remembered 3

Tags

Antoon Verbekel, Argyll and Highland Sutherlanders, Army Air Corps, Arnhem, Auschwitz, Bailey bridge, British Army, Dorsetshire Regiment, East Yorkshire Regiment, Freedom Museum, Military Police, Monmouthshire Regiment, Netherlands, Operation Market Garden, Pete Hoekstra, Peter Leech, RAF, Royal Air Force, Royal Canadian Air Force, Royal engineers, Royal Household Corps, Royal marines, Royal Navy, Royal Tank Regiment, Royal Welch Fusiliers, Somerset Light Infantry, St-Petrus Kerk Uden, Uden, Uden War Cemetery, War dead

Monday, 16th September was a wet day, and fortunately we did not have to go outside of the monastery, having a full day of rehearsals and a concert in its chapel that evening. I took very few photos, just two, of guests at our concert.

The first is of 97-year-old British veteran, Private George Avery, 71st Field Company, Royal Engineers. (My grandfather served behind the trenches in the Royal Engineers in the First World War, and in the Second my father in the RAF and my uncle in the Royal Navy. How I wish, like so many, that I had asked the questions when I had the chance. And, additionally this day, I was conscious that it would have been my mother’s 100th birthday.)

In September 1944 the Royal Engineers prepared for the drive north to Arnhem, and in February 1945 built the longest Bailey bridge in the world. Private Avery was at Auschwitz shortly after Liberation and says he will always remember that.

Here he is in those days. Same cheeky smile!

The other photo I took minutes later, of the US Ambassador to the Netherlands, Pete Hoekstra. He was born in the Netherlands, but moved to the US when he was three. He had been at the Freedom Museum the day before and had been urged to come to our concert if he was free. Here he is addressing us before the concert, with his wife, Diane, and ‘our’ American, Bill.

The chapel was full, with nearly 300 in the audience, the Ambassador unnervingly just feet away from us as we sang. Here our conductor, Peter Leech, is giving us concert feedback at the beginning of our rehearsal the next day, as we sat in our same places.

Tuesday 17th September. After lunch at the monastery, we set off in the coach for Uden. We were greeted there at the Commonwealth War Cemetery, right in the middle of the town, by a former mayor, Mr Antoon Verbakel. He has been for many years the chair of a group concerned with honouring those buried there, some 700, the vast majority of whom are British. He told us of the history of the cemetery, and said that, while their annual war remembrance ceremonies ares in May, he personally comes to the cemetery at the same time as – and he choked with emotion at this point – as our Queen is honouring the dead in Whitehall on Remembrance Sunday. He presented Peter with a book he had written giving the story of the cemetery, after which we were free to walk around.

A 32-year-old Flight sergeant from the Royal Canadian Airforce, 26.05.1943

A 19-year-old Trooper from the Royal Tank Regiment, 29.09.1944

A 20-year-old Private from the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, 07.11.1944

A 26-year-old Russian prince, serving with the Monmouthshire Regiment, 26.10.1944

A 20-year-old Pilot Officer from the RAF, 15.06.1943

A 20-year-old Private from the Dorsetshire Regiment, 16.02.1945

A 19-year-old Private from the East Yorkshire Regiment, 09.03.1945

A 21-year-old from the Royal Marines, 13.04.1945

A 20-year-old from the Polish forces, 31.03.1945

A 31-year-old Navigator from the RAF, 27.01.1943

A 25-year-old Corporal from the Royal Welch Fusiliers, 25.10.1944

A 21-year-old from the Glider Pilot Regiment of the Army Air Corps, 25.09.1944

A 33-year-old Corporal from the Somerset Light Infantry, 04.10.1944

An Unknown Soldier from the Royal Household Corps, October 1944

A 29-year-old from the Military Police, 13.04.1945

And many hundreds more, including servicemen from New Zealand and Australia.

It was time to walk to the parish room of the St-Petrus Kerk, where we would give our second concert. This was not just any old kerk. It was the size of a cathedral!

It was just as big inside as it was outside, as we discovered during our rehearsal.

Between rehearsal and concert, we were as bad as the youngsters…

For the concert, the church, while not packed, was very full, probably the same number as the night before. We were delighted to see Private Avery and his family there again in the front row, joining in, along with the rest of the audience, our encore, an arrangement of ‘We’ll meet again.’ The Dutch know it as well, if not better than the British do.

Arnhem Remembered 2

Tags

barnacle goose, carrier pigeon, cormorant, EU, Freedom Museum, greylag goose, Groesbeek, Nationaal Bevreijdingsmuseum, National Liberation Museum, Nazism, Nijmegen, Operation Market Garden, Rhine, Rhineland Offensive, sugar beet, Vreiheidts Museum, Waal, Wiel Lenders

Sunday 15th September. We were free for the early part of the morning as the chapel was being used for eucharist. So I went out for a short walk with Clementine and Mariske. The first thing I saw of note was a huge pile of sugar beet, a first for me.

A pleasure lake pleases both humans and cormorants

Two adjacent fields were full of wild geese, Barnacle and Greylag. The farmers do not like them, I was told.

Clementina and Mariske did not take much persuading to climb onto this sculpture ‘The sunken windmill’, on the site of a real one which had stood here from about 1300 until 1929

After a late morning rehearsal and lunch, we piled into a coach to be taken to what had, until recent renewal and enlargement, been called the Nationaal Bevreijdingsmuseum (National Liberation Museum). Having just reopened on 1st September, it was now called the Vreiheidts Museum (Freedom Museum). The Museum was the sponsor of our entire weeklong visit. The journey to Groesbeek took about 45 minutes.

Passing via Nijmegen, we crossed the Waal, a distributary of the Rhine.

As we arrived, a Dutch Band, calling itself Bill Baker’s Big Band, was playing American dance music of the ‘forties.

We stood and listened for a while, before moving to the museum itself.

The museum itself may be finished, but its landscaping has not quite yet been completed. Its dome is reminiscent of a parachute.

Once inside we assembled in the café, were given vouchers for refreshments to be taken later, and were welcomed by the Director of the Museum.

Items on sale

I don’t think this radio equipment was on sale!

Beatrix and the Director of the Museum, Wiel Lenders

As planned, we moved back to the performing area,

and sang four short items from our programme, not under the tent but in front of it. The woman singing with the band had been amplified and I was a little concerned that the audience would not be captured by our acoustic sound, but they were, and were highly appreciative. I was delighted to find that we had been singing under the EU flag.

After refreshments, we were then free to look around the museum. This was very comprehensive, and dealt fully with the build-up to WWII, its roots in WWI, poverty and unemployment, the rise of Nazism, and moved on to the course of the war, particularly as it affected the Netherlands. Here are just a few of the many photos I took, some of them not as focussed as they might have been by my less than steady hand in dim light.

A short film introducing the Museum

It was inevitable that much of the explanation had to be in text panels. These were in Dutch, English and German.

Unemployment leading to unrest

The outbreak of war, and Nazi occupation of surrounding countries. (I use the word ‘Nazi’ deliberately. I learnt later in the week that one of the two brave Germans in our group was very uncomfortable at the use of the ‘German’ in connection with the events.)

A reference to WWII in other parts of the world

The stories of individuals

A German (I can’t avoid the word here) one-person bunker, offering protection against flying shrapnel and shells.

American carrier pigeon’s uniform. Pigeons ‘were normally transported in cages. This uniform was used for short transports during which a pigeon could be tied to a soldier’s uniform with a piece of string. Paratroopers sometimes jumped with the carrier pigeon strapped against their chest.’

My time started running out. I had no time left to sit down, choose my language, and watch the mock up of the progress of the Operation.

A photo of a small part of the parachute drops in September 1944.

And I just had to rush through the last sections of the Museum

As I went round, I felt so strongly that our current politicians, many of them a near generation younger than me, should be obliged to visit this museum to understand what the EU is really all about, and why it was created.

This was ironically brought home even more as we realised that our route home was actually taking us through a small corner of Germany. Only the yellow street signs told us we had crossed a country border.

Arnhem Remembered 1

Tags

A Bridge Too Far, Amsterdam, Amsterdam-Rhine Canal, Arnhem, Bartolomiej Pekiel, Dominicanenklooster, hugo Dostler, Huissen, Huub de Lange, In Flanders Fields, J C Bach, John McCrae, Kathryn Rose, Lingewaard, Marianne Schuurmans, Montgomery, Operation Market Garden, Parry, Peter C Lutkin, Peter Leech, Schiphol, Tallis, Utrecht

I have just spent a week in the Netherlands, commemorating with an ‘International Liberation Choir’ of 24 singers, the 75th anniversary of Operation Market Garden, also known as the Battle of Arnhem. “In the summer of 1944, the Allies launched a daring airborne operation to secure the River Rhine crossings and advance into northern Germany. Although it ultimately failed to achieve its objectives, the determination and courage shown by the airborne troops and the units that assisted them made Market Garden one of the Second World War’s (1939-45) most famous battles.” (The opening of the National Army Museum’s account. See also the Imperial War Museum’s story in pictures, and a very full account in Wikipedia.)

Friday 13th September. I had had about two hours’ sleep the night before, reading far too late about the Operation, and about the authenticity of the film, ‘A Bridge Too Far’ which I had just watched, (very authentic, except that Montgomery is let off lightly at the expense of Browning), and worried that I would not wake up at 3.15.

Arriving at Amsterdam’s Schiphol airport, I boarded a train to Arnhem, where I arrived about lunchtime, despite a 75-minute delay at Bristol Airport for lack of buses from terminal to plane.

No-one with me on the upper deck of the train. Am I on the right one?

Yes

The very flat Dutch countryside

The Amsterdam-Rhine Canal accompanies the railway line as far as Utrecht, used here by a pleasure boat,

and here by a commercial one.

Examples of the double-decker train I was on, and a regional train.

Given that this was the Netherlands, I saw hundreds and hundreds of bicycles during the week. But this was the only tandem tricycle I saw, here on the railway platform of a station we passed through.

Fortified by an excellent mushroom and cheese omelette at the Robin-Hood bistro café …

Again I have the place to myself!

… I caught the no. 300 bus to Huissen, for a short walk to the Dominican monastery where most of us were to stay (several lived near enough not to have to) and to rehearse.

View from my window.

The main function of the monastery, which now has only four monks, is as a modest guest house for groups and individuals. Far from a spartan cell, my room was comfortable and a very decent size. Showers and loos were a short way down the corridor, but there was a basin in each room.

I spent the rest of the afternoon settling in and relaxing in my room, before meeting the others in the dining room for a very early evening meal. The choir was 24-strong: 12 Dutch, 9 British, two German and one American. Sadly the only Polish representative had had to drop out shortly before the week, and the organiser, the amazing Beatrix, had not been able to find a Canadian singer at all. These six countries were those involved in Operation Market Garden in 1944. The British conductor, composer, and lecturer, Peter Leech, directed the music.

Saturday, 14th September. I explored the grounds for a few minutes before breakfast.

We were not the only guests. When we arrived there was also a group in residence studying meditation for the weekend, and others came and went during our stay.

The whole of Saturday was spent discovering and rehearsing the repertoire for our concerts. Early on, the director of hospitality led Marianne Schuurmans, mayor of Lingewaard (the municipality which includes Huissen, link is to map), and the prior of the monastery into the chapel to welcome and thank us. In excellent English.

We had the splendid library to ourselves for our breaks.

Not surprisingly, our moving programme told of war, of death, of remembrance, of commemoration, and of peace and hope. It included works by composers and poets of the six nations, including Tallis and Parry, the Canadian Kathryn Rose, Huub de Lange, J C Bach and Hugo Distler, the Polish early baroque composer Bartolomiej Pekiel, the American Peter C Lutkin, and three pieces by Peter Leech. I was choking as we first sang through his ‘In Flanders Fields‘, a poem by the Canadian physician and lieutenant-colonel John McCrae, apparently well-known but which I had never come across before.

After another early evening meal, there was time for a wander round the town.

I was delighted to catch the tail end of a carillon.

Back to the monastery.

I saw an information board which told me that it had been founded in the 19th century, and had played an important role in the war, when much of the territory around had been flattened. The clean and peaceful present-day surroundings were such a contrast.

Model of the monastery and its guest house in the vestibule.

Arnhem Remembered 4

Tags

C-130 Hercules, Canadian War Cemetery Groesbeek, Dutch Military Pipes and Drums, Freedom Museum, George G Blackburn, Groesbeek, Magritte, Operation Market Garden, OPeration Market Garden commemorations, Pannenkoeken Restaurant de Duivelsberg, paratrooper, Prince Charles, Princess Beatrix of the Netherlands, South Windmill Groesbeek, Wiel Lenders, Wylerbaan

Wednesday 18th September. Before we set off for today’s events, Mariske, on behalf of all of us, presented Beatrix with some flowers to thank her for all the hard work she had put in, on a purely voluntary basis, to organise our splendid week. What a lot she had had to think about! And later, we gave a her a restaurant voucher, which will have enabled her to have good company with her as well.

Beatrix had certainly organised a full day for this our last day! After the presentation, we once more embarked in our coach, armed with packed lunch, music and costumes, and travelled again to Groesbeek, passed the Freedom Museum, and shortly afterwards stopped on the road at Wylerbaan, like many other vehicles, to catch a few minutes of a parachute drop, the first of several sessions that day. I manage to get these photos through the coach window.

That session over, we were able to move on the remaining few hundred metres to park, and walk a short distance to the spectators’ ground, encountering many people coming away from the session of which we had seen just a little.

It was time for lunch. It was going to be a while before the next demonstration.

Most of us ate standing up. The alternative was sitting on straw and dust.

In due course we were diverted by hang gliders, some, Beatrix told me, (translating from the Dutch commentary), with people making their first drop, in tandem. (Remind me to add that to my list of unfulfilled ambitions.)

I spotted some red berets eating their frites, and went over to talk to them. It turned out they were German paratroopers, volunteers for the day. They had already done one jump each and were due to do more. (I never did find out exactly who was taking part in the demonstration that day, but I had the impression there were no UK or US paras there. Perhaps they were being saved for the following weekend, when Princess (formerly Queen) Beatrix of the Netherlands and Prince Charles were attending the commemorations.)

I asked if I could take a photo of the badge of the spokesman, and got his smiley eyes as well.

The next session of parachute drops was about to start. I moved down to the fence to get the fullest view. Here they come.

And I switched to video to get the full passage of four planes, each spewing out a dozen or so paratroopers, followed up by a fifth plane, whose purpose was not clear to me.

The planes then circled round several more times to pass again and release more paras.

(This picture makes me think of Magritte for some reason.)

In due course we had to remember our musical obligations. As we left I spotted a group of four more soldiers in uniform, chatting together. One would not be photographed, but the others agreed. It turned out they were Dutch military police.

That’s one of our number photobombing!

As we walked away I got this beautifully sunlit photo of one of the C-130 Hercules. I just love it’s bottle-nosed dolphin nose! Its registration is G-273, and I’ve been able to find out that it belongs to the Royal Netherlands Air Force.

During our time in the country we had seen virtually none of that icon of ‘Holland’: windmills. But we did pass this one as we drove to our concert location. It turns out it was South Windmill, now one of many war memorials in Groesbeek. ‘In the cupola of this mill was planned the Spring offensive of 1945 by 400,000 British and Canadian soldiers… that … allowed irresistible Allied armies to cross the Rhine and end the war. … [T]he crucial role of this mill as the prime observation has been immortalized ….. by George G Blackburn, who as an artillery forward observation officer spent much of the winter of 1944-45 in its cupola.’

It was good to find that we were to sing in a more modest-sized church that evening.

After short rehearsal, we got back into the coach to be taken to a pancake house (the Pannenkoeken Restaurant de Duivelsberg). Because of coach access problems, this involved a short walk though a nature reserve.

Not only was that pleasant, it was worth it!

My cherry pancake was excellent!

It had been intended that we visit a Canadian war cemetery before the parachute drop, but time had run out, so Beatrix fitted it in now.

Post Script. I have since learned that although this is called the Canadian War Cemetery, in addition to the 2617 graves of known servicemen, the memorial is to 1,047 missing soldiers whose bodies were never found. They died during operations in northwest Europe after August 1944 when the River Seine was crossed. Their names are on the red brick memorial, and include 942 British, 102 Canadians, 2 South-Africans, and one British aviator.

There was plenty of time back at the church for us to get ready, and we were amused to be able to watch the audience coming in via CCTV!

It was standing room only for the concert, with welcome and introduction by Wiel Lenders, (Director of the Freedom Museum). His also were the thanks and valediction (‘We’ll meet again’ had again gone down very well), at the end of which each one of us was presented with a (paper) carrier bag with souvenir booklets and other items.

We departed separately after breakfast the following morning, and I spent some hours in Amsterdam. That will be the subject of the final blog in this series.