Following the celebrations of operation Market Garden in 1994, Jan Driessen, owner of the museum "Wings of Liberation" said "I'll never do this again, I don't want to go through this organizational agony again". So, comes August 1999 and Jan is at it again, wheelin', dealin', cursin', arranging, in short, he is organizing 'his part' of the celebration of the Market Garden operation. 'His part' is aimed at, but not limited to, the troops that took part in the fighting in the Eindhoven/Veghel area and one thing we all can be sure of, it will be a celebration that will have veteran and visitor alike talking about it for years to come.

My activities relating to this year's Market Garden celebrations had already started in 1998 when I was contacted, through the Dakota Squadron, by Tom who was searching for information regarding the landing location of gliders of the 325th Glider Infantry Regiment. Tom's uncle Bill was co-pilot on one of the gliders that landed short of the landing zone (LZ-O) at Overasselt.

When the right engine of the tow plane caught fire after being hit by flak the glider had to cut loose early and both the pilot and Bill started looking for a decent spot to land. Not knowing where they really were, and not recognizing any of the landmarks they had been told about during the briefing in England, they landed, under fire, on a recently ploughed field between Hell's Highway and the Germans, in German occupied territory.

Hoping that, with darkness setting in kind of early this time of the year, they would have a chance of getting back to friendly lines later, they kept the attacking Germans at bay for several hours. As ammo ran out and all of them were wounded multiple times, they eventually had to surrender and subsequently were made prisoner of war. Marched to a clearing in some woods, to something that looked much like a command post, they were allowed to dress their wounds. Next they had to march for several more miles to a village where they spent the night in a convent or monastery. The following day they boarded trucks to be driven to a hospital camp close to Cologne. A few weeks later they went to a camp near Bonn, from Bonn to several other camps to finally end up in Stalag III A in eastern Germany.

Captivity lasted until May 4, 1945 when Bill was liberated by the Russian army ("I have never in my life seen more beautiful girls" said Bill about the Russian women soldiers riding on the tanks "they looked like real angels to us"). Via France and England Bill went home with a promise to himself never to set foot on European soil again.

But change is inevitable and circumstances combined to change his mind. In researching a book, Tom began talking to him about his time in Holland and Germany which led to Bill getting involved in the work Tom and I were doing to find the landing location of his glider, as well as the convent or monastery in which they were locked up for the night. And with the love of his life Hazel telling him he should go, Bill decided to return to Europe.

So, after 55 years, on Thursday September 16, 1999, at 0500 in the morning, Bill set foot on European ground again albeit under more friendly circumstances. Getting through customs was a breeze, collecting the car even easier and at 0700 Bill and Tom checked into the hotel, unpacked and did what most people would do after a long night of flying, they crashed into bed and fell asleep.

Now enters your author. After waking them up and giving them some time to get ready I took them, for their first bit of genuine Dutch culture, to the local wind mill for lunch.

They serve fresh bread, good Dutch cheese and even better Dutch beer in pint sized glasses. An excellent way of starting an adventure that would last for over three days and that would take us to all of the Market Garden battlefields and more. Over lunch we made some plans of how we would spend these days. Saturday would be at the museum as that was the location where Jan's celebration master-plan would be executed. We decided to use the Friday to drive into Belgium, turn around and drive all of Hell's Highway and even further to visit all battlefields and landing/drop zones including those of the 1st British Airborne Division at Ede. We would use the remaining part of this Thursday afternoon to visit both the National Monument Camp Vught, a German build concentration camp near the town of 's-Hertogenbosch and the museum in Best. For Sunday we had no specific plans yet but there would be ample time and enough activities going on to allow for a late decision.

For me, even though the camp at Vught is only a small one, a visit to the concentration camp is always a moving experience and for Bill this must have been worse as the surroundings must have brought back memories of the POW camp in eastern Germany. Watch towers, the double barbed wire fence, the model of a camp barracks; to Bill it must have been like a time warp.

The monument is only a small part of the total camp, a large part of which is used by the military. Part is used as living quarters and a further part is within the walls of a high security prison. The camp was in use for not longer than a year and a half but still the number of prisoners in the camp totaled 31000 men, women and children. A few weeks ago a beautiful monument

was unveiled, a worthy monument for the 1268 children that, on the 6th and 7th of June 1943, were put on transport to extermination camps in Germany. Not more than twenty are known to have survived. Standing in front of this monument with all the names, often of brothers and sisters, and the age, the youngest child being 1 month of age, one can only silently weep for these innocent human beings that were so brutally murdered and hope that some day the world will learn.

Part of the National Monument Camp Vught is what is called "De Fusilade Plaats", or "the firing range", a place in the woods where the Germans used to execute prisoners of the camp.

After killing them the victims would be brought back to the camp where they were cremated in one of the two cremation ovens.

Our next stop was at Best, the museum (link). Here, quite a lot of veterans of the 101st Airborne Division (actually bus loads of them) were already visiting having arrived in Holland much earlier in the week. They were on a pilgrimage of the battle fields including the famous "island", a part of Holland in between two of our major rivers. We walked through all of the buildings including the one in which they were still setting up the diorama and that officially was not open to the public yet. We visited the 'museum airforce building' that houses part of the plane collection and we had Bill go through another time warp when he was standing in front of a T34, the same type of tank that was used during the liberation of the POW camp. We met with a lot of people, took the next batch of a what would end up to be zillion pictures and generally had a good time in a great environment and beautiful weather. Enough emotions for a day and we decided to go back to the hotel so Bill, who on this same day celebrated his 80th birthday, could get some food and rest. Driving back to the hotel I took a bit of a round-about way which allowed us to visit Heeswijk castle, the castle on which Colonel Kinnard and his men miss-jumped and where Father Sampson, chaplain of the 101st AB, landed in the moat, making sure his reputation of 'never making a dry landing' remained intact.

Friday finds us up more or less bright and early (less bright and more early). After dropping Rose, my wife, off at work I head for the hotel and from there we drive into Belgium. Once across the bridge at Lommel we turn around and start driving up Hell's Highway. We make a stop at the war cemetery at Valkenswaard where we pay our respects, talked more about the war and what brought young men to sign up for the army with all the inherent risks. These war cemeteries are impeccably kept, and rightfully so, because for these young men that came from so far and gave their life for our freedom, the least we can do is keep the memory alive and their last resting place in an excellent condition.

From Valkenswaard we drive up to Eindhoven, on to the bridge at Son. From there we drive to St'-Oedenrode and the castle where Maxwell Taylor, commanding general of the 101st US Airborne Division, had his head-quarters.

The door is open so we walk in and even though people are working hard setting up everything for celebrations to come we are allowed to take a look around the courtyard. It is a beautiful little castle and seems to be well maintained.

We continue our journey in the direction of Veghel but will have to make a little detour as we are now reaching the (most likely) area in which Bill and his squad miss landed. Information collected from people who are investigating the actions during operation Market Garden points in the direction of this location. Bill's recollection "we made a 180 degree turn and came down parallel to a drainage ditch with the Germans in the woods across from us firing at us" as well as the statement from an eye witness "I saw the glider make a 180 degree turn and then it came down in that field with the Germans in the woods over there shooting at them" made us believe that we were on the right track.

So off we go to this location. This is also the moment I regret having washed the car on Thursday morning, the country roads are still kind of wet and in no time whatsoever the car is covered in mud. After some cross country driving we reach the field. Bill gets out of the car and after walking around for a while agrees with us that this could very well be the field he landed in.

The corn is still up and we can't see if there could have been a drainage ditch in the middle of the field so some doubt remains. I'll have to go back some time soon, take some new pictures and do some more talking to "the locals". Bill does remember seeing a church tower or a stack before they landed and the church tower of the village of Erp is well visible! From here we wander even further away from Hell's Highway as we now drive into the village of Gemert. This is the most logical village for the Germans to have taken their prisoners to, it was away from all the fighting, in the general direction of Germany and a hard topped road was leading from Erp to Gemert where Bill said "we were marched down a hard topped road for several miles.....".

In Gemert we asked around for monasteries and convents. Yes, there is one of each. The monks are in the castle of Gemert, but when we visit the castle Bill is adamant that this is not the building he was locked up in: "we were marching down the street and kind of turned into the building and into a room". Getting into the castle grounds was close to a hundred yards. So now we had our hopes set at the convent but first we would have lunch.

We had lunch outside the restaurant, the sun was shining, weddings were going on in the nearby town hall, the day so far had been most pleasant and we thoroughly enjoyed the view with the brides and wedding ensembles. When I went inside the restaurant to arrange for the bill there was an older gentleman sitting at the bar. Now the following conversation developed:

"Hi, could I ask you a question?"

"Joa" (yes).

"You seem old enough to have lived in Gemert for a long time".

"Al me lève" which is much like "ol me loif".

"Also during the war?"

"Joa" (yes again).

"Do you know if during the liberation there have been American prisoners of war in Gemert?".

"Bei de nonnen" ('with the nuns' he says, and points down the road). Bingo and off to the nuns we go.

At the convent we ring the bell, ready to throw in all our charms to talk our way into a convent but there was no need for that. We were most welcome and 'yes, of course you may look around, take all the time you need'. Over time the convent had been much modernized and there was nothing there to trigger Bill's memory, to allow him to say the words we wanted to hear, "this is it".

But still, it could have been the place and if the landing location is the right one this convent is the most logical place. It is at the right distance and one can walk almost directly form the street into the building and it was used by the Germans to keep prisoners. The two nuns we talked to could not really help us but they wanted to know all about what happened to Bill and kept asking him and Tom questions in Dutch forcing your author to translate questions and answers from two directions in two directions at the same time.

As we wanted to see as much of the battlefields as possible we retired from the convent leaving the ever so sweet nuns with something to talk about for weeks to come, got in the car again and drove on to Veghel. There we visited the small raidroad bridge

which was successfully defended by just a few troopers of the 101st. They prevented the Germans (attacking in company strength) from using the railroad bridge to create a bridge-head across the canal. From this bridge we drove on through Veghel, along Uden to the bridge at Grave, the first and most important target of the first day of the landings of the 82nd US Airborne Division. Landing in fields on both sides of their target, the "devils in baggy pants" took the bridge and with that controlled one of the three main bridges on the way to Arnhem. Crossing the Grave bridge brought us to the landing and drop zones of the 82nd at Overasselt. Here we took a picture of Bill and Tom standing in front of the same house that can be found in almost every book on the battle, the (old) milk factory of Overasselt. Virtually unchanged the house still stands there like it did in 1944 when the same picture was taken of the Generals Gavin and Browning.

While we were driving up to Groesbeek from Overasselt we met two guys walking along the road in original WW-2 uniforms. We quickly found out what they were doing there. A British re-enactors group had set up a Royal Artillery camp on a field in Heumen. This area was used during the battle as a temporary cemetery and many American and British soldier has been buried there before they were brought home or were re-interred at Margraten, the large American Military cemetery in the Dutch province of Limburg or the Commomwealth war cemetery at Mook. Of course we went to see the camp in which everything was set up, including a 25 pounder gun, just like it would have been in the field during WW-2. Loads of original equipment (which made your author green with envy) gave the area a very authentic appearance.

From the camp to Groesbeek and the museum. It is a very nice museum right on the drop and landing zones of the air and glider borne troops of the 82nd that were to take the bridge at Nijmegen. Basically the museum is two buildings, one containing the actual museum and the other one containing the Roll of Honor which lists all names of all soldiers that died during the liberation of the Netherlands. Organized by division it allows the visitor to find information about any of the men that lost their lives for our freedom.

Off to Nijmegen, the bridge and the Waal crossing.

Blown by the Dutch army in 1940, repaired (and later mined again) by the Germans it survived the battle only to be blown again later. At that time the bridge was not as vital anymore as additional bridges had been constructed "just in case". The location of the Waal crossing is most impressive. What guts these guys must have had to cross 300 yards of open water under fire in canvas boats and for those that survived there was at least 150 yards of washland to cross before they would find some shelter against the dike. Unbelievable. And the distances are incredible too. It was not just the water or washland - once on the dike they had to fight the Germans for another mile or so before getting to the bridge itself. And oh, yes, while they were at it, they took the railroad bridge also.

Arnhem bridge was rebuilt after the war and named after John Frost, the commander of the troops that held the north end of it for so many days against an overwhelming German force. Lots of celebrations were going on with veterans of the battle and paratroopers of the 10th Parachute Regiment. This regiment has the paratroopers that each year jump on the Ginkel heath, one of the landing zones of the 1st British Airborne Division. This year it was the last jump of these guys as the regiment is being disbanded. Something real special happened. Normally when a British regiment is disbanded the colours of the regiment are placed in a church in England. But not so this time. The colours of the 10th parachute regiment will be placed in the Hartenstein museum, once the headquarters of Gen. Urquhart, in Oosterbeek.

And that is where our travels took us next, the Hartenstein museum in Oosterbeek. We arrived there too late in the day and could not visit the museum, so this had to be saved for some other time. We walked the museum grounds and tried to imagine the fighting going on there 55 years ago. It all looks so nice and peaceful today. The flowers, the impeccably kept lawn and garden, even the guns and the tank in front of the museum cannot create a feeling of discomfort but still, little over half a life time ago men were fighting for their life right here, in this same location.

From the Hartenstein museum to the closest drop or landing zone at Wolfheze is quite a distance. In our minds we added this to the distance between the bridge and the museum. I guess we came up kind of shocked. Here we were at the closest drop zone and the distance to the bridge was ....... well, staggering. It's hard to find words to describe our feelings. We had all seen the movie and we all knew the distance from the drop and landings zones to the bridge was large but we never realized how far that really was until we added the distances we had been driving. I guess that whoever said, "Maybe it was not so much 'a bridge too far', as 'too far from the bridge'!" was right. Had the British jumped closer to the bridge their chances for success might have been much better. From Wolfheze to the drop and landing zones on the Ginkel Heath is still quite a drive. It is on these drop zones that the British 10th Parachute Regiment jumps each year. That tradition has now ended with the disbanding of the regiment due to defense budget reductions.

This put an end to our Friday. We had been going at it for over 12 hours and it was time to head back to the hotel, to hoist a brew or two, to put one's feet on the table and feel good about a day that had its unavoidable sad moments, its moments of reflection of what was and what could have been, but above all it was a day that allowed us to get a feel for the magnitude of the operation and the daring of the men fighting it. They deserve our deepest respect forever.

Continue to Part Two