Europe still remembers America’s fallen
On the eve of last year’s Memorial Day, I traveled to the Netherlands American Cemetery in Margraten to pay my respects to my great-uncle from Chicago, Anton Dietzen, who was killed in 1944 while serving with the U.S. Army’s 2nd Armored Division, “Hell on Wheels,” as it liberated the Netherlands and pushed into Germany. What I envisioned to be a short and solitary visit to Anton’s grave turned out to be a day of communal mourning attended by thousands of local Dutch residents, whose cities, towns and villages were set free from Nazi control by U.S. and Allied forces.
As I approached the memorial tower, which stands like a lighthouse amid a sea of 8,301 crosses and stars of David, I was impressed by how pristinely the grounds were kept, like a section of Arlington National Cemetery in Northern Europe. All of the graves have been individually adopted by the Dutch people, keeping a promise they made to the soldiers’ friends and families in 1945. There is even a waiting list for future caretakers. I soon met Superintendent Keith Stadler, who helped me understand the final months of my great-uncle’s service. He arranged for an Army officer to accompany me to Anton’s grave, which lies peacefully and proudly beside a maple tree. A hero’s final resting place, amid rows and rows of heroes.
The memorial service was attended by a handful of veterans, relatives of the fallen, and military and diplomatic representatives from the U.S., Europe and abroad. The service was embraced by more than 5,000 Dutch people who came in thanks and praise of those brave soldiers who gave the ultimate sacrifice so they could be free from tyranny. Soprano Regina Davis gave a moving rendition of “We’ll Meet Again.” After the Royal Netherlands Air Force completed the service with a missing-man formation, I walked past the Tablets of the Missing, which honor 1,722 soldiers, mostly airmen, whose bodies, with few exceptions, were never found.
I then met Nowy van Hedel, a local Dutchman, who told me that Anton’s 2nd Division helped liberate his hometown. A World War II history enthusiast, Nowy offered to drive me through the villages, towns and cities liberated by the division during the final weeks and days of Anton’s life. The next day, we — the descendants of liberators and the liberated — embarked on an unforgettable journey. Nowy was playing the “Band of Brothers” soundtrack in the background; he told me this was his way of thanking America for freeing his country.
We followed Anton’s footsteps from Aachen, Germany, through the Dutch countryside to Sittard, Doenrade and Merkelbeek, where Nowy’s grandmother gratefully showed me pictures of her as a young girl sitting with American soldiers who were briefly stationed at her family’s home in nearby Schinveld. As the sun set, we crossed the Dutch-German border, passing through Minder-Gangelt, Gangelt, and finally, to the village of Puffendorf. It was here where Anton died on Nov. 17, 1944, during a vicious tank battle between the 2nd Division and Germany’s 9th Panzer Division.
Upon arrival, we met an elderly man who was a young boy during the war, and one of the last in the village with a recollection of it. He showed us where the fighting took place and brought me to within a few hundred meters of where Anton most likely fell. As we walked together — an American, a Dutchman, and a German — recalling that dark chapter in human history, I thought Anton would be pleased to know that Europe still remembers America’s fallen.
Ÿ Mark Dietzen, an Elmhurst native and 2001 graduate of York Community High School, is an international affairs analyst and consultant living in Washington, D.C.