Operation Market Garden, a monument and a military cemetery

An Awakening

A woman visits my dreams. Some sort of movie marathon is on, but she was more worthy of my attention. Erudite, well-spoken, she reminded me that effort and simply trying are worth more than perfection ever will be.

Though her visit puts a smile on my face, 0736h comes and briskly removes it as it announces today's weather: -6 C and a RealFeel factor of "even colder", whatever that might mean. I am not even sure if my jacket is prepared for this week, but I have no doubt that I will find out soon enough.

Breakfast at the hotel was quaint, rustig with few people present. Royalty-free lounge music ensures the line between slumber and standing remains blurred. For my own safety, I elected to remain seated.

The front desk clerk doubles as the cook. After I serve my own plate, she offers to make more eggs for a businessman who enters just behind me but regrets to inform him that they are now out of bacon. I quickly finish my plate lest he observes the final two bacon strips on my plate, but I do not think I was quick enough - his grumpiness towards the clerk is extended towards me with ample generosity.

As I finish my meal, I begin to wonder about the act of service. It is not often we proudly provide service of our labour for another. Especially if we were to do it for free.

Packing my day bag and heading out, I finally realize what that RealFeel factor means: that degrees Centigrade don't really mean much. -6 C feels more akin to -11 C which feels more akin to a desire to stay inside.

A train and a bus filled the gap between the hotel and today's museum, and I was keen to overcome that gap behind as many closed doors as possible.

Mobility and Militarism

Transit remains simple here in Arnhem. The city has constructed a commendable central station[^1], and what it lacks in trams it easily makes up for with buses - especially the recognizable trolley buses throughout the city centre. I have always found trolley lines an added boon in navigating the city by foot, as they are more recognizable and easier to follow than simple tram tracks, in my opinion. I once knew the benefits of the trolley system over simple buses, but in today's era of groene gas, I can at least admit they look nice.

Today's theme was the Operation Market Garden and the Battle of Arnhem, an ill-fated push by the Allied forces (mostly British with Polish support) to harass German forces by airdropping behind the Westwall or Siegfried Line.[^2] I need not relay the story here, many have endeavoured to do the same before me to much greater effect and efficacy. I can merely humble myself, as a student of martial history, to the weight such a story carries with it.

A monument dedicated by General Urquhard. Names like Bingley, Stillwell, Kerns, Beekhuizen awarded various medals of honour by British, Polish, and even Resistance Forces. The story of Leuitenent Colonel Arnholdus Wolters' teddy bear, and the likelihood of its veracity. A photograph of Kate ter Host, de engel van Arnhem. A painting by David Shepherd titled Het Kruispont painted in either 1960 or 1964. The complications present in identifying German fallen soldiers due to their service tags only having a service number present and no other identifying information. The perpetually parked M4A4 Sherman Tank present outside the museum's structure (the former Inn used by Allied forces as a forward command post, no less) that came much later than hundreds of souls would have wished, their screams of anguish and despair still discernible to those who listen closely.

It is easy to drown oneself in the seas of research and re-telling behind many Battles of Consequence, and Arnhem is no different. I will not insist on any work of research or media over another, but I will mention the two films worth noting:

- Richard Attenborough's 1977 [_A Bridge Too Far_](tab:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Bridge_Too_Far_(film)) based on a [written account](tab:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Bridge_Too_Far_(book)) of Operation Market Garden published in 1974 by Cornelius Ryan, and;

- Brian Desmond Hurst's 1946 [_Theirs Is the Glory_](tab:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theirs_Is_the_Glory) a less picture perfect snapshot of Allied actions but a more accurate atmospheric look at the British fighting, and civilian cost, in the village of Oosterbeek (where the museum is located and where the initial landing took place).

One further book that was added to my list was a [new publication](tab:https://www.penandswordbooks.com/9781399045919/from-the-soviet-gulag-to-arnhem/): _From the Soviet Gulag to Arnhem: A Polish Paratrooper's Epic Wartime Journey_ written by Nicholas Kinloch and published just in 2023.

Leaving the museum, I continued to the nearby cemetery on foot. I was initially under the impression that this would be purely a military cemetery, but it seems that there are two sections. The Northern section being the military section of the cemetery, largely dedicated to the Commonwealth and Polish soldiers fallen during the Battle of Arnhem and the Southern section seemingly being a civilian section.

Few things within the realm of safety make one so grateful for life as strolling through the common legacy of death: a rock, some words, and fresh flowers if you are lucky. The civilian side of the cemetery had seen better days, though with all the water pipes frozen out here in the fields, I understand that this disarray may be seasonal.

Moving to the military section, what is there to say? These were lives lost to the crashing wave of war, a war that came both under much anticipation and much quicker than realized; as most wars approach the citizenry. At least 21 unknown fallen souls gives one much to think, as do many of the poems inscribed upon the identified fallen. One catches my memory:

"Sleep on, dear one

and take they rest

to awake again

where all is blest"

- Private R. L. Wallis Hampshire Regiment 2nd October 1944 Age 25

A modest reflection left in a corner of my notebook offers the closest I think I can manage for closing remarks when visiting such a site:

"Hard to capture much by just my pen. Bleak, hopeful - daunting."

Make of that what you will.

Return to the City

It was a further, longer walk and a bus ride to get back to town. I was not complaining, as pensive moods do not leave me quickly. On the walk back, I did notice that again this day, a Tuesday, seemed to be one with fewer establishments being opened. Arnhem seemed to have little open on both Monday and Tuesdays by design, and Sundays by tradition. I find that an interesting practice, mostly as I have not seen it before, but also as it seems to be a rather confused practice - one eatery I attempted to patron was closed, though their digital footprint said otherwise. A Robin Hood-themed eatery I did patron was situated in the converse.

That aside, already the fresh air, hills and general new setting has driven home the limitations of the metropole. In the city, it is harder to notice what surrounds you when so much focus is upon the whom. I am thankful for the opportunity to again stretch my mobility muscles, as I fear they atrophied much more than I had realised.

Pensivities scribbled into my notebook, and stomach filled on croquettes, mushrooms, and two biertjes, a second wind was in order. This evening's wandering led me to an establishment known as Taphuis - a pour-your-own bierhuis in an old post centre.[^3] I procure my very own taphuys tappas, allowing me to pour my own beers and pay by the cL.

Though half the work is seemingly outsourced to the guests, this location is actively hiring despite its large staff presence this Tuesday evening. That said, I can see why it has already made a name for itself.

The novelty of trying different beers wears off quickly, and with 15EUR remaining on my card, I depart for the evening, making a note to return later. The sun has since set, and few locals seem keen on being out with nowhere to go.

After the beers, arriving early to the hotel room - Hairy Bikers Go Local on BBC Two in the background - I sit mulling today's thoughts of death in my mind. What would my tombstone say? I've accomplished little in my time here, and I pray I outlive my parents. What would be uttered as a marker of my passing?:

Here lies a Reader-in-Exile

call sign: sideritis

1992-2024 age: 32

Looking at it again, that does not seem too bad. A plant or two overhead, some good trees nearby, and a nesting bird picking through the leaves, my soul will rest peacefully.

As I hope to do so myself.

---

[^1]: Though the station dates back to 1845, it suffered significant damage during the Battle of Arnhem and with reconstruction beginning as early 1954, its initial post-War reopening, it culminated in a re-opening of the great hall in 2015, even adding the word Centraal to the station's name.

[^2]: The story of both [Operation Market Garden](tab:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Market_Garden) as well as the [Battle of Arnhem](tab:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Arnhem) have been subjected to ample study and analysis. [The Pegasus Archive](tab:https://www.pegasusarchive.org/arnhem/frames.htm) provides meticulously compiled resources of testimony, equipment, and unit histories.

[^3]: Why this Kingdom has long insisted that post offices are an unneeded triviality will always be beyond my understanding.