LORAN SMITH: Margraten keeps memory of WWII servicemen alive

MARGRATEN, The Netherlands — This is about World War II. I can’t ignore the statistics that remind us how many gave their youthful lives to end Nazi tyranny. They never had an open discussion in a classroom or at a bar or at the family dinner table. They were never asked whether they should go or not. They all eagerly volunteered, imbued with faith and love of country and flag. That is why they were called the “Greatest Generation.” Nobody can get enough of their stories.

Each year, there is a fresh introduction or a new vignette causing one to feel fortunate to be able to connect with people who are in some way linked to those who made the ultimate sacrifice. We should never allow the world and successive generations to forget. For sure, the Dutch haven’t forgotten.

I have stopped at a lonely plot of ground near a foundation which supports a flag pole where the American flag waves in the breeze every day of the year. I am in the company of Miranda Prevaes, a knowledgeable Dutch lady who has brought me to the grave of James Lee Cole, one of the 8,301 Americans buried here.

Most of them lost their lives at the battle of Market Garden, which was a failure and a reminder that generals often scheme out plans that go awry. The British general Bernard Montgomery thought this battle would allow the Allies to gain a quick entry into Germany and make him a hero. It was, history reminds us, not a good decision.

This brings about an aside, which requires a disclaimer. I am not a historian, merely an enthusiast. However, when it comes to the history of WWII, any curious advocate of the war’s enduring history comes away more humbled than when he arrived. I am fascinated not just with the major headlines but with the obscure details as well.

This is the final resting place of the aforementioned Lee Cole, a paratrooper who lost his life at the Battle of Market Garden. He had survived the Allied landings at Normandy, but his luck ran out on him in The Netherlands. I am here to pay my respects on behalf of his daughter, Leigh Cole Wright, who lives in Athens and has never been to her father’s grave. I am her surrogate.

So many emotions crowd your consciousness when you visit an Allied cemetery in Europe. These were kids, some teenagers, who volunteered to fight across borders they, in so many cases, would not have known had it not been for war. James Lee Cole was one of those.

However, it is Dutch nationals like Luc Amkeutz who are ensuring, even three quarters of a century later, that those who are buried here will never be forgotten. Even if we don’t remember, the Dutch remember. Can you imagine that every single grave at Margraten has been adopted by a Dutch family? And get this — there is a waiting list. They bring flowers on the deceased’s birthday, the anniversary of D-Day and Christmas, among other occasions. Over coffee in Leiden, a suburb of Amsterdam, Luc and I talk about his commitment to the ongoing honoring of Americans who “gave us our freedom.” He has never met Leigh Wright or her husband, Bill, but they correspond via email. “I hope,” Luc said, “they will come here someday. I would be honored to take Leigh to her father’s grave at Margraten.”

You cannot know Luc and the thousands of Dutch families who honor members of the “Greatest Generation” with their acts of respect without it crossing your mind that perhaps the Dutch care more than we do! Except for the Revolutionary and the Civil wars, we have never experienced the ravages of war on our soil. Hitler, lest we forget, came very close to winning World War II. Even so, he not only made girls like Leigh Wright grow up without a father but brought unnecessary grief to millions.

This brings me to the discovery of a reference from a brochure that contained a note left at the grave of a German soldier at the German cemetery at La Cambe in Normandy. The soldier while on leave had obviously gotten his wife pregnant, then goes to Normandy and is killed in battle. Following is the poignant message his daughter would someday leave at her father’s grave: “On my third trip here, I cannot meet you. How many more daughters will never know their fathers because of war?”