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I wanted to learn more and my wife and I arranged a visit to Holland in May 1977 to coincide with an ex‐POW reunion in London. We received excellent cooperation from the Dutch officials and I learned precisely what happened to my crew. I already knew that my wireless operator and I were the only survivors. The Dutch explained that two crew members were found in June 1943 and buried in the military section of a civilian cemetery in Rotterdam. They reconfirmed that two others were found in 1967 and buried it Groesbeek. This accounted for all but one of my seven man crew‐ the rear gunner. He was still missing, quite possibly drowned in the North Sea. The Dutch were very hospitable and helpful, however it was a short visit and one day we hoped to return.

In 1994 I learned of plans that were taking shape to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Liberation of the Netherlands. A Veterans Pilgrimage Tour was being organized and sponsored by the Dutch Foundation National Committee "Thank You Canada". This was to be a historic occasion and even though it was primarily to recognize the courage and sacrifices of the ground forces, I was assured that other branches of the service who had served in the European theatre were welcome. I also had a personal reason for wishing to attend ‐four of my crew were buried in Holland. It would be a 12 day itinerary and the veterans and family members would be placed with host families throughout Holland. There would be free transportation by rail or bus anywhere in the country plus an elaborate program of special events in many communities. We paid for our airfare to Holland but not much else.

There were charter flights originating in several of the major cities in Canada‐in our case it was KLM out of Toronto where there were departures on four successive days. It was a beautiful flight across the Atlantic and as we approach Schiphol, we swung to the south, and in the distance I could pick out Rotterdam with the island of Rozenburg just beyond. It was 52 years earlier that I first saw the same piece of real estate. How time flies!

At Amsterdam's massive International Airport we begin to get the VIP treatment. There were banners everywhere welcoming Canadians. Red Cross hostesses greeted us and strapping young soldiers helping with our luggage. As a gesture of trust and goodwill there was no thought of going through customs‐our friendly Dutch guides whisked us through a side door of the terminal building to the waiting buses.

Many of the Army veterans were assigned to host families they already knew from the war years or post war. In my case I had no such contacts and when we settled in Nijmegen, learned that our host family resided in Groesbeek a few miles to the south. It was an appropriate choice on the part of the Dutch organizers since two of my crew are buried in the Canadian War Cemetery in this picturesque part of Eastern Holland and many of the special events would take place nearby.

Our host family lived on a small farm on the outskirts of Groesbeek about one mile from the German frontier. The parents and other relatives lived next door so there was a cluster of hospitable Dutch people making sure we were wind and dined. The older folks, about our age, had seen a lot of the war. In 1940 the German tank columns passed their very door. Their town was occupied for more than four years. In September 1944 Groesbeek was in the thick of the battle after the American airborne landings. Their farm buildings were totally destroyed and like many of the families, they had to run for their lives. They were forced to leave the area for many months since it was in the front lines. The Canadian Army occupied the Nijmegen sector in November 1944 in preparation for the assault into Germany which began in February 1945. In a word, the parents knew what war and the loss of freedom was all about and had instilled in their children a sense of gratitude and admiration for their liberators.

It is not possible to recount all that transpired in our twelve days in Holland. Many of you would follow the excellent TV coverage by Peter Manz bridge and Associates. There are some of the highlights from my perspective.

On May 5 we made an informal visit to the Canadian war cemetery at Groesbeek. It was on that day, that the school children throughout Holland were decorating the graves of Allied soldiers, sailors and airmen in the various cemetaries. There are three large Canadian Military Cemeteries in Holland‐ Bergen op Zoon, Holten and Groesbeek, and more than a hundred cemeteries in the towns and villages where Allied airmen are buried near where they crashed. Each grave is adopted by a Dutch child and they considered it an honour and a privilege to be chosen. At Groesbeek I knelt with children from a group home who were placing sprays of flowers on the graves of my crew members. I think it was meaningful to them to know they were meeting and speaking with someone who had flown with these young Canadians long ago. My pilot's headstone bears the Star of David with the inscription "Outstanding Scholar and Athlete." It was a Time for Remembrance.

On May 7 we travelled by bus to Apeldoorn where thousands of Canadian veterans, from all over Holland were assembling. It was a celebration to end all celebrations. Some of the vets road on WW II vehicles‐tanks, trucks and carriers, as they did in 1945. Most of the others marched‐if one can call it marching. For much of the route it was a case of meandering slowly through the massive crowds that lined the street. There were lots of wonderful bands including the Burlington Teen Band that had flown over with us. From the time of forming up until the end of the parade, more than five hours elapsed and in 80° heat. Nobody seemed to mind. It was the handshakes, the hugs, the applause that one remembers. People were hanging from lamp standards, balconies and billboards. Flowers by the armful were thrust upon the veterans and one little blonde beauty about four years of age was standing on the curb clutching a bouquet in each little fist. She was so small no one seemed to notice. As I approached I asked if I could have some of her flowers. She absolutely beamed as I patted her dead. That alone was worth the trip. I speak for the thousands of Canadian vets in the parade and family members in the special stands when I say that it was a Time for Remembrance. I hesitated to enter what was essentially an army parade ‐I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

On May 8, the anniversary of The VE Day, we attended the National Memorial Service at the Groesbeek Canadian War Cemetery where almost 2500 Canadians lie buried. Due to the huge influx of veterans and relatives, there had been a similar service two days before which Prime Minister Chretien attended. The cemetery is situated on a gentle plateau on a height of land. Across the valley are the forests of Germany were many Canadians lost their lives in the closing months of the war. Each war cemetery is marked by a large stone Cross of Sacrifice bearing on its shaft a crusader's sword of bronze. There is also a Stone of Remembrance, an altar like monument, bearing the words

Their Name Liveth Forever More

As at most of the ceremonies during the pilgrimage, the veterans were accompanied by the Canada Remembers contingent. The guard consisted of current members of the regiments that fought in the Netherlands. The flag party carried the Canadian, Provincial and Territorial flags plus the ensigns of the RCN and the RCAF. In addition there were two Red Ensigns, one representing the Army and the other the merchant marine. Music was provided by the Air Command Band from CFB Winnipeg and the pipe and drum band from the Our Royal Canadian Regiment, Gagetown NB.

Wreaths were laid by the Minister of Veterans Affairs and Princess Margaret followed by representatives of all the Allied nations that served in Europe. Princess Margaret who was born in Canada during the war years, was prominent at all the major events. The rendition of Amazing Grace by the lone piper was especially poignant and brought many a tear as we looked down on the sea of white crosses. It was indeed a Time for Remembrance.

We spent the day with Jerry Zwanenburg and his wife. He is the Dutchman who led the recovery team that had excavated the remains of our aircraft in 1967. He is familiar with every small cemetery in Holland and took us to two of the village cemeteries where 14 of my squadron mates are buried. They died the same week I was shot down when my squadron lost seven Halifaxes. These village cemeteries are beautifully groomed and these graves too are adopted by children just as they are in the larger communities.

Another day we travelled to Rozenburg where a Dutchman, who had lived on the island as a boy was our expert guide. As a construction engineer who designed parts of the New Waterway, he knew all about the changes that had taken place on Rozenburg in the intervening 50 years. He took us almost to the spot where our aircraft ploughed in. It is now an industrial area. Afterward we went to the coast where I had touched down. The farms are all gone now and there are no more Holstein cows. The coastline looks much the same and it made me realize how close I had come to landing in the North Sea.

There is one more historical item concerning Rozenburg that I learned about after the war. A barge load of gold bars was sunk off the island in 1940. It was part of the Dutch national treasure and was being hurriedly removed from the Netherlands to keep it out of the clutches of the Nasi war machine. The Germans recovered some of the gold but not all of it. The gold they didn't find remained in the shallow seabed throughout the war and was apparently close at hand when I landed in 1943. I often wonder how much gold there really was, not that it would have much mattered. I had my hands full finding my way around in the darkness, crossing small canals, all the time without footwear‐and besides it belonged to the Dutch.

In the afternoon we visited a large and beautifullyP‐landscaped civilian cemetery in central Rotterdam. The chapel is larger than some churches. There is a small military section where my other two crew members were buried in 1943. It too is a place of great beauty and in the peace and solitude, it was a fitting conclusion to my personal pilgrimage. I had revisited the places that mattered most. It was a Time for Remembrance.

There were farewell dinners in dozens towns and cities throughout Holland when the Dutch organizers said their official goodbyes. The Dutch were repeatedly saying "Thank You Canada"‐ in fact that was the theme throughout. The Canadian guests overwhelmed by the generosity and hospitality and more than one ivisitor said it is who we should be thanking the Dutch. And so it went.

At a final private dinner we entertained our host family and a few of their close friends. It was another happy occasion. At one point my wife asked why would you throw open your home to total strangers. The response was immediate. It is the least we can do ‐"You (meaning the Allies) gave us back our freedom, you don't value freedom until you have lost it."

On our flight home about the time we entered Canadian airspace, the choir accompanying the Burlington Teen Band, assembled in the centre section of our 747. I don't knew whether it was impromptu or planned. These talented young Canadians burst into song and delivered an unforgettable rendition of the Dutch National Anthem followed by O Canada. It made us feel proud to be Canadians and grateful to be so richly blessed. Living in a peaceful, prosperous land is a priceless legacy due in no small part to the sacrifices all Canadians who have served in time of war in the cause of peace and freedom. Let us remember them. As the late George Hees, a former Minister of Veterans Affairs, and himself a courageous Army veteran wrote:

"I hope all Canadians once again take time from their normal schedules on November 11, and recall the many sacrifices made on our behalf. Such observance is not a duty, but a very special privilege."

Thank you for inviting me, or as the Dutch say "Dunk u Wel."

V.M.White

November, 1997