Speech by State Secretary for Defence at commemoration Waal crossing

Speech | 20-09-2024

Good afternoon, Veterans, military personnel, distinguished guests,

80 years ago, a group of brave men took part in an operation to secure the bridge across the Waal. And 80 years sounds like a long time ago… But in a way, history is always present.

As we can see in Ukraine, securing a bridge is still a vital operation in warfighting.

And I think that Esmee and Quinten Kokhuis felt the presence of history today, when they crossed the bridge over the Waal river, in honour of their grandfather: Valentijn Kokhuis; a Dutchman who took part in the operation, and who was one of the first Dutch commandos.

I try to think what it must have been like for these soldiers of the 82nd Airborne Division. After hearing what their mission was, here in Nijmegen, some of them must have cursed… Because it seemed like an almost impossible task.

To cross the wide river in small canvas boats, in broad daylight, without life jackets, and not enough paddles, so that many had to use the butts of their rifles, or even their hands, to move their boat forward…

Knowing that the closer they got to the other side, the closer they would be to the enemy – and his bullets.

During the crossing, they were constantly under heavy fire. Bullets, artillery fire and mortar shells caused jets of water to leap up all around them, and soon every man was soaked, as if moving through a rainstorm.

The air was filled with bullets and smoke. Men prayed in hope and shouted in anger. Many found themselves turning to the man next to them, only to discover that he had been killed. In the first wave of the crossing, half of the men became casualties and half of the boats sank. Those who made it to the other side alive, had to run into a hail of fire and capture enemy positions.

So why did they do it?
Why did they risk their lives for people they had never met, whose language they did not speak, to secure a bridge in a city whose name they probably couldn’t pronounce: ‘Nijmegen.’
The answer is simple: for a soldier, no bridge is too far.
 

As a veteran, I know what that’s like: to be asked to carry out an almost impossible task. As soldiers in a special operations team in Afghanistan, we risked our lives for people we did not know, whose language we did not speak, in places we could hardly pronounce. Many times, we had to embark on a mission with too few comrades, not enough equipment, and at the wrong time.

And I know that many veterans have done the same:
complete a ‘mission impossible’. Because, if we don’t do it… Who will? If these men had not risked their lives at this place, 80 years ago, who else would have? No one.

History asked them to step forward, and they did not know whether it was to be their last step. For 49 of the men who made the crossing, it would indeed be their last step. They were young; between 19 and 32 years old. And when I look at the monument, something stands out to me. I look at the family names of some of these men: Katonik; Muszynski; Zentgraff; Papale.

And I realize that these men had European ancestors. Their fathers and grandfathers came from countries like Czechoslovakia, Poland, Germany, and Italy. There is even a fair chance that their ancestors travelled through the Netherlands to reach the port of Rotterdam,  
from where they started their journey across the Atlantic.

I had never realised this before, and it is yet another chapter in the history that we share, as Transatlantic allies. In 1944, the sons and grandsons of Europeans returned to Europe to liberate it. Some would die on their ancestors’ continent.

Others would live. One of them was James Megellas. His parents came from Greece. And the war in Europe had taken him from Texas to Nijmegen. The Waal crossing was the bloodiest battle he fought in. For years, Mr Megellas returned to Nijmegen, and joined our servicemen and women in crossing the Waal, again, and again, and again.

This time, with enough team mates, the right equipment and at the right time. No sounds of enemy bullets, shrieks of the wounded, and moans of the dying… But cheering people along the river; people whose grandparents he had freed, together with his fellow soldiers.

I met Mr Megellas in 2009. And I will never forget that moment. This man had fought in a war in my country. He fought in the Battle of the Bulge in Belgium; took part in the liberation of a concentration camp in Germany, where he had seen the horrors of the Holocaust with his own eyes. I was definitely shaking hands with history when I met this man.

In 2020, Mr Megellas died at the age of 103. He crossed his final bridge. I hope that he found his fellow veterans on the other side… those who had lived a long life like he did, as well as those who did not grow old.

Today, we stand here as free people, because of their actions of 80 years ago. And that is why history is always present.

We owe each and every one of them a great debt of gratitude.

Nowadays, our servicemen and women have to be ready to defend Europe again. As Mr Megellas once said to Dutch soldiers: ‘You’re the guys that follow us.’

But soldiers are not the only ones who have a duty to defend our freedom. We all have a role to play. Soldiers and citizens, adults and children. Be resilient. Be strong. Take care of others. Make history with your strength and kindness. And secure the bridge that leads from our present day to the days of the future yet to come: a future that is free. Thank you.