In the quiet fields where Canadian blood once soaked Dutch soil, a solemn promise echoes across generations: “We will remember them.”
This week marks 80 years since Canadian troops pushed Nazi forces from the Netherlands, bringing freedom to a nation that had endured five brutal years of occupation. As the spring sun warmed the immaculate rows of headstones at Groesbeek Canadian War Cemetery, thousands gathered to honor the sacrifice of more than 7,600 Canadians who never returned home.
“They came as strangers, died as heroes, and are remembered as friends,” said Dutch Prime Minister Mark Rutte during Thursday’s commemoration ceremony. “The Netherlands will never forget what Canada gave us – our freedom.”
Among those attending was 99-year-old veteran James Wilkins from Moncton, who landed with the North Shore Regiment in July 1944. “We were just doing our job,” he told me, his weathered hands tracing a comrade’s name on the memorial wall. “But seeing how the Dutch still care after all these years… that means everything.”
The Canadian Liberation Route cut through some of the war’s most difficult terrain. After landing in Normandy, our forces pushed through France and Belgium before tackling the flooded polders and determined German resistance in the Netherlands. The winter of 1944-45 was particularly harsh, with soldiers battling elements as fierce as enemy fire.
Veterans Affairs Minister Ginette Petitpas Taylor led the Canadian delegation, which included families of veterans and currently serving military personnel. “This anniversary belongs not just to history books but to living memory,” she said. “The bonds between our nations were forged in the darkest hours and have only strengthened with time.”
The commemorations hold special significance as the generation who witnessed liberation firsthand dwindles. According to Veterans Affairs Canada, fewer than 15,000 Second World War veterans remain alive in Canada today, their average age exceeding 97 years.
For the Dutch, Canadian sacrifice represents more than military victory. During what the Netherlands calls the “Hunger Winter” of 1944-45, thousands died of starvation under Nazi occupation. Canadian troops not only brought freedom but also food and medical supplies to a desperate population.
The gratitude manifests in countless ways. Each spring, the Netherlands sends thousands of tulip bulbs to Ottawa, a tradition that began when the Dutch royal family sent 100,000 bulbs in appreciation after the war. Dutch families have “adopted” Canadian graves, tending them for decades and passing the responsibility through generations.
Emma Vanderveen, whose grandparents experienced the liberation, has cared for three Canadian soldiers’ graves since she was twelve. “My grandmother told me about the chocolate bars Canadian soldiers gave her,” she explained. “It was her first taste of chocolate in years. These men gave their lives so we could have ours.”
The ceremony included the traditional two minutes of silence, the playing of both national anthems, and the recitation of the Act of Remembrance. Children from local schools placed flowers on graves while reading aloud the names and ages of the fallen – many barely older than today’s university students.
Canadian ambassador to the Netherlands Lisa Helfand noted the enduring diplomatic relationship that grew from shared sacrifice. “Our nations share more than history; we share values of democracy, human rights, and commitment to international order – principles for which these soldiers gave everything.”
The commemorations extend beyond cemeteries. In Wageningen, where Canadian General Charles Foulkes accepted the German surrender on May 5, 1945, the Liberation Festival attracts thousands annually. This year’s expanded celebrations include historical exhibitions, concerts, and educational programs explaining the significance of liberation to younger generations.
Recent polling by the Netherlands Institute for Public Opinion shows that 87% of Dutch citizens consider the Canadian contribution “extremely important” to their national identity, despite eight decades
