Arnhem.

It's a name out of myth and legend for paratroopers and WWII history buffs alike. In a single word one captures both the highest and lowest attributes of soldiering; irrepressible courage and fierce tenacity shackled by ego and rigidity, the folly of underestimating one's enemy, the rank idiocy of ignoring the facts in front of one's face because that just doesn't fit with The Plan. It's a name that evokes a Shakespearean sense of tragedy, of men and women embarked upon a path that, in retrospect, is doomed to failure, death and destruction; but despite the awful circumstances, these people display the most extraordinary character, often beyond what they thought themselves capable of, and thus write themselves into legend.

Driving down from Amsterdam in the rain along the A10 autoway, the chills I felt upon seeing the name Arnhem were definitely from more than just the cold rain off the North Sea that had blasted me when I'd stopped to buy a road map. Being both a former paratrooper and a WWII buff, I've wanted to see this place since I was a boy younger than Ben. (And I wish I could have shared it, and the stories of those men & women, with him.)

Amsterdam lies northwest of Arnhem, and Arnhem is the northernmost part of the battlefield, so it's the place one reaches first; kind of backwards, but I decided I'd roll with the geography and stop at what is regarded as the best museum devoted to the battle, the Airborne Musuem Hartenstein, located in Oosterbeek, a few miles west of Arnhem, and the place where the British paras dropped. (And thus problem #1 for the Brits - they dropped too far from the bridge.) The building was formerly the Hartenstein Hotel, but became the HQ of the British 1st Airborne, the center of their final perimeter, and eventually filled with wounded. Along the way, I drove through the town of Wolfheze, scene of much heavy fighting, with the initial British drop zones in fields to my right as I drove south.

Unfortunately, the museum was closed for renovations, with construction equipment everywhere. This was unfortunate because I'd planned to pick up more detailed local maps and hopefully a copy of "Major & Mrs. Holt's Battlefield Guide Operation Market-Garden", the definitive guidebook.



And you need a guidebook, because WWII battlefields aren't giant parks like our surviving Civil War and Revolutionary War battlefields, full of explanatory markers of dubious historic accuracy or Park Service employees (who generally, at the national level, are pretty good where history is concerned). The drop zones are farmer's fields. What was a strongpoint is someone's house, the aid station a church or cafe. The place where a Medal of Honor or Victoria Cross was won is a spot on a dike, a piece of lonely hedgerow-lined Norman road, a small declivity in a bit of Dutch woods; sometimes there's a marker, sometimes there isn't. Monuments are present, but they tend to be smaller, generally put up by the locals or by a group of veterans. These battles were fought in and around where people live and work, school their children and walk their dogs. Often those battles flattened the homes and businesses of their parents or grandparents. (More on that below.)

So I poked around outside and wound up chatting with a Dutch couple who were actually just hikers and didn't realize that this had been one of the major battle sites of WWII. Shifting my car to a spot where it wouldn't be side-swiped by a dump truck and muttering the old saw "It doesn't rain in the Army, it rains on the Army" and set off to visit a monument across the road.


This is one of the largest monuments I saw in Holland. It was built just after the war, designed by noted Dutch sculptor Jac Maris (who designed a number of monuments and sculptures both here and in Nijmegen). There are benches around the monument with the following inscribed upon them:

"September 1944 The British 1st Airborne Reconnaissance Squadron fought to its end here. Sit here and enjoy the peace for which they fought and died."

The major British cemetery lies nearby, so I headed there next.
















The British practice at the time was to bury their war dead not far from where they fell, so rather than one gigantic mega-cemetery like the American one at Coleville-sur-Mer in Normandy, one finds these smaller, more intimate places - if the word applies to the resting place of over 1700 men. Thus, this cemetery holds the remains of British paratroopers, glider pilots, air crew and the few non-Airborne troops who died north of the Rhine. It's also where the Polish paratroopers who crossed the Rhine in an attempt to reinforce the 1st Airborne and died alongside their allies are buried.

The British also allowed the next-of-kin, if any existed, to choose the inscription on the headstone. While one certainly finds more than a few quotes from Henry V and "a place forever England", there are often indescribably personal, searingly emotional passages as well. On the headstone of one paratrooper, a sergeant and father of four: "Goodnight, Daddy". I'm not ashamed to say that reduced me to tears, and it took me a few minutes to compose myself.

I wound up driving into Arnhem proper next. Of the nearly 12,000 men in the 1st Airborne and its attachments, only one battalion - the 2nd Paras under Lt. Colonel John Frost - along with some engineers and a mixed-bag of men from other units - made it to the area around the brdige itself. They seized the north end on the evening of the 17th, and held it against overwhelming German force for four days. In the process, the Germans absolutely flattened this part of Arnhem.


The bridge (as in Nijmegen, the original collapsed later in the war and a faithful replacement built) now named the John Frostbrug.


A marker near the bridge. The brown lines represent the outlines of the buildings and blocks as they were in September 1944; the gray shows the buildings today.

One medieval structure somehow survived the fighting - one of the old city gates.



This pillbox, and another across the roadway on the eastern side, prevented the paras from securing the bridge until after nightfall on the 17th, when they were captured with the aid of a flamethrower.

This memorial and roundabout lie at the north end of the 2nd Battalion's perimeter. The broken pillar in the center is debris from the ruined provincial Palais du Justice.

A fairly modern office building now stands on the site of LTC Frost's HQ next to the bridge; this plaque marks the location.

From the bell tower of this church, the Germans had a view of the entire British bridgehead. It lay just outside the British perimeter, which is why the buildings to the left survived, while the ones between the church and where I stood were obliterated.

A school stood here in 1944, across the road from Frost's headquarters. British engineers under Captain Eric Mackay occupied the building to guard the eastern side of the bridge approaches. On the 19th, a German soldier approached under a white flag and said his officer had sent him to discuss surrender. Captain Mackay cheekily replied that he didn't have the facilities to take all the Germans prisoner; the confused German left, and then began demolishing the school and nearby buildings with tanks and assault guns.

Nearby, Lieutenant John Hollington Grayburn won a (posthumus) Victoria Cross while leading a party to disable the fuses on explosives the Germans had placed under the bridge.

By the evening of the 20th, the British positions at the bridge had been overwhelmed. The remainder of the 1st Airborne hunkered down into an ever-shrinking perimeter in Oosterbeek. The Polish paratroopers, originally scheduled to drop on the 18th, finally were dropped south of the river and suffered heavy casualties. They twice attempted to cross the river to reinforce the 1st Airborne, but only a handful of men made it across. Elements of XXX corps finally reached the Rhine, but they too were unable to cross the river in any significant numbers. Finally, on the night of the 25th, somewhere around 2,000 paratroopers (accounts vary) were evacuated back across to the south bank of the Rhine. A few men, including virtually all of the medics and doctors, remained behind with the walking wounded holding the tattered remains of the perimeter.



"TO THE PEOPLE OF GELDERLAND: 50 years ago British & Polish soldiers fought here against overwhelming odds to open the way into Germany and bring the war to an early end. Instead we brought death and destruction, for which you have never blamed us.

This stone marks our admiration for your great courage, remembering especially the women who tended our wounded. In the long winter that followed your families risked death by hiding Allied soldiers and airmen, while members of the Resistance helped many to safety.

You took us then into your homes as fugitives and friends, we took you forever into our hearts. This strong bond will continue long after we are all gone".

The Germans forcibly evacuated the residents from the area, and cut off shipments of food into the country later in the fall. Most of Holland remained in German hands until the end of the war.

65 Years Ago: "Put us down in Holland, or put us down in Hell.."

In June of this year, I got a chance to realize a life-long dream...

On September 17th, 1944, thinking that one swift stroke would bring Germany to its knees and end WWII in Europe, the Allies launched the largest airborne assault in history. Paratroopers from three countries - two divisions of Americans (82nd and 101st Airborne), one division of British (1st Airborne) and Poles (1st Polish Parachute Brigade) parachuted or rode gliders into Holland along a path more than 70 miles long. Their mission: to seize a series of bridges across the many rivers and canals along the route, and secure a corridor for the tanks of the British XXX Corps. The prize: the bridge across the Rhine at Arnhem. This objective was assigned to the British 1st Airborne, with the Polish brigade reinforcing them. The 82nd was assigned the sector to the south, between the Maas (Meuse) river and the Waal river, a branch of the Rhine, and the bridges across these (and several canals as well). The 101st had the southernmost sector, closest to the British lines; they had to seize a number of canal bridges.

They almost won.

The Germans weren't entirely the scratch force of disorganized remnants and green replacements the Allies believed to be holding the sector. A tough force of German paratroopers held the line in the south. The German formations which just a few weeks before had retreated in disarray had somewhat reorganized. And two SS Panzer divisions, the 9th and 10th, were refitting at Arnhem.

They almost lost.

Work sent me to Amsterdam (lovely city, want to go back!) in June, and knowing I might not get a better chance, I took two days vacation to visit some of the northern part of the battlefield - something I'd wanted to do ever since I first read "A Bridge Too Far". With a fading battery in my camera, a couple of maps and a very scanty knowledge of Dutch, I set out to walk some of the ground my Airborne brothers before me had.

My home base for this trip was the Hotel Courage in Nijmegen, right on the river front of the Waal and mere steps from the Waal road bridge, prime objective of the 82nd Airborne. The hotel is the brown building to the left of the Velorama, the Dutch national cycling museum. These two buildings actually date from before the war. On the hill behind the hotel stands the ruins of the Valkhof, a medieval castle built by Charlemagne (and Roman army camp before that).
























These fields a few miles east of Nijmegen - and less then 3 miles from the German border - were the primary drop zone for the 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment, and the northern DZs for the 82nd Airborne. Our family friend, Bill Bladen - who also jumped into Normandy on D-Day - landed somewhere near here.

In Sicily and then in Normandy, the paratroopers had been badly scattered in night drops. Even though this jump would be in daylight, the commander of one battalion of the 508th, Lt. Col. Louis Mendez, told the pilots of the planes that would carry them here:

"Gentlemen," Mendez said coldly, "my officers know this map
of Holland and the drop zones by heart and we're ready to go.  When I
brought my battalion to the briefing prior to Normandy, I had the
finest combat-ready force of its size that will ever be known.  By the
time I gathered them together in Normandy, half were gone.  I charge
you: put us down in Holland or put us down in hell, but put us all down
together in one place, or I will hound you to your graves."

The photo on the left is looking south; Germany lies just down the road to the left. The right photo is looking north, towards the Waal; the ground here is essentially flat all the way to the river. Just west of here is a large wooded ridge called the Grosbeek Heights, also the scene of fierce close combat.

The Germans drove the Americans off the drop zones several times, and at one point were driven off with bayonets.


















There were some spectacular successes. The southern border of the 82nd's zone was the Maas River (Meuse in French), crossed by this bridge near the town of Grave. Lieutenant John S. Thompson, a company commander in the 504th, kept his stick in the plane until they were over the southern bank of the Maas. They jumped and landed not far from this spot. The 16 men then knocked out a pillbox (still standing!) just off the left of this picture, and another next to the road (right). The northern end of the bridge was secured about a half-hour later, and within an hour the 82nds' first objective was firmly in American hands. The bridge is now named after Lieutenant Thompson.

The pictures above show the center of the small town of Beek, between the 82nd's main drop zone and the Waal Bridge at Nijmegen, at the bottom of the northern end of the Grosbeek Heights. It was a major blocking position, keeping the Germans at bay as they attack ed westward along the road towards Nijmegen. Our friend Bill Bladen was wounded during the fighting here in Beek; he was eventually evacuated to England. The photo on the left is one of the few surviving buildings from before the war in town; the right shows a memorial built by the residents to the paratroopers of the 508th.

Here is what both the Germans and Americans were fighting for: the Waal bridge at Nijmegen.

The original Waal bridge collapsed not long after the battle; this replacement was built on the same design on the same location. This shot was taken just a few hundred yards west, or downriver, from the bridg e - from the same spot as the picture above. The 82nd was supposed to seize it on the first day, and it was lightly guarded as the paratroopers hit the drop zone a few miles to the east. But they had dropped too far, and the orders and communications were confused ; by the time the first pa trols reached the bridge approaches, over 200 German troops had deployed to defend the southern end. The bridge was also wired for demolition, and the detonator well-secured on the northern side. It would take four days, British tanks and a valiant daylight river crossing before they would secure their objective.





Looking west, or down-river, to the railroad bridge, also rebuilt after the battle.










On the left below, a bit of the Nijmegen market square. You can tell this area escaped much if not all of the fighting by virtue of the fact that the buildings obviou sly pre-date the war. (The oldest parts of the church date back to 1297, and were part of a replacement for a still-older church on the site. The picture on the right is from about a block away, on the other side of the square, looking roughly south. This entire area - and much of the city for blocks in each direction - were all but flattened during the battle.





















Unable to break through the German defenses in town, and knowing the British were in dire straits a few miles north in Arnhem, General James "Slim Jim" Gavin came up with a bold, if dangerous plan. Since the best way to take a bridge is from both sides at once, he would have force a river crossing downriver, west of the bridge, using boats to be supplied by the British. He tapped a battalion of the 504th Parachute Infantry for this led by Major Julian Cook (played by Robert Redford in the movie "A Bridge Too Far"). They would attack at dawn.

But the boats were delayed, then de layed m ore due G erman counter-attacks and traffic jams on the narrow two-lane road leading to Nijmegen.

Finally, at 3 PM, the Americans pushed off from the southern bank in 28 tiny canvas-and-rubber collapsible assault boats from just to the left of the power plant shown here. There weren't enough paddles to go around, so some of the men used their rifle butts as paddles. The Germans, dug into the dike from which I took this picture and positioned on the railway br idge to the east, took them under intense mortar and machine gun fire. At the time of the battle, the river came up to approximately the line of small trees in the middle distance shown here; under murderous fire, the Americans landed and charged across the muddy ground to the German positions on the dike. Many of the Germans - for the most part older men and young boys - tried to surrender, but the Americans, enraged beyond re ason after their horrific crossing, gave no quarter. The courageous engineers turned their boats around and paddled their ungainly craft around for another wave; they would make the crossing a total of six times that day, September 20th, 1944.

The men of the 504th moved eastward along the dike, securing first the railway bridge and then the north end of the Waal road bridge. The tanks of the Gr enadier Guards rumbled forward. The Germans attempted to blow the bridge, but the wires had been cut by a young member of the Dutch Resistance, Jan van Hoof, and the detonators removed by British soldiers. The Germans fell back. Jan van Hoof was killed by German fire on September 19th, while acting as a guide for Allied forces.

Memorial commemorating the river crossing; the tablet on the ground bears the names of the members of the regiment killed in action during the fight. About 50 yards from this spot on the night of the 21st, Private John Towle won the Medal of Honor for his role repelling a German counter-attack:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty on 21 September 1944, near Oosterhout, Holland. The rifle company in which Pvt. Towle served as rocket launcher gunner was occupying a defensive position in the west sector of the recently established Nijmegen bridgehead when a strong enemy force of approximately 100 infantry supported by 2 tanks and a half-track formed for a counterattack. With full knowledge of the disastrous consequences resulting not only to his company but to the entire bridgehead by an enemy breakthrough, Pvt. Towle immediately and without orders left his foxhole and moved 200 yards in the face of intense small-arms fire to a position on an exposed dike roadbed. From this precarious position Pvt. Towle fired his rocket launcher at and hit both tanks to his immediate front. Armored skirting on both tanks prevented penetration by the projectiles, but both vehicles withdrew slightly damaged. Still under intense fire and fully exposed to the enemy, Pvt. Towle then engaged a nearby house which 9 Germans had entered and were using as a strongpoint and with 1 round killed all 9. Hurriedly replenishing his supply of ammunition, Pvt. Towle, motivated only by his high conception of duty which called for the destruction of the enemy at any cost, then rushed approximately 125 yards through grazing enemy fire to an exposed position from which he could engage the enemy half-track with his rocket launcher. While in a kneeling position preparatory to firing on the enemy vehicle, Pvt. Towle was mortally wounded by a mortar shell. By his heroic tenacity, at the price of his life, Pvt. Towle saved the lives of many of his comrades and was directly instrumental in breaking up the enemy counterattack.

Arhem lay just a few miles up the road - at the time, a single, two-lane road atop a dike, with soft polder (reclaimed land) on either side...

And on the homefront...

I decided to 'hijack' the blog for a little note about our interesting day yesterday...

The kids and I have been 'on our own' for about two weeks now. It's amazing to me that I've stayed here in Maryland both weekends - not many years ago I dreaded being home alone for a weekend and now the kids are such good company (and a huge help around the house) with such active schedules that I couldn't manage to go 'home' to Pennsylvania even if I were scared... But yesterday was a particularly busy, particularly interesting day. It was certainly one I would never have imagined experiencing.

The day started as usual, leaving the house by 6:30 am to beat the DC traffic and get to work. Summer is coming to the DC area and my commute wasn't too bad... though the marshes near Ft. Meade/NSA (which I pass through every day on my trip) have gotten really kind of gross. Lots of standing water and a green scum over it... It should be no surprise that its so humid the sheets of paper on my desk curl up at the corners overnight - the DC area really is reclaimed swamp and marshland... Meetings and data discussions made for a typical morning. I had to leave work by 11, though, to get home for the start of the interesting part of the day...

About four weeks ago, we were approached Alexa's advocate (a great person who we hire to help work with the school team on Alexa's behalf during the process of developing her special education IEP) with a great opportunity. A person who provides autism services saw Alexa deliver a speech and mentioned to Linda, the advocate, how articulate Alexa was. Linda told Steve (the service provider) about Alexa's involvement with the theatre troupe, and that many of her friends wore autism awareness buttons ("I have a friend with Autism") during April. One thing led to another and Steve decided he wanted to include Alexa in a DVD series documenting the real stories of persons with autism, which will be used to train service providers. Alexa agreed that it sounded like a good thing to do and the ball was in motion.

Yesterday was 'filming day' - the crew from Take One productions came to Old Mill High to film a rehearsal (PPTC is doing one more performance of Thoroughly Modern Millie on June 24) and to interview Alexa, some of her friends, the school psychologist, and me. I don't know what I was imagining, but I think I didn't really get the size of the project. There were at least 6 people manning the camera, dealing with the lights (so many lights!) and generally overseeing the project.

It was fascinating to watch the making of a documentary. First, they took lots and lots and lots of shots - plenty of 'B roll' to fill in around the interviews. They were meticulous about making sure that the background in the shots was interesting - costume racks, the PPTC logo, etc. They were also very careful to make sure that they had footage they could use of the kids looking at each other in certain ways or Alexa and I repeating certain lines when they were afraid background noise might have interfered.

The kids were great - they dealt with hot lights and cords and cameras filming them as if they weren't there. Three kids who know Alexa pretty well - Kensey who has been in school with Alexa since first grade, and Bobby and Kaitlyn who have been great theater pals - were interviewed about their impressions of Autism and Alexa. We intentionally stayed back (as Alexa says, that would have been totally awkward to have listened in), but the producer said they were really really great. It took a LONG time (at least 30 minutes) to shoot the interview, and the whole time a group of girls were dancing in the background - we felt sooo bad for them doing the same thing over and over.

Alexa and I were interviewed together. It was fun to do it together and interesting to think back on how far we've come. I actually made the producer cry (which then made me cry) when talking about the experience of getting her diagnosed and how my friend told me, as I called her crying on my way back from the psychologist's office, "remember, she's the same person she was 2 hours ago." Looking back, that diagnosis has unlocked so much potential because we've gotten appropriate supports and treatment, but at the time it seemed so scary.

After 5 hours of taping, it was time for our next adventure - a trip to the Folger Shakespeare Library. We joined the Folger as Members after going to see "A Winter's Tale" in March. Alexa is a Shakespeare junkie, and we all love a good play. And, Caryn, the girlfriend of John's brother Tim, works there - we all want Caryn to be our sister/aunt-in-law. So as members, we got an invite to "Member Weekend" and the Friday night event, "The Curatorial Eye" looked interesting - some of the curators' favorite items and a chance to chat with them. I thought it would be perfect for Alexa as she would like to become a librarian/archivist some day (to pay the bills before she sells her first bestseller). After I'd signed up to go, I realized that it was the exhibit opening, and Caryn is the Exhibition Manager at the Folger, so it was 'her' event! How cool!

So, we headed to the Metro (traffic is so much better going against the flow - 30 minutes to the Metro - woot!) and then into the District. The Folger is on Captiol Hill, so we got off the Metro right outside the Capitol and saw a bunch of young staffers and interns heading the other way. The Capitol South metro station was plastered - literally the entire entrance area - with banners promoting limits on antibiotics for animals. It was interesting because it was clearly aimed at congressional staffers, and I'm guessing it was timed to coincide with a documentary I heard about on NPR that morning, dealing with big Agri-business. It was awesome walking past the Capitol and the Supreme Court on our way to the Folger - so quiet on a summer Friday evening.

The event itself was really wonderful. They have some beautiful items on exhibit - a notebook with lovely Shakespeare-related illustrations by a Romanian schoolgirl, a book of magic, gorgeous illustrated books, various copies of Shakespeare inscribed as gifts from famous people or to famous people. Ben was enthralled with a nifty setup that allows you to see a folio in a case and then use a computer-based interface to 'flip' through scanned pages of it. Alexa got to talk to a couple of the staff members (one who is the Reference Librarian), including the curator who did her favorite case, amazing illustrations including one that included tin embossing. Caryn's parents and grandmother were there and so it was also great to get to visit with them.

Because John is out of town, we had to convince Ben to come with us. And the 'carrot' that did the trick was the promise that not only would he see Uncle Tim but that we would also finish up the day with a 'floodlit' tour of the monuments. I'm ashamed to say that even though they've lived here their entire lives, my kids have not gone to visit the monuments per se. They've been to the Smithsonian too many times to count, been on the Mall for events, but never specifically visited the monuments. So last night I figured it wouldn't be too crowded and we could skate in for a quick visit.

We took a cab from the Folger to the Lincoln Memorial - it was muggy and we were tired, so it seemed the easier thing to do. We tipped the cabbie quite nicely (now that the 'zoning' system is gone, a 2 mile trip is hardly worth it for them), and headed out of the cab to the monuments. There were tons of tour busses and people milling around. We got there at the perfect time - dusk. Looking down over the reflecting pool to the Washington Monument and the Capitol was gorgeous. The sun was setting behind the Lincoln and the lights were already on making it look so majestic. We hopped over to the Korean memorial for a quick visit - its a really neat complement to the Vietnam memorial - a stark black wall with faces of soldiers etched on it and statues of soldiers in front of it. The number of tour groups there, including student groups, was really surprising. Then we went to the Lincoln, stopping at the "I Have a Dream" mark to look out and think about how amazing it must have been to look out on that day. When we got to the top, Ben was trying to use what little was left of his battery to get the inscription over Lincoln's head - alas, to no avail.

We were exausted and so we skipped the other parts of my planned excursion (FDR and Jefferson), jumped in a cab, and headed back to the Capitol South Metro station (again overtipping, and going back that far just to make it half worth the cabbie's while - he was a great guy and probably wouldn't have minded anyway, but ...)

We were soooo happy to make it home (by 10:00, no less) and get showers (I forgot to mention, in our journeys, one of the Capitol Hill pigeons hit me). Exhausting, but a really cool day. The only way it could have been better would have been to have John with us... 10 years ago, I'd have never guessed I could do all that on my own, but its funny what one mom and two amazing kids can do!

Some Amsterdam Impressions

Took a lot of pictures today but a little too tired, sore and sunburned to do more than pull them off the camera. So I thought instead I'd ramble on a bit about my impressions of Amsterdam.

You only really need three colors to describe Amsterdam: brown, green and gray - unless the sun is out, like it was today. Virtually all the buildings in much of the city are brick or stone, and usually brown brick at that. Oh, there's all sorts of trims and accents, but they tend to be in shades of cream, beige or occasionally black - and when you see a real exception, such as some old 17-century warehouses with doors painted purple, it really stands out. Even most of the streets are brick-paved - brown bricks, naturally.

But it's every shade of brown imaginable, at least when one considers the city as a whole. The section I'm staying & working in - Oid Zuid, or Old South - was originally a neighborhood created for the well-to do merchants and traders. It actually contains a few stand-alone houses - clustered closely together, natch - and a few of the street names (like the one my hotel is on) contain "-plantsofen", or "-plantation". But virtually all the buildings in a given swath of several blocks (barring the occasional rehabilitated site) will be the same uniform scheme. Somehow it doesn't have the same fingernails-on-chalkboard aesthetic sense that cookie-cutter suburban communities have back home; I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's due to my sensibilities and expectations; one expects to see large numbers of generally similar buildings close together in the city, but I grew up in neighborhoods built during the prime post-WWII suburban expansion years, and the residents had time to personalize them considerably by the time I came along.

Green finds its way into many places: the canals, the strips of parkland, the green trees that grace the streets of Old South and a few other places, the green-painted metal rails on many of the bridges. The city isn't as green as tiny Luxembourg, set admidst its lush river valleys. But it certainly feels more green than any American city of comprable size (750K people) I've visited recently, with the exception of Boston, which being a colonial city still has a very European feel. It feels more green than Paris. I suspect if I weren't staying in Oid Zuid in a hotel next to a long strip-park I might feel differently, since starting and ending my day walking beneath the trees must make some sort of impression. (But it felt pretty green on the bus from the airport, too.)

(And now that I think of it, the color that I'd used to describe Paris is white. Not the people certainly, but so many buildings built during the Hauptmann era, the gypsum soil - it almost feels oppressive in some parts of the city.)

Gray pops up from time to time, usually in concrete or granite trim, the supports of a bridge, the usually gray sky.

Bicycles are everywhere, and people use them for everything. Many families don't seem to have a car, they have a family bike on which mom or dad carts the children - in specialized baby seats, in wooden boxes affixed to the handlebars, riding side-saddle on the little flat cargo space behind the seat. I've seen people texting, talking on the phone, carrying their groceries, you name it! Most seem to have only a few speeds and are built very sturdily - but then these are made for commuting in a city where the only real elevation changes one encounters will be canal bridges, or the occasional ramp from the street onto a portion of sidewalk devoted to the bike path. And when they're not riding the, Amsterdamers are locking their bikes to whatever is handy. There's countless bike racks but I've also seen them secured to fences, trees and signposts. Cant think of any locked to a bench, though - those must be off-limits.

Bikes have right-of way, even over pedestrians and cars except for a few circumstances. There are dedicated bike lanes all over the place, and it definitely seems possible one could get just about anywhere in the city by bike. (If my knees were up to pedalling my obese butt around, I'd have used one today.)

Like any large city it's both ethnically and economically diverse. At the Albert Cuypstraat market this morning I saw quite a mix of people, and I don't mean just the generally Caucasian tourists (incredibly easy to spot for the most part, not like I'm not by my size or the first time I open my mouth). Holland's history as a trading nation with possessions in East Asia means there's quite a few people from that part of the world here, as well as blacks. More than a few Moslem women who's ultimate ethnicity I couldn't place as well.

Speaking of the market: besides the usual tourist kitsch one expects in these, there were a large number of stands that obviously cater to the locals. There were six or seven cheese shops, several seafood stalls, meats, numerous produce vendors - sandwhiched between cheesy t-shirts and cheap plastic toys. A number of second-hand clothing stands with things that actually looked decent and substantial.

Much later in the day I found myself needing to cut through part of the infamous "Red Light District". It really only covers a few blocks, though there are other smaller zones throughout the city I'm told. I didn't see anything racier than a few stores selling erotic items as I cut through on my way to Nieumarkt.

What I did encounter there, but also in the Jordaan neighborhood and in a few other places, was the unmistakable smell of pot. In Amsterdam, a "coffeeshop" is a place where one can buy and consume the legal soft drugs, and they're not solely confined to the red light district. Since I also caught whiffs while passing through some purely residential areas (when I'm traveling solo, especially in a generally safe city like Amsterdam, I'll pop off the main drags if my maps and bearings are good enough - wouldn't try this in Hong Kong) I guess it's legal to smoke at home too, which a few people were doing out on their stoops.

I love being in a city with real, working mass transit. Virtually everyone who's not on a bike uses the electric trams at some point. I'm told the tram network connects pretty seamlessly to the train system as well; since the major train stations are also served by several tram lines each it seems reasonable. Haven't had to step onto the busses yet.

The only people I've met who don't speak excellent English (albeit accented sometimes) are foreign visitors. I took a canal boat tour this afternoon and sat with a French couple, with whom I was able to communicate just a bit. (Quite a few "Je nes comprenz pas" on my part.) However, English is definitely the default second tongue of everyone I've encountered who has one - Germans, Lativians, Japanese that I've recognized (and some probable Russians, but I'm not sure - definitely Slavic-sounding.)

Sidebar #1 - the Latvians were three women who got off at my tram stop after my expedition who asked for help with directions. They had a copy of the really excellent map provided by the tourist bureau (I have one also) and after a few moments I was able to get them sorted out and sketched out how to get to their destination from the intersection we were at. They asked where I was from and were surprised that I was an American - they said "Your English is like the King's English!" I wished them bon voyage, which may have confused them further. :)

Sidebar #2 - When talking with the French couple, I couldn't find ways to say things in French but could remember how to do so in German. Frau Reuter and Frau Middlebrook would be proud that their lessons have stuck after 30 years!

Sidebar #3 - The Dutch speak English so well that I'm not even packing my Dutch phrasebook anymore. It may be different with the older people, and perhaps when I'm in Nijmegen & Arnhem next week, but all the Dutch I've encountered speak such good English that I'm embarrassed to yank out more than "Dag!" or "Gut avend".

And it's after 11 PM, so time to start winding down. Today was walking and shopping (Saturday and Thursdays are the days to shop in Europe); if I hold up, tomorrow is museum day.

Some Amsterdam Pictures

Not much time to write as we've (my colleague George & I) been working kind of late, but a few pictures from our walks to & from dinner Tuesday & tonight.


Even some new buildings built long after the need for them have the beam & hook assemblies projecting from the top floor.


Neighborhood church a few blocks from our hotel, south of Vondelpark.

The canal bridge on which our tram stop sits. Bicycles are everywhere in Amsterdam.


Busy square closer to the center of town, near where we ate dinner tonight after I purchased an expensive (100 Euros) but much-needed jacket.

Sweets, Sights & Sunshine - and then to Amsterdam

I'd set my alarm for 7:30 Saturday morning. It went off, I rolled over to hit snooze and contemplate my original intent to hop a train to Vianden, a hillside town with a big castle, a house Victor Hugo had lived in, and a few other sights. And then my joints voted.

"Remember that weight you said you were going to lose before this trip? Remember how you didn't lose it? Well, we do. Plus, it's raining cats & dogs out there." So I switched the alarm clock off, slept in until almost 11 (!) and then switched to Plan B, which was to see the two museums in the Old Town.

But after wandering down to the ATM at the post office I heard something familiar. Heading into Place d'Armes yet again, I discovered another band, this one playing - of all things - Carpenters songs, followed by a "Jesus Christ Superstar" medley. Ah, well, so it was raining - time to grab one of the umbrella-covered tables of Cafe Francais and fortify myself against the cold & wet:

After a pleasant if slightly damp half-hour or so I made my way over to the Museum of History & Art. (No photos permitted.) This is a remarkable facility that extends five levels below the entry level and five above - 10 floors in total! The overall floor space is nothing like the Louvre or something like the Smithsonian Air & Space museum, but it's still an excellent museum. Starting from the bottom through the first floor, one works through Luxembourg from Paleolithic times, through the Bronze & Iron Ages, up through the Gallo-Roman period. More recent history gets comparatively short shrift - perhaps because the region was so often a possession of some other power - but in addition to a remarkable trove of artifacts there is a massive bronze cast of the town's massive fortifications as they stood in 1867, when Luxembourg became neutral and the process of razing the fortifications began. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I could usually puzzle out the French placards at each exhibit at least well enough to understand the gist of the display. It probably helps that these are likely written to be read by kids Ben's age. ;)

The upper floors are devoted to art from a variety of periods. There's a little bit of everything in there, from medieval through Renaissance through the 19th century and Impressionism and on to modern pieces. There's supposed to be a sketch of Schengen Castle by Victor Hugo somewhere in the collection but I seem to have missed it.

Back to the main level; a few purchases in the Boutique and then a cup of excellent vegetable soup with croutons and a few slices of dark bread, and then downhill and a few blocks away to the Museum of the Hitory of the City of Luxembourg.

This was another multi-level museum. There are three floors below the level of the main entryway, with the lowest actually having a street exit on the back side of the building - it's built into the eastern face of the city, above where the ramparts lay. It's actually three buildings now joined together, with the oldest parts of the structure dating to medieval times; the complex was an abbey at one point, and parts later served as merchant's homes. This musuem is very modern and makes use of a lot of multimedia features. For example, there are a number of wooden macquettes on the various floors that show the development of the town and it's fortifications throughout history, from 963 onwards. Next to each macquette is a touchscreen video terminal displaying the overall view of the macquette. You can zoom in to various sections, and key structures are in red with a little movie projector icon next to them. Touch the icon and you get to see a short video that starts with early photographs of the scene (if there are any) and follows with film and photos of the structure through the years, ending with pictures or video of it today.

Various sections of the museum cover politics, municipal facilities like water & sanitation, life under the Nazis (really disconcerting to see soldiers goose-stepping through Place d'Armes and recognizing the buildings, and seeing a Nazi general speaking from the bandstand), local heroes, etc.

On the main level and upper levels is temporary exhibit space. The current temporary exhibit is one Michelle would have found fascinating and appealing - it's about faith, belief and non-belief. You're issued a neck lanyard with a plastic card containing an embedded USB memory stick, which at various points you insert into terminals and answer questions about your faith (or lack thereof) and attitudes about religious belief and faith. Along the way, you enter small booths to listen to audio or watch video of a selection of people (all living in Europe - the audio & video were produced in Switzerland, I think) with varied religious beliefs - an elderly Catholic, a Muslim woman in her 30s, a young evangelical Christian, a young Jewish girl, etc. At the end the system tallies up your answers against a six-axis grid and tells you where it thinks you fall on the scale. You can optionally enter a bit of demographic data (age, gender, level of education) and the system is tallying all the visitors.

(I came up as "Irreligious, with a tendency towards 'culturally religious'" - no great surprise.)

But wonder of wonders, when I left the museum, the sun was starting to break through the clouds! I wandered back into the main part of town, hungry for something but not sure what. I ended up parked at another cafe/restaurant having something to make Michelle & Alexa jealous:

Profiteroles and a Coca-Light! Yes, the glass really is made in that tilted shape!

After enjoying my snack and some jazz (yet another band had taken the stage) I wandered down towards Place de la Constitution again to get some pictures of the Petrusse valley again in the sunlight:


I also strolled over to and across the Pont Adpolphe, getting a grand view of Luxembourg's Notre Dame, and a close-up view of the building with the intriguing clock-tower on the south side of the valley.

I went back to the hotel, rested for a few hours, and then met my colleagues from work for dinner that lasted until 11 PM. Had a lovely conversation with Sue from the Facilities team in London who had driven in the day before with her partner, John. Turns out they were heading today to their cottage in Normandy, just outside of Honfleur. I told them that I'm insanely jealous that they get to go there every three weeks! Turns out they bought about 6 years ago, when prices were still reasonable.

By the way, the Brits seem pretty sure Gordon Brown is going down, possibly by the end of the week. He's got Bush-level approval ratings it seems.

Monday was spent in the office making sure the local associates got settled and everything was working satisfactorily (it was, and they were very happy) and then packing up for today's trip to Amsterdam. Dinner at a Thai place recommened both by Lonely Planet and George from the London office, who's here with me now in Amsterdam, then off to bed.

Today was automobiles and planes. Luxembourg to Amsterdam is a relatively short flight, a bit over an hour, in yet another city-hopper. Schipol Airport here is very large (Europe's 4th busiest) but extremely well laid-out. It's also got a full-blown supermarket in the shopping concourse! Caught the shuttle bus to the hotel and checked e-mail, napped and read a bit while waiting for George to arrive from London so we could meet up for dinner.

Amsterdam and this entire part of the Netherlands is flat. Like, not even Great Plains flat. I'm talking billiard table flat here. It's also got to be some of the most well-watered ground I've ever seen; remnants of canals and ponds were everywhere in view as we flew in. (Being largely reclaimed land, this makes intellectual sense, but it's another thing to actually see it.) The section of the city we're in is supposed to be relatively genteel; it's largely made up of bronwstone and brick buildings built in the classic narrow and tall fashion, complete with the ancient hoisting hooks & beams protruding from the front of many. (Pictures forthcoming.)

We strolled up north in the direction of Vondelpark and eventually settled on what seemed to be a neighborhood cafe (read pub - cafes here are pubs as opposed to the French mode) and enjoyed a leisurely dinner of lasagna (George) and a hamburger (me) with wonderful small salads and a few pints of Grolsch. Fortunately for us the rain has held off and we had sun for both directions of the trip.

Most Amsterdamers all seem to speak excellent English, by the way, often with distinct American accents - which actually sound funny to my ears after hearing so many French and British accents recently.

Back at the hotel we picked up tram tickets (we're over a half-mile from the office and tomorrow we both have to lug toolkits & such) and made arrangements to meet up at 8:30 to head in.

Further adventures to come..

Chilly & Rainy, with a chance of "Whoa!"

While we've gotten everything done in the office, things took longer than expected (for reasons outside my control!) and we wound up working this morning to polish a few things off. This torpedoed my original plan to grab a train up to Vianden in the Ardennes today, but I'll try again tomorrow. Meanwhile, I did get to spend the afternoon knocking around the Old Town (the "Haute Ville") of Luxembourg City. (If the weather doesn't get too nasty I'll try to see Vianden tomorrow.)

While people have lived in this area a long time, the city got it's start when Siegfried, Count of the Ardennes, built a fortress on the Bock, a promontory overlooking the Alzette river in 963. The Old Town formed on the upland behind the fortress, which was expanded, improved and strengthend over the centuries. It's said to have been the strongest fortress in Europe after Gibraltar at it's peak in the early 19th century. Eventually, Luxembourg was declared neutral and most of the fortifications were torn down. What's left is still pretty impressive!

The core of the Old Town is pedestrianized - no cars in the core of the city. Saturday is the big shopping and market day in Europe, and despite the lousy weather (cold and rainy, and me without a coat!) people were out in force.



My colleague Sead (from the London office) and I split up - he to pursue some presents for his "princess" (his five-year-old little girl) and I for some lunch and wandering. I wound up eating at a pizzaria off the Place d'Armes, the central square of the Old Town. The three-cheese pizza was tres fantastique! But the real delight of the meal was the family next to me which included two adorable little girls. The youngest appeared to be about 4 or 5, and when her mushroom and ham pizza arrived, she began pumping her arms in the air and cheering "Champignon! Champignon!" ("Mushrooms! Mushrooms!") I've never seen a child so excited about any vegetable, much less mushrooms!

Fortified by my leisurely pizza and Coca-Lite (and let me tell you, I really appreciate the Continental European dining attitude - "take your time, enjoy the meal") I decided to set off on a shopping expedition of my own, and decided to do at least a bit of site-seeing. I wandered down south from Place d'Armes and and down a side street found a toy store that looked promising. Going inside, it turned out to have three levels, and part of the second level was devoted to baby things:

The third floor actually had one of the best scale model selections I've seen in a long, long time. I wound up making a few purchases here, and then continued south to Place de la Constitution, which has splendid views overlooking the Petrusse valley (the Petrusse joins the Alzette east of town) and across to other parts of the city.

This clock tower belongs to either the Bank Museum, or the State Savings Bank

Looking down from the Place d' la Constitution at the park in the valley below

The Pont Adolphe, one of the many impressive bridges spanning the valleys

Looking east from Place de la Constitution along the valley; the Viaduct is the bridge here.

Following the street (Boulevard de la FD Roosevelt!), one follows the remnants of the old city ramparts.

Ramparts and Blvd. de la FD Roosevelt

I passed behind the Cathederal Notre-Dame, which while not as large as it's namesake in Paris, is still pretty impressive.

The boulevard slides southeast, following the edge of the heights and the old city walls, and winds up at the Plateau du St. Esprit. This is where the city and national court buildings are, with a large courtyard between the buildings of the complex. It's another promontory jutting southeast out of the highlands, and has some amazing views of the two river valleys. Unfortunately, what looked like some of the best vantage points are currently blocked by contruction work, but I did my best to capture things!

The Cite Judiciare complex

View northeast; the modern buildings in the distance are in the Kirchberg Plateau district.

View north from Plataeu du St. Esprit - note the old city wall beneath the buildings.

From there I followed Rue du St. Esprit and eventually the "Chemin de la Corniche", a pedestrian path the follows the eastern walls and got great views of the valley, the Grund district that lies in the loop of the Alzette, and the southern side of the Bock.

The Bock promontory, and the Church of St. John in the Grund

Truly ancient stairway leading from Rue du St. Esprit to the Chemin de la Corniche

Looking southeast from along the Chemin de la Corniche

The Chemin, the Bock, the valley and Church of St. John; if you blow up the image you'll see the old Wenceslaus Wall running out from the Bock across the river to the Grund.

East and down into the Grund. The complex attached to the church is the Abbey Neumunster, which now houses an art gallery, brasserie and outdoor performing space.

View south from the Chemin de la Corniche - fortress on the right, Grund to the left.

There's still a bit left of the old fortifications on the Bock but not much. What's left gives you just an impression of just how strong the original medieval fortress must have been. The Bock is also honeycombed with casemates - tunnels dug primarily by the Spanish in the 18th century when they ruled this part of Europe. My knees definitely let me know they weren't up to exploring the casemates after bopping around the top of the Bock for a little while.

West edge of the Bock

Bridge connecting the Bock to the Haute Ville (Old Town)

Inside the Bock; folks with better knees than mine heading down into the Casemates

Wonder what's down there? Roll for initiative.

Waterfall on the Alzette, and a bit of the Wenceslaus Wall connecting the Bock to the Grund
Old fortifications on the Rahm Plateau across the river, uphill from the Grund

Cheesy tourist transport everywhere! Kirchberg Plateau complex in the distance.

View north along the Alzette valley from the Bock. The bridge is the Pont du Grand-duchess Charlotte, or the "Pont Rouge" (Red Bridge).

Feeling a bit tired and sore (I spent a lot of Friday wrestling equipment in and out of computer racks and moving boxes) I passed up hitting any of the museums for the day. But I did get a look at part of the Grand Ducal Palace (it's not open to visitors this time of year).

Entrance to the Grand Ducal Palace

After a quick stop in the city tourist office to pick up a map (now that I don't need it!) and a Luxembourg card (good for free admission to sites all over the country, and free use of the train and bus network - 10 euros for 1 day, quite the deal!) I wound up back in Place d'Armes, where the band that had been setting up when I left was just kicking off a medley of - get this - "The Age of Aquarius" and "Let the Sun Shine In" from Hair!

Band performing in the rain in Place d'Armes

Finally back to my room at the Hotel l'Royal (very, very nice and only three blocks from the office) and time for a bit of refreshment before calling home and writing this up.

Fuel for the weary tourist: an almond croissant, water and a Coke Zero.

Tomorrow's outing will depend on the weather. If it's truly nasty I'll stay in town and hit the local museums. If it doesn't get too chilly, I'll head down to the Gare (train station) and try to make my way up to Vianden. Au revoir!