Troy & Simone's Belgian Adventure: American Cemeteries in BE & NL

The lands that now form Belgium occupy a strategic position on the European Continent and as such have been invaded and fought over since Roman times. Belgium was completely overrun during the two World Wars, and the impact that this had on its peoples' collective psyche, not to mention the physical landscape, remains even today.

Taken inside the chapel at the Ardennes American Cemetery. That small, charcoal-colored spot, criss-crossed with arrows, lying between France, Germany, and England, is Belgium.

There are 14 permanent American cemeteries in Europe, and during our most recent trip to The Netherlands we decided to pay a visit to the cemetery at Margraten (NL). On the way home, we literally stumbled across the cemetery at Henri-Chapelle (BE), located near the border. Having found these experiences so powerful, the following weekend we decided to visit the Ardennes American Cemetery (the other WWII cemetery in Belgium) as an alternative way of commemorating the 4th of July. At the Ardennes cemetery, we had the good fortune to meet the superintendent and get our own private tour of the grounds. We even helped him lower and fold the flag as Taps played and the cemetery prepared to close for the evening. It was special and beautiful and incredibly sad all at once. But, that is sort of the punchline...here is the story.

I come from a family with a lot of military veterans. My PaPa, (my Cajun/French great-grandfather on my mother's side) fought in the trenches in France in WWI; both of my grandfathers served in the Navy in the Pacific theater during WWII; and my great-uncle J.D. (my Mimi's brother) served in the 66th Black Panther Infantry Division and was one of the lucky ones who survived the D-Day landing at Normandy.

I suppose it is because of this family connection, and also owing to my keen interest in history, that I decided to join the Amitié Belgo-Americaine, an organization that promotes friendship and understanding between the US and Belgium. It also commemorates the sacrifice and aid America gave to Belgium during the wars—service that is still remembered and honored among Belgians despite the 65 years that have passed since D-Day. Among other things, on Memorial Day this organization places wreaths at each of the American cemeteries in Belgium (there are 3—a small WWI cemetery and two large WWII cemeteries).

When we were up in The Netherlands for my concerts, Troy found out that 10 km east of Maastricht lies the village of Margraten, site of the only American Cemetery in The Netherlands. Neither of us had ever visited a military cemetery, so we did not know exactly what to expect. I think we both anticipated that it would be powerful, but I was surprised at the depth of emotion I felt when I saw the burial ground for the first time. The rows and rows of perfectly matched crosses (and Stars of David) provoked what a friend rightly-termed a 'visceral' response in me. The sight of it all, and especially visualizing each marker as a man standing in the field, was stunning—tragic, horrible, and beautiful all at once.

We visited Margraten on a Sunday afternoon. It was a rare warm, sunny summer day and the setting was beautiful—very peaceful, with lovely, well-tended grounds. The photo above is of the chapel/monument. It lies at the end of a mall, the sides of which are formed by walls that list the names of 1700+ soldiers who fought and died in the area, but whose remains were never found. Due to my background and interest in design (and probably also as a means of coping with the heavy issues a military cemetery represents) I was very drawn to how the cemeteries were designed and how it felt to progress through the sites.

Beyond the chapel is the burial ground. The sea of crosses mark the final resting spot of over 8000 servicemen whose families chose to have them interred there, in a sense resting where they fell.

It might be difficult to make out the words, but the inscription on this cross says "Here rests in honored glory a Comrade in Arms known but to God." This phrase marks the graves of those who were found, but never identified. There is only one such marker at Margraten, though there are several at the other cemeteries.

Each cemetery had its own architect and landscape architect. At Margraten and Henri-Chapelle the designers laid out the crosses in rows that appear as straight lines when viewed from one perspective, but as curves when viewed from another angle. The photo above captures of a bit of the effect. It must have taken an enormous amount of time and precision to produce a design of this technical complexity but visual simplicity.

As opposed to the curving lines at the other cemeteries, at the Ardennes cemetery the site is laid out as a Greek-cross, with triangles forming sub-sets within the larger design.

These three cemeteries (and perhaps others) were jointly inaugurated in 1960 as part of a coordinated memorial effort. It was fascinating to see how the design conventions of the time played out differently at each site according to each designer's own interpretation. The photo above is the entrance/monument at Henri-Chapelle, while the photo below is the chapel/monument at Ardennes.

It is difficult, without sounding trite or cliché, to put into words what the feeling was like visiting each of these cemeteries. A whole host of conflicting ideas and emotions went swirling through my brain: sadness, war, loss, waste, sacrifice, patriotism, ideals, beauty, tragedy, peace. Despite the horror, there was something beautiful too. We looked at the names on the markers—Estrada, McCormick, Pojowsky—and saw America in a nutshell: immigrants from everywhere, but all Americans. All I can say is that I recommend that everyone make a visit to an American cemetery somewhere to contemplate some of these things and attempt to reconcile a bit of their meaning for himself.