We are proud serving members of the 48th Highlanders of Canada. We know the names of our fallen forefathers now buried in Holten War Cemetery. We learned about the regiment’s role in Operation Cannonshot and their crossing at Ijssel. We read of the mad 200-yard crawl Maj Beal made towards Able Company’s lead section south of Wilp and the tragic loss of the Commanding Officer (CO), LCol Donald MacKenzie, to artillery fire. In the Regimental History book we discovered the blazing courage of Lt Johnstone during Charlie Company’s assault on Hoven and Steenkamer, Capt George’s whip-fast raid of Baker Company into Twello, and the grievous slog of Dog Company into the sniper-infested Apeldoorn. We read the war diaries. We studied the battle maps. We prepped our dress, packed our kilts, and set off, 80 years after the gallantry and toil, to the Netherlands, the land these actions liberated.
By most accounts, I am not a wizened Senior Non-Commissioned Officer (NCO). One would call me a Junior Sergeant, having only earned the third chevron a few months prior to our journey. Regardless, I have attended my share of ceremonies. I’ve marched with the regiment in the streets of Toronto, and stood in silence many times during Remembrance Day. Silence was my reaction during our first parade in Apeldoorn; my silence contrasted with the cheers and words of kindness from the Dutch people. This feeling would continue during our marches at The Het Loo Palace, Wageningen, and Beekbergen. Further accentuated by the red maple leaf flying alongside the Dutch tri-colour flag.
Present in the streets and in the hearts of the Dutch people were the gratitude and reverence of our regiment that I had yet to experience. Elderly Dutch folks approached us, asking for photos or just to politely exchange words or memories held close in the long halls of their mind. Bagpipes, which were very present during our time there, sparked emotion in the crowds. During liberation, highland regiments played bagpipes as the Allies arrived. Their music in the town square sparked feelings of freedom from years of occupation. Arnold Koopman, who was just a child when the Canadian 1st Division arrived in Apeldoorn in the final phases of Operation Cannonshot, described the sight of Canadian soldiers rolling in on vehicles as “…10-foot gladiators sitting on their iron horses.”
The pride and respect that we encountered for our regiment was beyond our expectations. Our accommodations were within the same location that our regiment was billeted following Operation Cannonshot. There is a plaque at what appears to be a non-descript portion of the river Ijssel, where the regiment crossed. The church in the small town of Wilp, which the 48th advanced through, is steeped in as much regimental history as the museum we have in St. Andrew’s Church back home. This was where we fought, where we lost our own. The nineteen Highlanders killed during Operation Cannonshot still have crosses laid nearby. Tended to by devoted members of the community, they commemorate the Highlanders’ initial burial place shortly after the action. The aforementioned Wilp church holds a stone engraving, thanking the Highlanders who fought to free the people there. Within the church, the regiment replaced the pipe organ that was initially destroyed during the fighting.In a recent symbol of remembrance, a street within the town was named MacKenzieplaat to honour our fallen CO, LCol Mackenzie.
There is an astounding number of memorials in the Netherlands, as this is where the war was fought. The land may not clearly hold the scars of the war, but it is profoundly remembered in all the memorials placed there. Holten War Cemetery, so immaculately kept, demonstrated the sanctity of this memory. The remembrance ceremony, which was conducted among the graves, honoured the fallen. Dutch children laid flowers, poppies dropped from the sky, and we gave our own personal highland touches as we visited the graves of our lads. I was assigned to learn about one of them, Private (Pte) William John Edward Staughton of Toronto, Killed in Action (KIA) 12 April 1945. It was a moving moment to be given the chance to exchange a few quiet words and to share a fair amount of Drambuie. All of this was augmented by the accumulated sentiment so relentlessly brought forth by our experience of the Dutch people while there.
There is a concept of living memorials that is more often applied to organic structures (such as trees) than people. Yet, marching through the parades in the Netherlands, I found myself reflecting on the thought that we, the currently serving members of the 48th Highlanders of Canada, act as living memorials. To the Dutch people that greeted us so warmly, cheering us on, and to the children that put their hands out for high-fives on the parade routes (some of us broke rank to oblige them), we were multi-faceted. We represent the brave men who made the ultimate sacrifice for the liberation of their country. We represent the current relationship between our countries and peoples. We represent ourselves as soldiers, volunteers in lineage, for a cause that brought peace so far from home to a people in need. Eighty years after the gallantry and toil, we represent The 48th Highlanders of Canada, Dileas gu Brath.
Written by Sgt. Patrick Navarro
for Honouring Bravery
Images courtesy of Sgt. Navarro and the 48th Highlanders of Canada.
