The Netherlands American Cemetery
The Netherlands American Cemetery, located near Margraten, is a solemn tribute to the sacrifices made by American soldiers during World War II. What began in November 1944 as a temporary military cemetery for the Ninth U.S. Army would become the final resting place for 8,301 American service members. They died during Operation MarketGarden, the battle in the Hürtgen Forest, the attacks on the Roer, and Rhine and during the continued advance toward Berlin. The cemetery also honors 1,722 missing soldiers and airmen, whose names are inscribed on the Walls of the Missing.
This serene site features perfectly aligned headstones, a reflecting pool, and a chapel adorned with stunning mosaics depicting the theme of sacrifice. It is not only a place of remembrance but also a symbol of enduring gratitude from the Dutch people, who for eighty years have adopted every grave and name of those on the Walls of the Missing and continue to honor the fallen through commemorative events.
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Visitors are invited to reflect on the profound cost of freedom and explore the stories of the heroes who rest here, ensuring their legacy lives on for generations.
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The American Battle Monuments Commission (ABMC) is responsible for the day-to-day management of the Netherlands American Cemetery. Established by Congress in 1923, the ABMC maintains and manages 26 permanent American military cemeteries and 32 federal memorials, monuments, and markers, across 17 countries throughout the world, including the United States.
“…I have been thinking, if there could not be done something for the relatives of those brave Americans, who gave their lives for our liberation. … And now that most of the Army has gone back to the States, and only your fallen heroes remain in our soil, we want to establish a lasting tie between their relatives and our people.”
- Emilie Michiels van Kessenich to Harry S. Truman, President of the United States
The Grave Adoption Program
The Grave Adoption Program at the Netherlands American Cemetery in Margraten is a one-of-a-kind initiative where local Dutch families, individuals, schools, and organizations have adopted the graves of American soldiers and airmen, and those whose names are listed on the Walls of the Missing. This unique program reflects the deep gratitude and respect the Dutch people hold for the American service members who fought and died to liberate a portion of the Netherlands during World War II.
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At the end of World War II, Dutch leaders of the grave adoption program made an urgent appeal to American families with a loved one buried at Margraten: “Leave your boys with us; we will watch over them like our own, forever.“ However, next-of-kin information was not available for 80 percent of those buried which prevented that vital step of Dutch adopters connecting with American family members. Over the decades, the Foundation for Adopting Graves and its adopters have located additional family members bringing the number to about 25 percent, far short of the 100 percent goal the program's founders envisioned. Even today, very few Americans know about the Dutch grave adoption program. Some next of kin are not even aware that a family member is buried at the Netherlands American Cemetery and that the grave of their loved one has been watched over by someone in the Netherlands for decades. In 2017, the program was designated under UNESCO guidelines as a part of the Dutch National Inventory of Immaterial Cultural Inheritance, to be safeguarded in the same way as historic buildings and cultural sites.
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For those who haven’t had the privilege of visiting the Netherlands American Cemetery, and as a way of encouraging you to make that journey, we invite you to share in the experiences of three people, through their words, who visited the cemetery in years past.
My heart was quiet with the expectancy of unbelief for just a moment, and then I caught my first real glimpse of the cemetery itself. A fine white-gray light, it seemed to me, took the place on the brown of the hill of the dark earth plowed and the green, growing grain. Over my consciousness crept the realization, slowly, that this light was formed by thousands of small white crosses in perfect symmetry upon the hilltop.
At the head, as it were, of this field of white, quietly, from a tall white pole, flew the American flag. We did not speak to each other much, and each knew only what was in his own mind. But I had come to stand in tribute at the grave of my son, and so had his mother and his brothers. It was a thing of awe and majesty to see the quiet, peaceful field of crosses.
Row upon row, they lie as they marched. Side by side, they sleep in death as they had slept in camp, no rank or honor sets one aside from the other. No great room is needed for each. But perfectly spaced, in beautiful order, under clipped grass, before white crosses and Stars of David of uniform and appropriate size, each soldier's body lies. They face a little south of west, looking toward the homes they loved so much and never more shall see.
An American father, who visited the cemetery with his wife and family to say goodbye to his son.
We went by bike, deciding to cycle up all the inclines without stopping. There was almost no traffic—no people on the road. We parked our cycles and walked past the tower with its Chapel and glanced across the endless field. Neither of us spoke.
As we stood there, both with our own thoughts—the early morning cold sun rose above the horizon as if to stretch and reach for the crosses. As it did so we saw a very mysterious sight. There between each cross, there was an “air thread” (probably created by spiders as they wished to travel across the special field). It seemed as if a voice spoke to us: ‘Be still, thou art standing on Holy Ground.’ Some of the air threads had got hold of dewdrops, which the rising sun lit up with its golden light. The gustiest of breezes made the dew drops quiver and transformed them into miniature jewels, each shimmering with a small gift of ‘rainbow.’
We both knew that this was a special moment. It was a glimpse into Heaven. We knew our hearts had reunited with those we had come to visit.
A teenager on a visit she made with her sister to see an American soldier her family knew and cared for.
I have no idea why my mother made the decision to leave my father at the Netherlands American Cemetery rather than elect to have him brought home after the war, but I have been forever grateful that she did. He is so much more honored and respected being there, side-by-side with all the other American men and women, than he would have been if he’d been brought home.
The daughter of an American soldier, speaking about the father she never knew
TO LEARN MORE ABOUT THE CEMETERY AND
THE ADOPTION PROGRAM
