80th anniversary in Arnhem of Operation Market Garden

Geoff Roberts pays his tribute at Arnhem last weekendAS 99-year-old Geoff Roberts, the last surviving Arnhem veteran fit enough to attend last weekend’s 80th anniversary commemorations, laid his wreath at the airborne cemetery in Oosterbeek, I was saddened to realise how much things had changed.

I remembered 20 years earlier, when I first went to Arnhem, looking through the window of the Schoonoord Cafe and seeing the place full of vets of that battle – sharing stories over a drink with old friends. This year there weren’t any there. Remembrance had changed.

I was in Holland with the great honour of hosting my own battlefield tour for Leger with a group of the Chelsea Pensioners. They all live in the Royal Hospital in London – but I was surprised to meet one acquaintance from Darlington, Barry Williams, who I had regularly volunteered with during the Poppy Appeal. We also had a gentleman from Thornaby with us, Tony Fox – a small world!

Chelsea Pensioner Barry Williams, from Darlington, who served with the Royal Artillery, leads the way onto the Arnhem battlefieldWe started the week with a tour of the landing and drop zones, where Darlington’s Peter Hill and Old Barnardian David Hartley had both landed in September 1944. Their story was told in last weekend’s Memories.

READ THE FULL STORY HERE: THE DARLINGTON GILDERMAN AT ARNHEM

Mike Renton explains how Operation Market Garden unfoldedI used magnets to pin a large map to the side of the coach and even the pensioners, who between the 17 of them had a combined age of 1,452 years, were surprised to see how far we were from the bridge, the ultimate objective of the 1st Airborne Division during Operation Market Garden.

Mike Renton joins the Royal Chelsea Pensioners outside the Hartenstein Hotel in OosterbeekWe spent time at the Hartenstein Hotel, where the Division would set up its HQ during the battle and where both Peter and David would dig in and experience eight days of fierce fighting. We also spent time at the bridge itself, where I raised a Barnard Castle School glass to David Hartley.

Raising a Barnard Castle School glass to Old Barnadian David Hartley, who fought at the bridge in ArnhemHartley attended the school because his father, an Army officer, was stationed at Catterick. On the night of September 25-26, he met Peter beside the Rhine, which they had to cross to safety. However Peter, a glider pilot, could not swim. David, suffering a shrapnel injury to his shoulder, helped him into a boat which was overturned by a German bomb. He then swam with him in the rescue position until the strong current won over his injured shoulder.

Sjt Peter Burke Hill, whose mother remained in Darlington until the 1960sPeter’s body was found three weeks later 20 miles downstream.

It was as we retraced their steps that I started to see the draw of the scarlets – the long red jackets that each pensioner wears.

On our final day in Arnhem, we attended the 80th anniversary commemoration in the cemetery in Oosterbeek. Princess Anne and General Sir Roly Walker were among the VIP guests, but when we entered the cemetery the pensioners, in their humble manner, tried to avoid special attention as we were seated at the front of the commemoration.

It reminded me of a story one of them had told me a few days before of someone refusing him entry to a museum in his scarlets because “this isn’t about you”. At times, I felt that they lived by that mantra, that they were there to respect others and not themselves. I wholeheartedly disagree.

As I gave my closing remarks of the trip on the coach back to London, I repeated this story and told them they were wrong. That the commemorations they attended were as much about them as they were about our fallen. Remembrance isn’t conflict, battle or casualty specific. People don’t choose to fight – they choose to serve. It is chance that places them in the landing craft, on board the Spitfire or fighting to reach the bridge.

Soldiers of our generation, like good friends of mine who each have decades of service and saw combat in their own wars. My father gave 22 years to the Territorial Army and was lucky enough never to be mobilised. They all took the risk of serving their country and it was only circumstance that chose their paths.

The Chelsea Pensioners resplendent at the Arnhem commemoration last weekendMy pensioners on that trip had a combined 475 years of service – which dwarfs my two in the Royal Signals reserve. I finished by saying to them that if any one of them had been born years earlier, I had no doubt that Arnhem would have been their war.

Anyone who serves or fights for the preservation of peace deserves to be respected, and honoured. That is how remembrance will live on once the last of our Second World War heroes has passed away.

READ MORE: FROM COUNDON TO HOLLYWOOD: HOW ROBERT REDFORD PLAYED A DURHAM LAD IN A BRIDGE TOO FAR, THE CLASSIC ARNHEM FILM