Calvin’s legacy - speech by Dutch Minister Stef Blok on Memorial Day 2019

Toespraak | 25-05-2019

Ambassador Hoekstra, Excellencies, admirals, generals, veterans, relatives of the servicemen laid to rest here, ladies and gentlemen,

On this most solemn of occasions, starting my speech with a few lines from a letter written by a 10-year old Dutch girl called Ileen to her pen-pal Stella in the United States, may seem a bit odd. Unfitting even… after all, the words seem so ordinary, describing a life that could be that of any Dutch girl.

‘Dear Stella, I am Ileen and we are at home with 6 persons. My father, my mother and my three younger sisters: Imke, Fleur and Linde. My hobbies are gymnastic, drawing and crafting – and I’ve put a lot of self-made handicrafts in my room. (…) Oh, and I also have a very nice hockey team. Greetings, Ileen.’

She’s decorated the page with sweet little glittery stickers, including one of a pink Barbie doll…

A very ordinary letter, in other words. Typical of the kind of thing 10-year-old girls write to each other.

So why read from it here, today?

First, because behind these simple lines lies a powerful story. These two girls are united by a special bond. A bond created by a historic turn of events.

Seventy-five years ago, Ileen’s family lived in Nazi-occupied territory.

Her great-grandfather, just eighteen at the time, was forced to work in the German armament industry – like many other Dutch men and boys. Other family members suffered oppression, fear and hunger, and witnessed the horrors of war.

Across the ocean, in the United States, Stella’s great-great uncle, 21-year old Calvin Bjornsgaard, told his parents he was leaving college to fight Hitler. So he could help liberate Europe.

Calvin packed his bags, enlisted, and crossed the ocean.

On the 17th of April 1943, his plane, conducting strategic air strikes over Nazi Germany, met with heavy enemy anti-aircraft fire.

His plane was shot down. Calvin died that day.

A fate shared by so many young American soldiers, who fought for our freedom.

Something we will always be grateful for.

They paid the ultimate price.

Their sacrifice meant the victory of freedom over oppression. Of democracy over tyranny. Of life over death.

On the rubble of that devastating war, we were able to rebuild our shattered societies. To forge new bonds with our partners and allies. In NATO, the European Union and the United Nations. Building a free world, with the invaluable leadership of the United States.

And it was that rock-solid bond between transatlantic allies that inspired the Netherlands to become one of NATO’s founding nations.

Because after the Second World War, we knew not only that the US plays a fundamental role in ensuring security, but also that we are safer together than we are apart. We will continue to invest in this crucial bond.

That same commitment led the Netherlands to become an active participant in UN issues, and a founding member of the European Coal and Steel Community – later the European Union. We were also the only country in the world to amend our Constitution to undertake to promote the development of the international legal order.

It is both an obligation and in our best interest.

Today, we stand here with bowed heads, deeply grateful to these fallen soldiers for the legacy they have given us.

A legacy of freedom and justice for all.

Peace should never be taken for granted.

That’s why we continue to commemorate all those soldiers.

Why we still share stories of courageous young men like Calvin.

And why we teach our children about the Second World War.

Dutch families adopted every one of the 8,301 graves behind me, - and the 1,722 names on the walls of the missing - and are passing this responsibility on across the generations.

Like Ileen’s family - the girl whose letter I just read to you.

Ileen’s great-great-grandfather Pierre adopted Calvin’s grave. His daughter Miny took over this stewardship, ringing Calvin’s mother every time she laid flowers at the white headstone.

Then it was Ileen’s grandmother Marjan’s turn. And one day Ileen’s uncle Bas will take over as the custodian of Calvin’s grave. 

Seventy-five years later, two families are still connected by a shared history of courage and sacrifice, gratitude and friendship.

And perhaps, one day, it will be Ileen’s turn to continue this tradition.

I know she’s hearing this, because she’s sitting right over there with her grandmother, her uncle, and Cathy – Calvin’s niece.

I just had the honour of meeting them all, before the ceremony.

Two families, one from the United States and the other from the Netherlands – five generations – who became friends.

Marjan and Cathy, now both in their late sixties, feel like sisters.

And their young granddaughters – Ileen and Stella – write letters to one another.

Letters showing that these girls live in a free country, where they do not have to be afraid. Where they can play hockey and do handicrafts.

Where they can go to school and learn. And build their own future.

A future made possible by brave men like Calvin.

Today, ladies and gentlemen, we express our deepest gratitude to all those courageous soldiers who are buried here – who paid the ultimate price for our freedom.

We will continue to honour them. Peace can never be taken for granted.

Thank you.