More of this Feature • Day 1 • Day 2 • Day 3 • Day 4

Related Resources • Wendy's Nijmegen '99 • Gary's Ireland Walk • Gary's Luxembourg Review • Gary's Viborg 2-Day Walk Review • Gary's Hærvejsvandring 300K

From Other Guides • Europe for Visitors

Elsewhere on the Web • Nijmegen 4-Days Walk

The morning of the third day I could feel the strain of what was beginning to be too much marching in too short a period. I got out the gate and down the road OK, but I could feel the pain in my feet. I was experiencing the "broken bone" feeling. This is as best as I can describe it. It feels like the feet want to break. I started taking breaks along the route, in between the rest areas. Other American military were looking grim also but they pushed on when they should have rested more often. I got to the second rest area and was resting when I overheard an officer announce that one of their party was having his feet taped and bandaged, and they would "jet on". This would never happen in a European contingent. They believe in not leaving anyone behind. Loyalty to the member of a contingent outweighs any medal that may be on the line.

Day Three the pain was at its height in the morning. It had a negative affect on my focus and I fell behind the first contingents out the gate. I walked straight on after passing the main road and 1.5 kilometers from the front gate I turned left. I followed this street for about 200 meters and came to a major intersection where the civilians were joining in. I walked straight through the intersection and fell in with the civilians. Right there was where my trouble started. I walked on and on, my guess being about two kilometers. I then began to check my surroundings and realized there were ONLY civilians around me. I started worrying and when I got another 300 meters down the road I saw the route sign, clearly absent a green arrow. Realizing my mistake I turned around and walked all the way back to where I joined with the civilians and checked the signs. On the approach side (when I first approached the intersection) there was clearly a green arrow pointing straight with the civilians. On the far side of the intersection there was another sign albeit a green arrow. I was stuck. I looked back down the route where I had come and realized that all the military personnel had passed by this time. I was REALLY stuck. I walked along with the civilians to the next major intersection and asked a policeman. He wanted to help, but he was not sure. Then I looked far down the street and noticed blue police lights flashing. Time to toss the dice. 800 meters down I noticed camo clothing and rucksacks. Relieved? To say the least.

I saw Eric and Eva once again just after the first rest area. They were amazed I was still going at all as I had spoken to them at the Camp and they were aware of my having done the Haverjwandring prior to the Nijmegen. They correctly assumed a rest would be good for me and suggested I have a beer with them.

They marched on ahead as they had a better pace they I, and we were heading for Mook with its noticeable church steeple in the distance. New marchers use it as a reference point, but the landmark is evasive. The route meanders and the church does not get any closer for a long period of time. I learned to avoid looking towards it and waited until I was on the outskirts of the town before viewing it. Entering the town I realized it would be difficult to find Eric and Eva as the town was packed, the sides of the road shoulder to shoulder with people and a full blown carnival atmosphere was present. I stopped for a much needed rest and my "dogs were barking" seriously now. I plopped down and became the spectator. After this I stood and put on my rucksack and headed for the road. I was so tired I forgot my umbrella. The pace of the summer marches were getting to me now. By the time I realized my loss I was 2 kilometers down the road. And going back would have meant going aginst a sea of people. Cest le vie.

AnneMarie came up from behind again and we spent the remainder of the march together as long as out two routes were joined. I began to see further evidence of American military falling out, and contingents I came to recognize were dwindling in some cases. I met the American from Day One who had been carrying the extra weight. H was now carrying nothing, and was wearing tennis shoes, acceptable in medical emergencies. His feet were shot, and he was struggling terribly. But he was picking them up and putting them down. What many American servicemen and women lacked in training they made up for with sheer determination.

In the vicinity of Bredeweg we came to the Three Sisters, seven consecutive hills within about eight kilometers. Normally this would pose a challenge to the first year marcher. After Luxembourg it was a piece of cake and for AnneMarie a speed bump by comparison. We made the hills in easy fashion and at Berg en Dal we parted company and I headed for the Camp.

The Americans were breaking up and becoming strung out unlike our European counterparts. Many of the Americans had radios and I wondered what they would be used for other than reporting emergencies. But the chatter back and forth between contingents and obviously units back at Huemensoord was constant.

After entering the gate and changing clothes I could see evidence of American personnel on crutches and canes, and simply struggling to get from one place to the other. The dropout rate among them was nearing 8% according to my friends at the Dutch Liaison.

Next page > Day 4 > Intro, 1, 2, 3, 4