Civilians murdered at Arnhem
On the morning of September 19th, 1944, in the midst of the Battle of Arnhem, five Dutch civilians were executed by German troops in the Bakkerstraat. The fighting around Arnhem had intensified as part of Operation Market Garden, a bold Allied attempt to secure key bridges across the Netherlands. British airborne forces had landed a few days earlier, on September 17th, and quickly engaged in fierce urban combat with German defenders. Arnhem, particularly near the Rhine bridge, had become a battleground.
In the days following the airborne landings, local civilians were drawn into the chaos. Among them were those who chose to help the wounded. A domestic science school near Rijnkade was turned into a makeshift aid station. Two British paratroopers had been brought there, one of whom, Corporal Arthur Maybury, died during the night. A local doctor, Jan van Zwolle, who was tending to the wounded, found a folded list in the fallen soldier’s pocket. It contained names of Dutch citizens suspected of being collaborators with the occupying German forces. This list, perhaps intended for Allied intelligence, was taken by the doctor for safekeeping.
By dawn on the 19th, the area had become a contested zone between British and German troops. German soldiers eventually overran the school. They ordered those present—including wounded men, helpers, and local civilians—to move out and transport one injured man on a stretcher toward the hospital. As the group made its way through Bakkerstraat, they were stopped outside the Van Gend en Loos depot by another group of German soldiers.
At this point, the situation turned tragic. Seven people were separated and taken away in a vehicle. Five men remained: members of the local civil services and community, including the doctor. The Germans accused them of collaborating with the enemy and labeled them as terrorists. The list found on the doctor likely sealed their fate. The five were forced to stand against the wall and were shot on the spot.
Those who died that day were not soldiers but civilians—ordinary men who had simply tried to help during a time of war. Their names were Mielekamp, a member of the local air protection service; two men with the surname Smit, one an electrician working for the Dutch railways and the other an accountant; Veldhuizen, a caretaker at the industrial school; and Doctor Jan van Zwolle, whose act of compassion had tragically contributed to the accusations against them.
After the execution, the area remained under German control. Attempts by others to recover or even identify the bodies were thwarted. Eventually, it was reported that the victims had been buried in the garden of the depot, with two civilians forced to carry out the burial under German orders.
Twenty-five years later, on September 19th, 1969, a memorial plaque was unveiled at the site of the executions on Bakkerstraat. It stands as a quiet testament to the five lives taken in an act of senseless violence. These men were neither soldiers nor resistance fighters. They were ordinary citizens caught in the crossfire of one of the war's most ambitious, yet ultimately tragic, military operations.
