Speech by Vincent van Neerbos on May 4, 2026

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,

Today we are gathered here—as neighbors, as families, as a community—to commemorate. We commemorate the civilians and service members who have lost their lives since the outbreak of World War II. Here in the Netherlands, but also elsewhere in the world.

For some of us, the war is a thing of the distant past. For others, it is still a part of their daily lives. But one thing is true for all of us: their lives, their choices, and their fates connect us, generations later, to a past that has left a deep mark. Even if you never experienced that time yourself.

This year’s national theme is “Understanding History.” That might sound like something for textbooks or museums. But it’s really about something very simple: understanding why we’re standing here together today. Understanding why this day is important.

Remembrance is more than just looking back. It also requires listening. Listening to the voices of a generation that has almost disappeared. The last eyewitnesses to the war are increasingly unable to tell their stories themselves. Many of them have since passed away. What remains are their memories, the lessons they wanted to pass on, and the responsibility that now rests with us.

Understanding history means looking beyond just the major events. It means paying attention to personal stories—stories of ordinary people. People who woke up in the morning not knowing what the day would bring. People who never imagined they would experience a war, yet found themselves faced with life-altering choices.

That history unfolded right here in our own villages and streets. Here, too, there were families who lost loved ones. Here, too, there were people who went into hiding, who helped others, who were forced to flee, who waited and hoped that the war would end. And here, too, scars remain—sometimes visible, sometimes only felt—within families, passed down from generation to generation.

It is up to us to keep those memories alive. Not because we want to dwell on the past, but because we want to understand the price of freedom.

The historical working groups in our community are doing important work in this regard. They collect and preserve our history. They ensure that stories from World War II are not lost, so that young people can continue to learn about what happened here.

One such story is the story of the attack on the Wiljo.
On September 9, 1944, a small boat, the Wiljo, was attacked by British fighter planes on the Meuse River near Oijen. The pilots spotted movement on the river and assumed it was an enemy target.

There were no soldiers on board, but a family from our community. The small boat was on its way from Maasbommel Alphen pick up a pig that had been slaughtered clandestinely. Food was scarce. Meat was only available with ration coupons.

They didn’t dare go over the dike because there was a German outpost there. They were afraid the meat would be confiscated. Crossing the Meuse seemed the least risky option, despite warnings that Allied planes would shoot at anything moving across the river.

That decision had fatal consequences. The shelling claimed the lives of three adults. Only Wim, a boy who was nearly three years old, survived. He was wounded in the arm and taken to the hospital in Oss.
After being discharged, Wim stayed with a family in Alphen a year and a half Alphen was then raised by an aunt.
The tugboat Wiljo is still in service, now under the name Johan.

This story shows how the grand sweep of world history can suddenly feel very close to home. It shows how war affects ordinary people—parents, children, families. It shows how a single moment can change a life forever.

We don’t just commemorate by standing here on May 4. We also do so by applying what we learn from these stories to our daily lives—by speaking out against injustice, against exclusion, and against division and indifference.

Freedom requires effort. Freedom cannot be taken for granted. 

The exact meaning of freedom is not set in stone. In 1941, U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt spoke of the Four Freedoms: freedom of speech, freedom of worship, freedom from want—the right to basic necessities—and freedom from fear.

It is precisely that last freedom that matters today. Freedom from fear does not mean that the world is without danger. It means that we have the right not to let fear control us. That we continue to think, continue to talk, and continue to focus on what really matters. That we do not have to let ourselves be intimidated.

Here in the Netherlands, we live in one of the safest and most prosperous societies ever. Yet every day we are confronted with fear and scare tactics—through social media, through newspaper headlines, and through opinions shouted out at birthday parties or in political circles. 

True freedom requires something else. It requires a level-headed approach. An understanding of history. And the ability to see things in perspective. Fear does not disappear through promises from above, but through critical thinking. Through trust in an open society. And through trust in one another.

At a time when the world is once again marked by war, polarization, and uncertainty, it is important that we remain aware of what is at stake. Understanding history not only helps us make sense of the past, but also guides how we interact with one another today.

The people we commemorate today gave too much for us to allow fear to guide us now.
Let us therefore not only commemorate them, but also reflect on what this day asks of us: that we continue to invest in peace; that we continue to listen to one another; and that we pass on the freedom that was fought for us to future generations with care and courage.

In a moment, we will observe two minutes of silence together.
And we will remember them.

To those we have to thank for the fact that we don't have to be afraid today.

Thank you.

Vincent van Neerbos, Mayor of