A British army cadet plays a bugle while marching on Day 3 of the international Nijmegen marches in the Netherlands on July 23, 2026. (Lydia Gordon/Stars and Stripes)
NIJMEGEN, Netherlands — While boots may be made for walking, the mere sight of them had become enough to make thousands of service members wince ahead of Day 3 of their 100-mile Dutch gauntlet.
With 50 miles of the international Nijmegen marches behind them, another 50 still lay ahead. But unlike the first half of the march, the remaining distance would be filled with heavy doses of lingering fatigue from all the previous footsteps. Then there’s the daunting terrain on top of everything else.
Infamously known to marchers as the “Day of the Seven Hills,” the third of the four days of the Nijmegen march is widely regarded as the event’s toughest.
“I feel like ‘grit’ is the reputation of Day 3,” Army Capt. Anna Carnegie, with the 83rd Combat Sustainment Support Battalion, said Thursday.
While the rolling climbs are physically demanding, the greater challenge is often mental. Marchers tend to grapple with the knowledge that they still have to cover the same distance they have already conquered, only now with bodies worn down by the back-to-back almost-marathons.
“It’s just far enough for people to recognize they’re in pain, but just close enough to taste the finish line,” Carnegie added.
The official distance for military marchers is 40 kilometers per day, or close to 25 miles, though the course length fluctuates most days.
Surrounding the military teams are tens of thousands of civilian walkers, some of whom traveled around the world to take part in what is widely considered the globe’s largest organized multiday walking event.
“The civilian and military marchers were definitely showing the miles,” former Army Maj. Gerald Holodak said.
Unlike the military marchers in Nijmegen, civilian participants have a choice of course length. The options are 30, 40 or 50 kilometers.
Another key difference is that the civilian marchers generally aren’t carrying weighted rucksacks and wearing military attire.
While the crowds remained electric, many marchers showed more signs of fatigue and frustration than previous days, Holodak said.
Defining moments often came through conversations with strangers. Holodak recalled swapping stories with participants who had completed the event dozens of times, learned how far others had traveled and found common ground in the shared challenge.
Within the fences of Camp Heumensoord, the temporary encampment housing military marchers, the day wound down much like the last, albeit slower.
Across the camp, teammates tend to one another’s blistered feet, massage aching muscles and stretch out sore legs.
Others somehow found enough to literally go the extra mile. Contingents from countries including Sweden and Finland could even be seen jogging in formation through the camp after completing the day’s distance.
Despite wearing different uniforms and speaking different languages, every contingent was united by the same experience — not to mention the pain.
Yet the mood remained remarkably unchanged. There was still laughter, words of encouragement and quiet determination, all centered on the same thought: one more day, one more marathon, one final challenge.
“Today was so much fun. I feel better today than I did when I started,” Holodak said. “We already know we can walk 40 kilometers. Barring injuries, I think that anyone who can finish Day 3 can finish Day 4.”

