By Norma Meyer

In the Lilliputian land of Luxembourg, real-life princesses bedazzle and larger-than-life U.S. Gen. George S. Patton Jr. lies buried in a simple grave. Who knew? I also meandered miles through world-record-long underground tunnels of an ancient fortress that a mythical mermaid haunts. And I soared in a chairlift over a verdant valley dominated by both a monumental medieval castle and heart-pounding history of World War II.

Within 48 hours, I eyeballed much of an entrancing European country just 998 square miles in size. Being dinky is darn convenient. From Luxembourg's cobblestoned town center, "It's about a 40-minute drive to France, a 40-minute drive to Germany and a 25-minute drive to Belgium," a tourism rep said. "You can see four countries in four days."

Visit here and you'll step foot in the world's only Grand Duchy — that's what Luxembourg is called because it's headed by a pomp-and-circumstance grand duke (his name is Henri and, natch, he's Hollywood handsome). The national language is convoluting Luxembourgish so "moien" means "hello" (French and German are also spoken.) And if Luxembourgers seem cheery, that's because, cha-ching, they reside in the second-richest country on Earth (the Grand Duchy is an international banking hub — and tax haven).

And, boy, is this below-the-radar destination as neat as a pin. From majestic castles (more than 50) to cozy hamlets framed by picturesque arched bridges to the vineyard-voluptuous Moselle wine region, you'd never guess it'd been thrashed by various vanquishers over a millennium. Also, I felt huge group hugs for being an American — in museums, memorials and conversations, there's an outpouring of thanks to U.S. armed forces for liberating Luxembourg from the Nazis during World War II.

My first stop was the emotional American Cemetery, where legendary Patton is buried with his fallen troops from the tide-turning Battle of the Bulge on Luxembourg soil during the war. Orderly rows of white crosses and Jewish stars mark the remains of 5,076 U.S. service members — including 22 sets of brothers — killed fighting the Germans. Overlooking the graves, between two flagpoles, is Patton's similar cross. The California-born "Old Blood and Guts" died after breaking his neck in a freak car crash in Germany just months after the war ended in 1945. Per his wishes, his body was returned to Luxembourg to be interred with his soldiers. (Years later, because his non-military wife wasn't allowed to be laid at his side, their children surreptitiously sprinkled her ashes on his grave.)

Miles away, the war comes jarringly alive at the artifact-packed National Museum of Military History in Diekirch, filled with chilling life-size re-created scenes that thrust you into combat fought right outside the front door. In room after room, with human-looking mannequins, authentic vehicles, uniforms and artillery, you'll experience the Battle of the Bulge, the war's largest and deadliest for U.S. forces, in the brutal winter of 1944-45. The searing centerpiece diorama: Patton's infantrymen crossing the frozen Sauer river at nighttime, their wounded comrades' red blood a horrid contrast to the pure-white snow.

The museum is in the Ardennes, a rolling forested region whose big draw is the walled medieval village of Vianden. On a rugged cliff facing the spectacular Vianden Castle I stood where an anti-artillery gun fired at the enemy before embattled Vianden became the last Luxembourg town freed by the Allies in February 1945.

A chairlift whisked me over the scenic Our River Valley and Vianden Castle, once inhabited by powerful counts. Afterward, I hiked through walnut groves on a woodlands trail to the fairytale furnished fortress. Inside I peeked at its Middle Ages wine cellar and beds so short that sleepers had to sit up because, as my audioguide informed, "Only the dead were laid to rest lying down."

Luxembourg, I learned, was sacked by many conquerors. In its capital, Luxembourg City, I descended into 11 miles of eerie UNESCO World Heritage-listed subterranean passageways — the longest "casemates," or bunkers, in the world - burrowed beneath oft-attacked Bock fortress. Luxembourg's founder, Count Siegfried, first built a defensive castle on the spot in 963, the same year he wed lovely Melusina, who, legend has it, turned out to be half-serpent and supposedly is still spotted in the river below. In the 17th and 18th centuries, 14 miles of the rock-hewn caverns harbored thousands of soldiers, their horses, weapon-crafters, and slaughterhouses to feed warriors battling invaders that included the Spanish, French, Austrians and Prussians. I paused in a dreary dungeon and beside rusted cannons at lookout points affording splendid panoramic views, getting why the promontory-perched stronghold made Luxembourg the "Gibraltar of the North." Later, during World War II, it was used as a bomb shelter that could hold up to 35,000 people.

Emerging outside, I strolled along crumbling ramparts on an elevated promenade dubbed "Europe's most beautiful balcony." The Chemin de la Corniche precariously edges over the winding Alzette river, pastel-hued antique homes and steepled churches.

Back in the town center, I ogled where His Royal Highness Henri and Cuban-born wife Maria Teresa are in residence when they're not hanging in their countryside castle. Their city digs are the 16th-century Renaissance-style Grand Ducal Palace next to the parliament's headquarters (Luxembourg is a constitutional monarchy). The palace is steeped in drama: After the Nazis deported Luxembourg Jews to concentration camps, they looted the royal residence and turned it into their tavern.

Across the walkway, I trolled for tiara-wearers. This was at the Chocolate House, a 500-year-old onetime nobleman's pad now peddling Hot Chocospoons in flavors such as Apfelstrudel. You can soak a chocolate-encrusted wooden spoon in steaming hot milk while sitting outside hoping to glimpse the grand duke or duchess or their five grown kids or spouses, all photogenic princesses and princes with accomplishments of their own. One daughter-in-law princess is a bioethics researcher; another princess drove armored Hummers in Luxembourg's Army.

"The royals are not that bling-bling," a resident explained. "They do not show off because that would not be appreciated by the people."

Luxembourg's most revered woman may be the 1923-created Golden Lady, a memorial rising from Constitution Square and dedicated to those who served in both world wars (Luxembourg was also occupied by the Germans during World War I). The gilded female figure, who extends a laurel wreath overhead, was hidden from Nazi forces in 1940 and went missing for 40 years until she was discovered buried under bleachers at Luxembourg's main football stadium.

I finished my 48-hour foray on a cruise boat gliding down the Moselle River in wine country, flanked by vineyard-stacked hillsides of Riesling grapes. And how cool is this: In the Moselle village of Schengen, I stood on one side of a two-lane bridge that was in France, walked to the bridge's other side to be in Germany and from either point looked over at Luxembourg — three countries at once.

WHEN YOU GO

Trip-planning information, including hotels and activities, are at the official tourism site, www.visitluxembourg.com.

(SET CAPTION). This spectacular view is from remnants of the ancient Bock fortress that made tiny Luxembourg the "Gibraltar of the North." Photo courtesy of Norma Meyer. (END CAPTION

Norma Meyer is a freelance writer. To read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.