Tuesday, July 1, 2014

France Day 2



            After a 1:00 a.m. bedtime, Brian and I were out the door by 6, walking to the Metro and heading south to pick up a rental car.  In short order, we picked up the girls and baggage and headed across town, up the Champs-Ḗlysées, around the Arc de Triomphe and out of Paris.  By 11 we had arrived at the coast of Normandy.  The time passed by quickly on the drive; in fact, I don’t recall much after we passed the Arc.  Some of the less considerate passengers claimed my snoring on the road disturbed them.

Omaha Beach in more peaceful times

            When you think of Normandy, the first thing that comes to mind is that great conqueror, William, who was born in this northwestern region of France.  Or perhaps you think of the Hundred Years War, or Monet’s garden at Giverny, or the Bayeux Tapestry, or the magnificent Mont St-Michel.  No?  These are what my German friends always want to talk about; they never bring up the beautiful beaches or the summer of 1944—and after all, why drag up the past?


Tricia and weapon

            Well, what the heck.  Let’s drag it up, anyway.  For on the beaches of Normandy there occurred the largest military operation in history, when more than 6,000 watercraft and ships brought 135,000 troops from Great Britain to begin the destruction of the Third Reich.  In addition to the troops, more than 195,000 navy and merchant marine personnel were required in this massive amphibious assault.  The landings along 50 miles of beaches were the beginning of the Battle of Normandy, which lasted 76 unbelievably horrible days, when 37,000 Allied troops were killed and another170,000 wounded.  14,000 French civilians were also killed, while Germany suffered 200,000 casualties and 200,000 soldiers captured.  It is difficult to imagine the suffering--or the bravery-- of those gallant men who faced the dangers of an assault on these cliffs, where millions of rounds of bullets filled the air on D-Day, Tuesday, June 6, 1944.

Charlie and German long gun

       Before the 6:30 a.m. assault on the beaches began, the Allies flew in 24,000 paratroopers, shortly after midnight.  The rough seas and bad weather, together with diversionary assaults and the breaking of German coded messages, confused the enemy.  But the heavily fortified German positions made it a nightmare for our troops.  Crossing 200 yards of beach with 80 pounds of gear, these young men (most under the age of 21) saw 4,000 of their brothers killed that first day.  Some never even made it to the beach; jumping off the landing craft in water over their heads; they drowned before ever firing a shot.

       After going through the museum and marveling at the incredible bravery and resourcefulness of the American troops and their leaders, we drove on the the largest American cemetery in Europe (there are 14 of them scattered about).  It was a somber journey, and there we witnessed a wreath-laying ceremony followed by the playing of the Star Spangled Banner.  The crowd stood at attention, and there were few dry eyes as taps were then played.

       On this bluff overlooking Omaha Beach (one of five code named by the Allies), 9,387 Americans lie at rest with others who did not make it that day, and in various other military operations.  Among them are three Medal of Honor recipients, including Theodore Roosevelt, Jr.  He is buried beside Quentin Roosevelt, who was killed in World War I and brought here to be with his brother.  We also came across the graves of the two brothers whose story was loosely told in the movie Saving Private Ryan.

The brothers Niland, real names of the Ryans.

       The many appreciative American flags still flying in front of homes near here brightened our spirits a bit.  But the emotions stirred this day cannot be adequately expressed.  These memories will be long preserved.  It was somber day.

Charlie and Tricia
©2014

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