June 6, 1944

Today is the 66th anniversary of the Allied troops storming the beach at Normandy. I'm sure the film "Saving Private Ryan" may have best encapsulated the horror of that day. And I will continue to extol the quality of the series, "Band of Brothers". Everybody's DVD library should have this series.

In the summer of 1983, I had the opportunity to study at the University of Exeter in the UK. While there, I had the great fortune to be in Normandy during the D-Day remembrances (June 6th fell on a Monday). I was awed by the still-pockmarked beach, where tourists were kept to paths lest unexploded ordinance was still present. The pillboxes were eerie. The cemetery is humbling.

Our little group found a bread-and-breakfast arrangement late in the evening in Point-du-Hoc. The French family was delightful, and insisted on making us a multi-course meal. Oh. My. The bread. I discovered the glories of mussels steamed in white wine and garlic. I was the only one who ate them, as I recall. I kept eating.

Sometime in the evening, when we were out on a walk, we encountered a very drunk American, who had been on the beaches 39 years before. He was in tears, remembering the day, his friends. I am sure he was cared for that evening.

I am no war expert or historian, but I'm sure it would be hard to argue that warfare has changed since WWII. I will suggest that since WWII, perhaps the conflicts fought by the US weren't as necessary as was WWII. All war is odious, but I believe WWII was necessary for the US to enter. No one has presented the overarching threat that Hitler did. And between Europe and the Pacific theatre, that the US managed to mobilize its industry as it did, is unprecedented.

I didn't have family in the D-Day invasion, but my two uncles on my mother's side fought in Europe and the Pacific (my Uncle Jim was wounded in the Battle of Saipan). Dad was in the Coast Guard and had a world tour thanks to Uncle Sam. He didn't see combat, but I believe had hearing loss from the guns aboard ship. His brother, Uncle Rus, was Army Air Corps.

Maybe it's because I was born so late, 12 years after the youngest sibling. Mom was 40, Dad 45 when I was born. So I guess I listened to stories and recollections that makes me feel like WWII was in my era. Maybe I died in battle too, and my affinity is a past life coming through. I have no idea.

But I am humbled by the sacrifices made by these men whose graves dot the countryside. May they rest in peace.