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Published: October 12th 2009
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When we first started planning our roadtrip through Europe, there was really only one place that I was concerned about going, and that was the beaches of Normandy. For those of you that don't know, my Grandfather on my Mom's side was among those that stormed the beaches during World War II. He was in the third wave of soldiers, which is probably one of the deciding factors of my family existing to this day. I've always wanted to see these beaches because they are such a symbol of both freedom and tragedy in World history, and I wanted to see for myself the place that held such a grave importance to the liberation of Europe from the holds of Hitler.
When we drove out of Paris we didn't really know where we were headed, we just pointed ourselves NorthWest and hoped we came across a beach where we could hunker down for the night in the little Daewoo without getting arrested. We ended up at Sword Beach where Britain stormed ashore, one of five of the beaches stormed on D-Day pretty late at night, where we sat and ate sweet corn and Paprika flavored chips while we watched the
waves crash on the beach. That night we slept in the car on the beach with bright lights in our eyes and a slight concern that the peoples who's houses we were parked in front of very well might call the cops when the realized that there were two girls sleeping in a car across from them.
The following morning was simply amazing. We awoke at first light to realize that the sun was rising over the ocean. Honestly I was a little surprised that I got to watch the sunset on the beach as from my understanding of the basic geography the coastline faced North. Apparently I was wrong, though, as the sun really was rising over the ocean a little to the left. We walked along the beach where there were thousands of shells scattered about the shore and various different pockets of sea water that got trapped in the night. Waking up on the beach truly gave me a sense of comraderie with the ocean that I had never before had. I've always been the mountain girl, more inclined to be impressed by a mountain lake, or a sunset over the rockies, but I found a
new appreciation for the ocean with its wonderful rumble and salty smell. Today was our last day in Europe, we had to catch a ferry that night, and so had to be on our way as it was at least a six hour drive back up the coast to Calais and we wanted to be able to see the different beaches, as well as the American Cemetary.
From Sword Beach we worked our way down the coast to Juno Beach where the Canadians stormed ashore just as the mist was rising off the land and the sun was starting to bake it away. It was very foggy though, and definitely lent a mysterious and sombering quality to the visit. The last beach we made it to was Omaha Beach, which was the Primary American landing point. This definitely seemed like the main beach, as there were numerous landmarks attesting to the overwhelming gratitude the townspeople felt towards the soldiers who liberated them. There were a few different German bunkers that had been converted to War Memorials, as well as a very large sculpture erected in Honor of the American soldiers, both those who had died and those who had
Juno Beach, Normandy, France
The fog was just starting to burn off enough that the pictures made any sense. survived. This particular beach definitely evoked the greatest sense of awe thinking about what my Grandfather must have seen, the things he must have witnessed, and the feeling of so many souls who perished here. I was struck by the serene silence of the place with only the sounds of the ocean breaking the morning air. There were very few people on the beach this early in the morning, but those that were here didn't utter a sound, a grave silence remembering those who didn't make it, and remembering those who did. After having seen Birkenau, I truly had a sense of awe and respect walking along these beaches thinking about my Grandpa and thanking him in my heart and soul for the things that he did for me. Grandpa, I don't think I could say it enough, you are my hero, thank you.
There were five beaches that were stormed on D-Day, June 30th, 1944. Omaha and Utah, which were stormed by the Americans; Gold and Sword which were stormed by the British; and Juno which was stormed by the Canadians. We didn't make it to see Utah or Gold, but the three we saw were enough to
satiate my need to understand. From Omaha we decided to go to the Normandy American Cemetary and Memorial where numerous American soldiers were laid to rest. I was not entirely shocked to see the way the cemetary was laid out as I've seen the cemetary at Fort Logan, but Della had never seen a war cemetary, which can be shocking to those who have never seen the rows upon rows of matching headstones lined up into the distance. It truly was humbling to see so many names from so many different states each with the same day of death. There were also a number of gravestones that read simply "Here Lies a Soldier Known but to God." These graves were the hardest to take in, soldiers who died without names... I can't even really imagine. It truly was an amazing experience to witness for myself this place that you read about and see so often in books and movies.
From the Cemetary we left Normandy and headed up the coast back to Calais where our ferry was to leave in just about nine hours. (We wanted to make sure that we had plenty of time to get there as
Juno Beach, Normandy, France
For our comrade in arms who have fallen may the blessing of the almighty God descend upon this spot and remain forever a chaplain, 29th Infantry Division June 1944. Della and I had a habit of getting lost.) The roadtrip was truly a memorable one, and it definitely helped me get a greater sense of self, plus I still had four weeks to spend in England!
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Mom
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Well said.
Isn't it amazing that current history taught in our American schools try to minimize this or forget it? Every American should try to visit these places you've seen and take it all in. Breathe in our history and rediscover how great America truly is and has been. God Bless America. Home of the Free and the Brave.