Return to Normandy Part 6

After a pleasant evening at an inn in the important D-Day town of Carentan, we begin our third and final day in Normandy by visiting Omaha Beach, the last place one would choose to make an assault. The beach at Omaha is as wide or wider than that at Utah and lies at the bottom of a very high bluff. The view from the top of the bluff is expansive and unobstructed. The parking lot for the memorial sits just above what the Allied commanders named Sector Charlie Dog Green. The small private museum located nearby is very interesting, with an excellent collection of World War II equipment, gear, and memorabilia, but we are inescapably drawn to the beach and the blufffs above.

We know what happened here, and we ache with the knowledge of it. Our ears can almost hear the withering fire that shredded the troops exposed when the Higgins boat gates went down. James has the urge to get in the water, fully dressed. His logical mind takes over. We walk the beach and pick up some stones to take home. The shingle (small stones) that were on the beach on D-Day are no longer here. It is a sand beach now. We are thankful the 552nd was at Utah and not Omaha.

As we leave Omaha, we see the tall spire of a church steeple at St. Laurent sur Mer, the village above the beach. Was this the steeple the commanders saw from the water, I ask myself? We proceed toward Pointe du Hoc and the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial, our final stop before leaving the Norman coast.

The American Cemetery is a beautiful and most fitting memorial to all those lost in the first weeks of the invasion. It was planned with great concern for every detail, including the kinds of material used, where those materials came from, the location of the graves with their uniform rows of white markers, the types of trees and their layout, the building designs, the overall orientation, and--perhaps, most of all--the inscriptions.

As we enter the small Visitor's Center, no larger than a home living room, we immediately sense the solemnity of our surroundings. We are on hallowed ground. People are talking quietly and respectfully. A letter from President Eisenhower hangs in a gold frame on the wall next to a painting of a pair of hands holding a Medal of Honor. His letter reads as follows:

The White House

Washington

July 7, 1956

To Those Who Participate in

The Dedication of St. Laurent

Twelve years ago on D-Day in Normandy, the

landings on the coast of France were the sym-

bol and the noble expression of Allied unity and

Allied determination in a great crusade. I

know it is a small consolation to the bereaved to

remember that the gallant men who are remem-

bered today gave their lives at one of the critical

moments in history. Yet the American soldiers

who rest forever near the beach-head they won,

and in the land they helped to free, will never be

forgotten.

Their memory will always help strengthen the

bonds of friendship between our countries, his-

toric allies for the cause of freedom.

/s/ Dwight D. Eisenhower

Return to Normandy 2001, Part 2

We've seen the photos of Caen--utter destruction. There are before and after photos, before the bombing of 1944 and after the bombing. More than 75% of all the buildings in Caen, 10,000 in all, were destroyed. Thankfully, the famed twin abbeys built by William the Conqueror and his queen Mathilda were spared the destruction much of the city suffered. We marvel in the light of the next day at the human spirit that would rebuild this city from the ashes and heaps of stone that our troops saw as they liberated the French people from the death grip of Hitler's Nazi war machine.

Caen lies on the banks of the Orne River, which was of strategic importance to the Allies. The success of the invasion required that bridges over the river and road and rail lines intersecting it come under the control of the invaders. As we cross the Orne, my thoughts turn to the men of the 552nd, and I wonder if the wet, green hills, the river filling its banks, the narrow street would look familiar to them today. Caen fades from view as we move northwest on the E-46 toward Bayeux (home of the famed Bayeux Tapestry depicting the Battle of Hastings) and the historic beaches.

Enroute and near St. Lo we encounter France's magnificent memorial to General Eisenhower. Yes, I know, we usually refer to dignitaries by their highest achieved rank--in his case President--but this memorial clearly is to the General Eisenhower, not the President Eisenhower. It is striking, sited at the center of a traffic circle, backgrounded by a classic arch and a small but tall stand of dark green trees. The General towers above you, at least ten feet tall, in full uniform--Eisenhower jacket, of course--and posed as though he is overlooking the field of battle, hands on hips. Our hearts swell with pride as we stand beside this towering bronze image.

In St. Lo I am overwhelmed with thoughts about the 552nd Anti-Aircraft Artillery Battalion. Daddy has mentioned St. Lo many times. Did they drive their trucks on this very road? I can almost see the convoy, olive drab, splattered with mud, the gun barrels pointed menacingly skyward, poised for the deadly aim of the gunner. The sky is gray, and the wind is cold. I feel the cool drizzle on my face and think of the men in the boats that stormy June day.

The stone wall of an ancient castle set on a high rock bluff rises on our right in the midst of the commercial district of St. Lo. A vacant flagstaff stands in front of a monument at the base of the bluff. We stop to investigate. It is a memorial to les victimes of the bombardment on June 6, 1944. War medals in bas-relief flank a sword and a shield depicting a rearing stallion. We cross another river and continue to read about the boys who became men on a foreign shore in that month of June. The verdant countryside with its steep, rolling hills and pastures delineated by hedgerows begins to give way to a plateau with fewer trees. We are nearing the sea.