Where: Haute-Normandie, France
When: July 16 - 19, 2013
With: Dave and family
The main focus of our trip to France was to explore the region of Normandy. This relatively small province has carried quite a lot of history since earning its fame as the birthplace to the future king of England, William the Conqueror. However, in modern day, the name Normandy usually evokes images of the largest seaborne invasion in history: D-Day.
On June 6, 1944, American, British and Canadian forces (the three big hitters of the "Allies") set out by sea and air from the southern coast of England. In the early morning hours, they took the Nazi forces occupying France completely by surprise. The Allied casualties from the invasion were heavy (at least 12,000 injured and between 4,000-9,000 dead), but the impact was huge and served as a turning point in World War II, which ended less than a year later. The five beaches that served as the targets for landing, code names Utah, Omaha, Gold, Juno, and Sword, will forever hold an important place in history.
While waiting to take the train from Reims after touring Champagne, we were able to kick off our World War II tour before we even arrived in the region. In this town sits the former schoolhouse that the Allied forces used as their headquarters during the war. It was in this room that the Nazis surrendered unconditionally on May 7, 1945 by the signing of a treaty. Normally, you can go in and see the room, but it was unfortunately closed for the day. Nevertheless, it set the tone for the next couple of days.
We took the train back to Paris and switched to another train heading to Caen, an old city right in the heart of Normandy. Even though Caen has a rich history that goes back centuries, there aren't many sites to see as 70% of the city was destroyed by the Allies during the war. Yes, that's right, by the Allies. Caen was a strategically important city held by the Nazis, and in order to secure it, British forces launched an air raid. Pamphlets were dropped to the citizens to warn them of the impending bombs, but they missed their target and very few people were warned. Nearly 2,000 French citizens were killed and the city was reduced to rubble.
Bayeux is home to a cathedral that was partially constructed by William the Conqueror's half-brother. Consecrated in 1077, it used to house the Bayeux tapestry, an elaborate, 70m cross-stitched piece of muslin depicting how William the Conqueror became the king of England. While the tapestry no longer sits in the cathedral, you can view it across the road.
In the summer, the cathedral is host to an evening light show. The colored lights projected accentuate its intricate exterior in a magical way.
The entrance to this cemetery was stark, marked by a single doorway. This was meant to represent that when you die, you must enter the afterlife alone.
Our next stop was at the town of St. Mère-Église. This was the main dropping point for the 82nd Airborne division of paratroopers in the early morning hours of D-Day. It's location on a main highway through Normandy made it a critical objective. Ironically, on the night of the invasion, the town was on fire. While the villagers attempted to put it out (using the water pump that still sits in the church courtyard), they were under close supervision of the occupying Nazi forces. Against the backdrop of the flames, the Nazis suddenly noticed that the sky was speckled with thousands of tiny, white spots. Quite the entrance for the paratroopers. It completely ruined the element of surprise! The poor guys slowly floating to the ground were like sitting ducks for the Nazis and several men lost their lives before they even landed.
The church that gives the town its name also provides one of the more iconic sights of the paratrooper invasion. John Steele was a paratrooper whose parachute got caught on the church steeple on his way in. Injured in the leg, he feigned dead for hours so that the Nazis would not shoot him. He was eventually taken prisoner, escaped, and went on to help liberate the village. A stone statue depicting him and his trapped parachute now permanently hangs from the steeple. The movie The Longest Day, which depicts the D-Day invasion from several points of view, includes this story line.
Even the inside of the old church shows the impact the war had. The stained glass that was (understandably) destroyed has been replaced. But what makes it fascinating is what replaced it - stained glass representations of the Virgin Mary and Archangel Michael alongside Allied paratroopers and US Army insignias. A bold move to put mortal men beside the big shots of Christianity, but it serves as a testament as to the gratefulness of the French Normans.
The main museum is built to look like a giant parachute and houses tons of memorabilia, including the gliders and planes from which several of the men jumped.
The low tide allows you to see how things looked at the time of the invasion. The Nazis littered the waters with all kinds of shrapnel meant to protect them from an attack by sea. Therefore, the Allies were sure to come in at low tide, when all those traps would be revealed by the receding waters. However, that made the journey from the edge of the water to the front line a very long one. One that was filled with a barrage of Nazi bullets the whole way.
The grassy dunes behind the beach had more preserved bunkers as well as some trenches. It was amazing how intricately laid out and hidden it all was.
There is a large museum at the beach dedicated to the invasion. There's just so many museums here, it's hard to visit them all!
Several memorials stand around the edge of the beach, commemorating the men and divisions that were there that day. It is estimated that only 200 of the 32,000 men that landed on this beach were killed (thanks to the miscalculation I mentioned before). While the number is small in comparison to the lives lost throughout the war, it in no way minimalises their bravery and valour.
Then it's time to pass all the statues and step out onto the real memorial, the beach. It's kind of a serene feeling that takes over. On that hot, sunny day with the wind peacefully rustling all the grass on the sand dunes, it's hard to imagine the horrors that took place here all those years ago.
I couldn't even begin to imagine, as hard as I tried, what it would have been like running up this beach with the Nazi army unleashing all their artillery on me. I can't imagine what went through their heads. Most men probably didn't think about the cause or the greater good. I'd imagine they'd be thinking on a much smaller scale: keeping themselves alive and keeping their buddies alive. It's something I can't even fathom.
When the troops invaded, two Nazi soldiers hid in the confession box. A sneeze gave away their position and they were shot through the door. The bullet holes still remain.
Our next stop was Pointe du Hoc. A Nazi occupied clifftop that jutted out into the sea, this provided an excellent viewpoint and was therefore, an important target for the Allied soldiers.
The landscape was just as fascinating as the buildings it held. Giant craters covered the entire area like the surface of the moon. As one would expect, these were leftover holes from the Allied barrage of bombs. The deep, circular craters came from the air, and the long, shallow craters came from the sea.
Few of the tunnels used by the Nazis to get from one bunker to another remain, but one gave an indication of the sophistication of this site.
Behind this statue is a long wall with the names of all the missing soldiers etched into it.
We were fortunate enough to have arrived at the end of the day when the American flags flying over the cemetery are taken down by veterans. A lone bugler plays Taps as the former soldiers solemnly fold the flag and salute it.
When the second American flag was lowered for the day, I was moved by the group of 8-year old British boys who all paused in their exploration of the cemetery, removed their hats, and stood in silence as the flag was lowered.
To attempt to read the names of even 1% of the soldiers who are buried here would take hours. However, I couldn't help but feel like it was demonstrating a sense of respect by taking photos of a few names. It felt as though just reading the name on the stone showed the soldier that his death was not in vain and that he was not forgotten.
After visiting this cemetery, I know this sounds strange but I was sad I didn't know anyone there. While I clearly wouldn't want any of my family members to have died in Normandy, there was a part of me that wanted to honor someone, to pay my respects to a specific individual, and say thank you from the bottom of my heart for their ultimate sacrifice.
My grandfather did fight in World War II, and while he was not involved in D-Day, I called my mom to get any information I could about where he fought. While speaking to her, my Uncle Joe shouted from the background that his cousin had died on D-Day. He got on the phone and gave me a name. Frederick "Freddie" Graf from New Jersey was involved in the invasion and had died shortly thereafter. I went on a search.
Luckily, the American Battle Monuments Commission keeps excellent online records of their cemeteries. I was almost instantaneously able to locate Freddie's grave on their site. Uncle Joe said that Freddie's family had never been able to go over to France to see his grave and pay their respects. Thankfully, Dave's family was more than happy to take a second trip back to the cemetery so we could be the first people in 70 years to lay flowers down on Freddie's grave and say thank you.
Upon entering the visitor's center early in the morning, we were greeted with an especially warm welcome after the staff saw the flowers in my arms. There were touch-screens set up all over the center allowing you to type in the name of a fallen soldier. His plot number would then be shown, along with any information the center had on him. This is what was available for Freddie. Based on this and some additional research I've done, his regiment was in the first wave on Omaha Beach and was responsible for securing a route to allow vehicles inland. They suffered heavy losses, though it appears Freddie made it through, as he died 10 days after the invasion.
We each silently said our own words in his honor. The cemetery was quiet save for the ocean. As we stood there, distant church bells began to chime out the Star Spangled Banner. It was one of the single most moving experiences of my entire life. Afterwards, as I knelt to lay the flowers down on his grave, a lone bugler came out of nowhere to begin playing Taps. It was incredible. It also made me realize that while we may have been the first people to lay flowers on Freddie's grave, he was truly honored every single day, laying there among his fallen brothers with those songs playing for him. I couldn't have been happier to have had the honor to visit him on behalf of his family and let him know that his efforts were not forgotten.
We had two more stops on our World War II tour of Normandy. The first was at another German cemetery. This brought to light what our tour guide said on our first day: how very different each of these cemeteries were. This one was more mausoleum than graveyard and had a completely different setting to the previous one.
Unlike the previous beaches we had visited, this one still had prominent remnants of the war left in the waters. The makeshift harbour built from sunken battleships still encircle the shoreline.
These few days in Normandy were some of best I have ever had on a trip. I have never been so incredibly moved by any other location in the world. The appreciation of the Norman French for the Allied efforts that day are so heart-warming and their willingness to display that appreciation is amazing. It makes me appreciate that what we have in the world right now is due to the efforts of the men who died, not just on D-Day, but in that war, fighting for what was right. I am able to live in London and visit these sites without fear because of these men. I am able to have friends of all religions and backgrounds because of their bravery. And I have people like Teddy and Freddie to thank for that. So thank you both and to all, I will never forget.
When: July 16 - 19, 2013
With: Dave and family
The main focus of our trip to France was to explore the region of Normandy. This relatively small province has carried quite a lot of history since earning its fame as the birthplace to the future king of England, William the Conqueror. However, in modern day, the name Normandy usually evokes images of the largest seaborne invasion in history: D-Day.
On June 6, 1944, American, British and Canadian forces (the three big hitters of the "Allies") set out by sea and air from the southern coast of England. In the early morning hours, they took the Nazi forces occupying France completely by surprise. The Allied casualties from the invasion were heavy (at least 12,000 injured and between 4,000-9,000 dead), but the impact was huge and served as a turning point in World War II, which ended less than a year later. The five beaches that served as the targets for landing, code names Utah, Omaha, Gold, Juno, and Sword, will forever hold an important place in history.
While waiting to take the train from Reims after touring Champagne, we were able to kick off our World War II tour before we even arrived in the region. In this town sits the former schoolhouse that the Allied forces used as their headquarters during the war. It was in this room that the Nazis surrendered unconditionally on May 7, 1945 by the signing of a treaty. Normally, you can go in and see the room, but it was unfortunately closed for the day. Nevertheless, it set the tone for the next couple of days.
The main site to see in Caen is the Mémorial de Caen, a museum commemorating World War II and the Battle for Caen. It was huge and comprehensive, and it would have taken hours to see it all. It's regarded as THE museum for World War II.
The biggest exhibit in the museum is dedicated to the D-Day invasion which occurred just a few miles north. The museum had amazing photos from the war, as well as a giant map that laid out how the each of the American, British and Canadian troops crossed the English Channel to invade France.
Artifacts and timetables of that famous day were laid out among recreated ruins of Caen.
Once finished at the museum, we drove off to the town that would serve as our home base during our time in Normandy. The town of Bayeux survived World War II nearly untouched as most of the focus from both sides was directed on Caen. Now, you can still see the medieval structures that have formed this town for nearly 1,000 years.
Bayeux is home to a cathedral that was partially constructed by William the Conqueror's half-brother. Consecrated in 1077, it used to house the Bayeux tapestry, an elaborate, 70m cross-stitched piece of muslin depicting how William the Conqueror became the king of England. While the tapestry no longer sits in the cathedral, you can view it across the road.
In the summer, the cathedral is host to an evening light show. The colored lights projected accentuate its intricate exterior in a magical way.
This looked like that scene from Lord of the Rings. You just need Gandalf to say "speak friend and enter".
In order to gain the most out of our time, we hired a tour guide to take us through the area. Her story ended up being amazing. She was born in Normandy on July 31, 1944, just under two months after the D-Day invasion. An American soldier found her mother 8 months among the ruins of her farm house. He brought her and the rest of the family to safety, which in turn, helped secure our guide's safe arrival into the world. Her father was a member of the French Resistance and was held prisoner by the Nazis for a portion of the war. She grew up on the D-Day beaches, using abandoned Nazi bunkers as her playground. She remembers playing in the rivers by her home and finding washed up helmets and dog tags for years after the war ended. Her stories were fascinating, and she shared it in parts throughout the day.
The first place she took us to was, oddly, a German cemetery, La Cambe. I hadn't even thought it was a possibility that the Nazi soldiers would get their own plot of land, let alone in Normandy, given the nature of why they had died there in the first place. However, the French government had let bygones be bygones and allowed the German government to bury the dead.
The graves were marked by either a dark, rough cross or a flat marker. The crosses were grouped in fives as far as the eye could see. Some of the plots held 2-3 bodies underneath. The ages of most of the plots we saw were 18 and under. There were over 21,000 men buried here.
In the center of the cemetery was a large hill. This contains hundreds of unidentified remains.
I wasn't entirely sure what to think about this place. I'm glad I saw it, but I can't say it sat well with me. However, I was very surprised by how the majority of the buried bodies were practically teenage boys.
Our next stop was at the town of St. Mère-Église. This was the main dropping point for the 82nd Airborne division of paratroopers in the early morning hours of D-Day. It's location on a main highway through Normandy made it a critical objective. Ironically, on the night of the invasion, the town was on fire. While the villagers attempted to put it out (using the water pump that still sits in the church courtyard), they were under close supervision of the occupying Nazi forces. Against the backdrop of the flames, the Nazis suddenly noticed that the sky was speckled with thousands of tiny, white spots. Quite the entrance for the paratroopers. It completely ruined the element of surprise! The poor guys slowly floating to the ground were like sitting ducks for the Nazis and several men lost their lives before they even landed.
The church that gives the town its name also provides one of the more iconic sights of the paratrooper invasion. John Steele was a paratrooper whose parachute got caught on the church steeple on his way in. Injured in the leg, he feigned dead for hours so that the Nazis would not shoot him. He was eventually taken prisoner, escaped, and went on to help liberate the village. A stone statue depicting him and his trapped parachute now permanently hangs from the steeple. The movie The Longest Day, which depicts the D-Day invasion from several points of view, includes this story line.
One thing the town did really well was demonstrate how little has changed since the war. Several photos were on display in the same place they were taken 70 years ago. It made it easy to compare the "then" and "now".
The inside of the church was the scene of a battle as well, with bullet holes still marking some of the structure.
The surrounding town also continues to show bullet holes and remnants of battle.
This town also continues to show a tremendous amount of thanks and support to the Americans, English, and Canadians for their liberation. In what we'd soon find to be the theme of Normany, this region of France makes it a serious point to not forget the men who died to free them. It was really inspiring to see that many streets were decorated with banners of each country's flag.
On the spot where the infamous burning house once stood is now a museum dedicated to the Allied paratroopers.
The main museum is built to look like a giant parachute and houses tons of memorabilia, including the gliders and planes from which several of the men jumped.
When we finished at the museum, it was time to head north for the shores to start seeing some of the beaches. While the first beach we saw had several Nazi war bunkers, it was ironically was not a landing beach. This was originally targeted as Utah Beach; however due to a miscalculation, the landing took place 3 miles east. It's a good thing this happened though as this beach ended up much more heavily guarded and would have cost many more lives to take.
The low tide allows you to see how things looked at the time of the invasion. The Nazis littered the waters with all kinds of shrapnel meant to protect them from an attack by sea. Therefore, the Allies were sure to come in at low tide, when all those traps would be revealed by the receding waters. However, that made the journey from the edge of the water to the front line a very long one. One that was filled with a barrage of Nazi bullets the whole way.
The bunkers on this beach were incredibly well-preserved, giving a clear idea of how the Nazis positioned themselves. The bunkers were always on a diagonal to shoreline, allowing the gunners to see and shoot up the entire length of the beach.
The grassy dunes behind the beach had more preserved bunkers as well as some trenches. It was amazing how intricately laid out and hidden it all was.
We then took a quick inland detour to get a glimpse of one of the biggest enemies to the Allies. Capable of shooting at distances of 15 miles, the Nazis were able to hit battleships out at sea from safe positions inland. This gun was huge! And when you saw how far it sat from the shoreline, you appreciated how much power it must have had!
Located next to this was another Nazi bunker. This one was a bit more intricate. The window on the bottom left would have had a big, old gun pointing at any intruders who came too close.
A single airhole on top of the bunker (convenient size for a grenade).
Another really poignant thing about the region of Normandy is how they have now chosen to name their roads. Streets have been renamed after fallen Allied soldiers. Their memorial street signs can be seen all across the countryside.
Finally, it was time to visit the first actual landing beach, Utah. One of the first buildings we saw as we approached seemed new and modern and touristy. However, it was here on D-Day and served as a headquarters for Nazi communications. Ironically, it is now an Internet Cafe (an interesting turn in objective). One famous D-Day photo shows troops sitting up against the same building.
There is a large museum at the beach dedicated to the invasion. There's just so many museums here, it's hard to visit them all!
Throughout Normandy, these km markers were set up to show the "Route to Liberty" taken by the Allied forces. Utah Beach marked the 00km mark, as this was where it all began.
Several memorials stand around the edge of the beach, commemorating the men and divisions that were there that day. It is estimated that only 200 of the 32,000 men that landed on this beach were killed (thanks to the miscalculation I mentioned before). While the number is small in comparison to the lives lost throughout the war, it in no way minimalises their bravery and valour.
Then it's time to pass all the statues and step out onto the real memorial, the beach. It's kind of a serene feeling that takes over. On that hot, sunny day with the wind peacefully rustling all the grass on the sand dunes, it's hard to imagine the horrors that took place here all those years ago.
I couldn't even begin to imagine, as hard as I tried, what it would have been like running up this beach with the Nazi army unleashing all their artillery on me. I can't imagine what went through their heads. Most men probably didn't think about the cause or the greater good. I'd imagine they'd be thinking on a much smaller scale: keeping themselves alive and keeping their buddies alive. It's something I can't even fathom.
As I said earlier, the Utah beach landing was meant to happen a bit further west. One of the first men off his landing boat to realize this was the man leading the Utah Beach invasion, none other than the eldest son of former president Teddy Roosevelt, Teddy Roosevelt Jr. Raised and groomed for a life in the military by his patriotic father, he put aside his age (59 years), physical ailments (arthritis and a heart condition), and a successful career in business to join the war effort. On D-Day, he insisted on being in the first wave of the attack despite knowing just how unfavorable his odds of survival were. When preparing for the invasion, all the troops were provided with photos and maps of the area to familiarise themselves with the terrain they'd be invading. He immediately recognised that they had landed in the wrong spot based on the position of this house in the distance (it should have been on the left, not the right). However, walking on his cane and carrying only a pistol, he performed reconnaissance, identified a new plan of attack and famously proclaimed "We'll start the war from right here!"
As we left the beach, we observed another interesting fact about the towns that survived D-Day. As most of them were in complete ruins following the war, they rebuilt with whatever they could find. The result is that several of the structures around the area have been made with leftover materials from the war.
Our next couple of stops were short and sweet. We saw the famous Norman hedgerows that line the land, preventing clear views and providing quite the obstacles for the Allied men and their tanks. We visited a monument dedicated to Richard Winters, who parachuted in with the 101st Airborne division (as depicted in the series "Band of Brothers"). He only agreed that the memorial be built in his honor (a year after his death) if the names of the men who died under his command were listed underneath it.
We visited another small town that was decked out to the nines in American, Canadian and British flags.
This town had a church where mass was held for troops shortly after the invasion.
When the troops invaded, two Nazi soldiers hid in the confession box. A sneeze gave away their position and they were shot through the door. The bullet holes still remain.
I thought this was a fascinating story, posted next to the church.
Our next stop was Pointe du Hoc. A Nazi occupied clifftop that jutted out into the sea, this provided an excellent viewpoint and was therefore, an important target for the Allied soldiers.
The Nazi bunkers at this place were incredibly well-maintained, allowing you to explore their stronghold and living quarters. Some even retain the char-marks of what we can only assume were flame throwers (though I heard one idiot of a teenager say "Flame throwers? I don't think they were allowed in World War II...")
Few of the tunnels used by the Nazis to get from one bunker to another remain, but one gave an indication of the sophistication of this site.
Apparently, the lookout point from this location would have served as the first spot where the invasion would have been seen. The movie The Longest Day has a famous scene where the Nazi commander in charge of this lookout reported into headquarters that it was a quiet day just minutes before the battleships appeared on the horizon. Fail.
A memorial now stands at the very end of this point for Lieutenant Colonel James Earl Rudder. He led an Army Ranger division to capture Pointe du Hoc by literally scaling the steep cliffs. Their objective was to destroy the long-range guns that sat here within range of soldiers at both Utah and Omaha beach. Upon arriving, they realized that the guns had been moved to safer locations (a fact missed due to the poor weather conditions in the days leading up to the invasion). Regardless, the men were able to locate and destroy five of the six guns, though they suffered tremendous casualties under heavy Nazi attack and cut-off from reinforcements. After two days, less than 20% of the men who set out to climb Pointe du Hoc were still alive and able to fight.
The next stop was the place we'd all been waiting for: Omaha Beach. Little remains of the Nazi's stronghold on this small section of shoreline, but as it was the most deadly of all the invasions, this beach strikes quite the chord with most Americans. Now, it is oddly a huge beach resort, ladened with sunbathing Europeans clad in their speedos and no trace of the men who died here.
Pointe du Hoc, from a distance. You can see why it was imperative to take out the long-range guns.
The tide was high by the time we arrived, but on the morning of June 6, 1944, it would have been way out, revealing the several means of defence set up by the Nazis.
Looking at old photos is the only way to even begin to imagine the horrors of this place. Our guide told us that WWII veterans are usually deeply disturbed by what a resort the beach has become. Her response? The men that gave their lives here did so to allow people to do what they are doing here today: enjoying life.
One lone gun in a bunker and one memorial are the only tangible reminders of what happened here.
It was time for our final stop of the day, the American cemetery at Colleville-sur-Mer. This is the main cemetery for American troops that were killed during and shortly after the invasion. Almost 10,000 brave men (and a couple women) are buried here. The poem at the beginning, advising visitors to hold back their tears, proved to be nearly impossible to abide by.
The grounds were designed by an American landscape architect. It felt like being in a forest back home. Whatever that guy did, he definitely made it feel like America.
After entering the grounds, a large reflecting pool sits at the front of the cemetery.
At the top of the pool is a large memorial containing several monuments commemorating different things. The most poignant is the giant bronze statue called The Spirit of American Youth Rising From the Waves. Given the very low average age of the men who were buried here, this was an appropriate and moving statue.
Behind this statue is a long wall with the names of all the missing soldiers etched into it.
A set of brothers, sadly etched into this wall.
We were fortunate enough to have arrived at the end of the day when the American flags flying over the cemetery are taken down by veterans. A lone bugler plays Taps as the former soldiers solemnly fold the flag and salute it.
When the second American flag was lowered for the day, I was moved by the group of 8-year old British boys who all paused in their exploration of the cemetery, removed their hats, and stood in silence as the flag was lowered.
After passing the flag staffs, I allowed my eyes to drift over the endless grave markers. Thousands of white stone crosses and Stars of David sit aligned in perfect precision in every direction. It was overwhelming and the tears were already streaming down my face.
To attempt to read the names of even 1% of the soldiers who are buried here would take hours. However, I couldn't help but feel like it was demonstrating a sense of respect by taking photos of a few names. It felt as though just reading the name on the stone showed the soldier that his death was not in vain and that he was not forgotten.
Several of the graves were marked with this, indicating that he was not identifiable.
Each grave faces west so that the soldiers my eternally "face home" to America. The setting sun made the white marble gleam brilliantly.
More graves than I expected had photos and flowers left on them. While some of these may have come from family members, we learned later that they may have come from the French themselves. The "Flowers of Memory" program encourages French families to sponsor an American grave to give thanks for the sacrifice that was made, particularly if his family cannot come over very often any longer. This sponsorship must be passed down from generation to generation to ensure that no one ever forgets why they are free. Our guide's soldier had the surname of Norton and was from New Jersey. While we explored the cemetery, she went to have a chat with him.
Further on in the cemetery, we came upon a roped off section of graves. The most prominent one belonged to Teddy Roosevelt Jr. A few days after leading the invasion of Utah Beach successfully, Teddy's heart gave out and he died in St. Mère-Église. His popularity among his men spawned so many visitors that the plot needed to be cordoned off to prevent complete deterioration of the grass in front of his grave. His brother's body lays beside him after being exhumed from a World War I graveyard in another part of France. They make up one of the 33 pairs of brothers that lay here, though he's the only World War I vet in the cemetery.
Another famous set of brothers that rest here are the Nilands. Preston and Robert both died in the D-Day invasions and their other brother Edward was presumed dead in Burma. The fourth brother, Frederick "Fritz" Niland, had parachuted in behind enemy lines and the US decided they needed to get him home to their mother before she lost her fourth son. Sound like a familiar plot line? That's because these boys from western New York inspired the movie Saving Private Ryan. Fritz was eventually sent home and Edward was found to be alive, but in a Japanese POW camp. Their two brothers lay beside each other in this cemetery where they are recognized and honored by almost every tour group passing through.
In the middle of the cemetery stands a chapel. Inside this Greek temple of a structure is a very moving mosaic. On one side, America is depicted as an angel guiding a soldier to the shores of France while the other side shows France depicted as an angel embracing a dead soldier. The quotes on the walls of this rotunda were moving.
At the far end of the cemetery stand two more statues.
Alongside the entire cemetery lies the English Channel, a stark reminder of where many of these men lost their lives.
My grandfather did fight in World War II, and while he was not involved in D-Day, I called my mom to get any information I could about where he fought. While speaking to her, my Uncle Joe shouted from the background that his cousin had died on D-Day. He got on the phone and gave me a name. Frederick "Freddie" Graf from New Jersey was involved in the invasion and had died shortly thereafter. I went on a search.
Luckily, the American Battle Monuments Commission keeps excellent online records of their cemeteries. I was almost instantaneously able to locate Freddie's grave on their site. Uncle Joe said that Freddie's family had never been able to go over to France to see his grave and pay their respects. Thankfully, Dave's family was more than happy to take a second trip back to the cemetery so we could be the first people in 70 years to lay flowers down on Freddie's grave and say thank you.
Upon entering the visitor's center early in the morning, we were greeted with an especially warm welcome after the staff saw the flowers in my arms. There were touch-screens set up all over the center allowing you to type in the name of a fallen soldier. His plot number would then be shown, along with any information the center had on him. This is what was available for Freddie. Based on this and some additional research I've done, his regiment was in the first wave on Omaha Beach and was responsible for securing a route to allow vehicles inland. They suffered heavy losses, though it appears Freddie made it through, as he died 10 days after the invasion.
Walking towards the grave plot in the early morning hours, the cemetery was empty. The only people around were the groundskeepers, who hurriedly and respectfully moved away as we approached.
We tracked down Freddie's grave: Plot H, Row 27, Grave 36. Upon seeing it, we were happy to see that he had one of the best spots in the cemetery, right on the edge (aisle seat) and closest to the ocean where the sound of the waves crashing against the shore could constantly be heard. It was so peaceful.
Around a center courtyard stood a two story circular site, with several rooms housing the 12,000 soldiers that are here. Wreathes hung on several of the graves, along with fresh flowers. More so than last time, it was amazing to see how many of the people who were buried here were just teenagers.
Our final stop on the World War II tour-de-Normandy was in the small town of Arromanches. This was Gold Beach, one of two beaches where the British forces landed during the invasion.
Unlike the previous beaches we had visited, this one still had prominent remnants of the war left in the waters. The makeshift harbour built from sunken battleships still encircle the shoreline.
In a feat of British engineering, this semi-circle harbor was able to withstand pelting storms on the coast line, allowing it to stand through the invasion and to this day.
As we climbed the hill of Arromanches, a military helicopter went shooting past. It again forced you to take a moment to think about what it would have been like here on that infamous day.
At the top of the hill was a small musuem containing an incredibly powerful movie about the D-Day invasion. This moving film provided the perfect summary to all we had seen during our days in Normandy and left us feeling an incredible sense of pride in our country.
These few days in Normandy were some of best I have ever had on a trip. I have never been so incredibly moved by any other location in the world. The appreciation of the Norman French for the Allied efforts that day are so heart-warming and their willingness to display that appreciation is amazing. It makes me appreciate that what we have in the world right now is due to the efforts of the men who died, not just on D-Day, but in that war, fighting for what was right. I am able to live in London and visit these sites without fear because of these men. I am able to have friends of all religions and backgrounds because of their bravery. And I have people like Teddy and Freddie to thank for that. So thank you both and to all, I will never forget.
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