France was the second leg of our journey across Europe. Our first stop was the town of Bayeux, which was our longest stay in a single place. A small quintessential French town, this community was liberated about five days after the Allies moved off the beaches at Normandy. We spent our time exploring the narrow, winding streets to discover both the food and the history that the town has to offer. There are monuments and plaques everywhere commemorating the rich history including that of the cathedral, the Roman wall, and the occupation throughout the war. The pace is sleepy and quiet like that of my own hometown, and yet it feels as though the buildings go on forever like that of a city.
The focus of our time in France was largely the D-Day landings on the coast of Normandy, which resulted in the liberation of France from Nazi occupation. The first beach we visited was Utah, which seems to have been relatively preserved over time. Omaha, however, now bears an abstract monument on the sands and vacation homes and souvenir shops on the shores. I felt an unexpected pang of irritation, as though it was a disrespect to what happened there. After thinking about this for almost a week now, I remind myself that the war has ended and life has gone on. People resettled and created a new, post-war normal that involves vacationing on what are clearly some beautiful shores. Pointe Du Hoc is a cliff overlooking the English Channel and is the highest point between the beaches of Utah and Omaha. The U.S. Army Ranger Assault group scaled the steep cliffs here and destroyed an area fortified by the German army with gun pits. The site stood out to me because it not only pays respect to the events it has seen, but it allows visitors to explore the bunkers the American GIs faced. You could still see the charred ceilings, and I distinctly remember a women quietly speaking to her husband about how the Nazi soldiers surely would have suffocated in these sealed rooms. It adds a very human aspect to all of the soldiers who were sent here, including those who were technically on the ”wrong side of the war.”
France still struggles with its identity as an occupied country during the war. 
Its people have been left to contend with not only those now recognized as the heroes of the Resistance, but collaborationists as well. Each museum we visited had its own take on how the collective memory of the occupation. At the Caen museum, efforts were made to highlight the resistance efforts while mitigating the role of the collaborators. I’ve found it is important to recognize that there were those who actively participated on either side, such as the Vichy government or the SOE, but there are those who were passive in their actions. By choosing not to act in certain situations, whether it be not denouncing a neighbor to the government or standing by as someone is wrongly accused, civilians all played a role.
The German cemetery as well as many of the French museums focus on peace. For Germany, it appears the intention is to both recognize the horrific tragedy the Nazi party inflicted upon Europe, as well as making sure it does not happen again. The display in the information center shares stories of the individual pain and suffering of those affected as soldiers as citizens of all creeds, as well as a demonstration of national programming that allows young men and women to ground their understanding of history in the place where it happened. French museums also bear a pro-peace sentiment through their imagery of the suffering born out of the occupation. There will always be a fear associated with another war, another fight on the homeland, another occupation.
The American cemetery sprawls as well, with thousands of white crosses interspersed with Stars of David. Families chose to allow their sons and daughters be buried here. The stones bear the name and rank, date of birth and death, and state of enlistment. There is li
ttle individuality—the cemetery is a monument to unity and sacrifice for country. The focus is on a whole image, not any particular individual. It is less a place of mourning for families and more about a monument to the American sacrifice to liberate France. When walking up, I was struck by the powerful message of the headstones. Each of those men and women gave their lives for their country, willingly or unintentionally. Together, they rest as a monument to the bravery of the United States.
The British cemetery felt smaller than the others despite an equal amount of sacrifice in the war. Headstones bear name, rank, messages from families, markers of their service, and more. It is yet another testament to the idea of the People’s War, with each headstone personalized to the man who gave his life for Queen and country. The cemetery itself is absolutely meant for the family to mourn the loss, with stones still surrounded by flowers and mementos. It is worth noting that there are many other stones here, including German, Polish
forces, Czech, Italian, Egyptian, and more. Some men are buried together; often flight crews who could not be separated in the wreckage or possibly upon family requests.
The German cemetery sprawled across a field overlooking the ocean. The stones were simple and uniform, bearing name, date of birth, and date of death. Many stones lacked this vital information, possibly a sign of the haste with which the bodies were being collected or the length of their stay before being collected. The place seems to be a penance, an offering representing apology for acting as the “evil,” despite many of these men not intentionally fighting for the Final Solution but a Greater Germany.