Out of all four countries on the trip, I definitely knew the least about Poland; I knew the nation was famous for its pierogis, but was a bit unsure of how they contributed to the war effort. Because Poland was not a major power during the war, rather a place of occupation, I did not know exactly what “box” Poland fit best into in my mind because it was neither an Axis or Allied Power. Our visit to Schindler’s Factory was very eye-opening to me because it forced the me to embark on the same journey as a typical Polish citizen during World War II and the postwar era. The museum was very well done in the sense that each room completely transported the visitor to a different war scene- even the ceilings were different in every room to fully complete each landscape- and no detail was left out. The number of displaced and enslaved Poles was staggering, and even though we discussed this in class, it took me being in the museum to fully grasp the gravity of the situation. I was also blissfully naïve to the fact that the Poles continued to suffer even after the war was over. I know that they did not technically “win” because they were not a part of the Allied powers, but considered the end of Nazi occupation to be a nice consolation prize. However, Soviet occupation, as shown in the museum, was hardly much better, so clearly the war did not end in 1945 for the Poles like it did for the United States.

The rest of Poland was actually very scenic and pretty. The square in the middle of Krakow was very picturesque with its old, beautiful buildings and numerous horse-drawn carriages. The atmosphere was bustling and lively as tourists and locals zigzagged from stand to stand in the markets. I also really enjoyed the Jewish sector of the city, a community that seemed to be very close and proud of their regrowth since the end of World War II. Finally, walking through the park was gorgeous, as there was lush greenery surrounding the pathway as far as our eyes could see and hip eateries and restaurants tucked just off the beaten path. The Poland I saw offered a sharp juxtaposition to the Poland that was occupied during World War II. The people were very friendly to us the entire time we were there, and were very happy to point us in the direction of good food and cheap drinks. Although the Poles were targeted and marginalized during World War II and the Cold War afterwards, it was nice to see that the nation was building itself back up and that old wounds seemed to be healing.

By the time we got to Paris, I had been in France for a week and had eaten about 150 cheese sandwiches. Bayeux had proven to be a lot different than I expected- the pace of the city was very slow, almost everyone went to bed at 10:30, and there was not a ton of variety between the three streets we had access to. Bayeux also allowed for a lot of down time in the evenings, which was both good and bad, but as a result, the group became a lot closer and we had a lot of fun just relaxing, talking by the pool, and playing cards. However, after 6 full days, I was excited to get to Paris for a change of scenery.

As we drove into Paris, it was easy for me to see why it is such a popular tourist destination. The buildings were beautiful- intricately carved and tall- and there were tons of historic places to see within each square mile. There were statues and monuments every couple of feet, it seemed, and the city looked very scenic with the Seine running casually through it. The Notre Dame Cathedral was as impressive in person as it looked in pictures, the pop-up book shops on the river’s bank were quaint, and the weather was beautiful. I also enjoyed the variety of food, easy transportation system, and bustling atmosphere that was absent in Bayeux. However, the language barrier was difficult at times, because less people than I expected spoke English.

With a slow start to my free day, I only managed to check a few things off my Paris bucket list. I visited the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa, walked around the surrounding courtyard, and that night a group of us went down to see the Eiffel Tower. It was breathtaking. It was both impressive from afar, and from practically underneath it. I didn’t realize just how massive it was, but standing at the base trying to fit the whole thing into one picture quickly put its sheer size into perspective. I had dreamed of seeing the Eiffel Tower since I was about 10 years old, and it did not disappoint. As the sun set and we all sat in the lawn, talking, laughing, and sipping champagne, we were all in awe as the Eiffel Tower lit up and started glittering.

Although the Eiffel Tower was hard to top, my favorite part of France was visiting the Shakespeare and Company bookstore. I knew of its history before the trip, but after Patrick’s speech, was much more informed and impressed by Sylvia Beech. The bookstore seemed right out of any child’s fantasy, with hundreds of books lining each shelf, crammed every which way to take up as little space as possible, so that more books could fit in every square inch of each bookcase. With a staircase winding around a corner, leading upstairs to more books and ladders propped up against shelves to reach all of the books near the ceiling, the place seemed absolutely magical. I could see right away how the likes of Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Stein and so many others were inspired to create and tell stories.

In Bayeux, we visited three different cemeteries commemorating the soldiers that had fought and lost their lives during World War II. I noticed a lot of similarities between the American and British sites; both featured bright white, standing graves, beautiful flowers, and clean kept landscape. I felt that both cemeteries conveyed the pride that each nation felt for their soldiers’ sacrifices and assistance in defeating the Axis Powers. Although both burial grounds were very solemn and moving, I felt a bit of underlying positivity in the air as I walked through the graves, because it is easy to see how each sacrifice directly contributed to the protection of democracy and religious freedom throughout Europe.

The German cemetery provided a stark contrast, as all of the graves were black and lying flat on the ground. Many of the graves did not identify specific men and instead just referred to a number of bodies buried underneath the ground, and almost all the gravestones marked the remains of multiple soldiers. I was also unaware of the meaning of the 5 raised crosses that were seen scattered sporadically throughout the cemetery, which also emphasized a kind of haphazard construction that contrasted with the careful planning of the British and American cemeteries. To me, the cemetery seemed to try to acknowledge the mistakes of a nation, while still paying respect to the individual men that had given the ultimate sacrifice for their country. It was as if Germany was still taking responsibility for their wrongdoing, of a nation still filled with quiet shame and regret.  However, regardless of what the German soldiers were fighting for, there is still honor in being willing to die for a cause, one’s country, or even just the men in your unit, which was captured in the cemetery.

Regardless of the differences between the American, British, and German cemeteries, each one successfully conveyed the effects of the harsh realities of war. I became much more aware of the fact that each soldier that died was someone’s son, brother, husband, nephew, etc. I think it is very easy, especially as an American that has not witnessed any fighting on my country’s soil, to grow desensitized to the staggering numbers. However, it became much more real as I stood in front of each grave, noticing how some, even after all these years, still had fresh flowers from mourning relatives and loved ones. Before Bayeux, World War II seemed finite, an event in the far past, but as I stood in the craters at Point du Hoc and on the Omaha and Utah beaches, I was confronted with the uncomfortable reality that Europe still has a lot of healing to do.