We arrived to France by ferry. The first day we settled into the hotel. It had been a long day, and after being away from home for a week Brittany Habbart, Chris Herrel and I were craving American food. So, we went to the one place I never go to at home – McDonalds. It never tasted so good.
The next day we visited the Museum of War and Peace. This museum commemorates World War II and the Battle for Caen. It is dedicated to the history of violence and conflict in the 20th century. The museum opened on 6 June 1988, the 44th anniversary of D-Day. The thing I noticed most about this museum compared to other museums I have visited is that it consist of much more reading. I thoroughly appreciated the information given. Instead of having a simple excerpt pertaining to a piece in front of you, the museum was organized in chronological order providing the main details of the war.
Our next stop was Pegasus Bridge. Pegasus Bridge, originally referred to as the Benouville Bridge, was built in 1934 across the Caen Canal. In World War Two control of the bridge was the objective of Operation Deadstick. This operation was in preparation for the Allied invasion of Normandy. Control of the bridge was imperative in limiting the effectiveness of a Germany counter-attack following the Allied invasion. The bridge was renamed in honor of the soldiers who captured it. Today, a replica stands in its place, while the original bridge is now displayed in a museum.
As we made our way to Utah Beach we made a stop at the Statue of Major R.D. Winters. Winters was a solider of the United States Army. He commanded Easy Company of the 2nd Battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, part of the 101st Airborne Division during WWII. Easy Company parachuted into Normandy early in the morning on D-Day, June 6th, 1944. Their objective was to capture the entrances to and clear any obstacles around the route selected for Allied forces. Immediately issues arose. Winters and his men landed without a single weapon. Easy Company were using British designed leg packs, which held their belongings and weapons. As soon as Easy Company jumped the packs were torn away. Easy Company landed completely unarmed. Even so, Winter’s and his company charged on, securing the way.

Utah Beach

Utah Beach was the code name for one of the five areas where the Allies invaded German-occupied France on D-Day. It is located on the Cotentin Peninsula. Amphibious landings were undertaken by the United States Army, with support of the United States Navy. The objective was to secure the beachhead, the location of the vital port of Cherbourg. We spent some time at the Musee du Debrquement de Utah Beach. This museum detailed and highlighted some of the important parts of the Normandy invasion at Utah. Throughout the museum were some personal articles, such as letters, from soldiers displayed. Personal items are always my favorite. Most of these men and women fell in combat. I think reading there personal letters is the closest we could ever come to the mindset of the men and women who gave their lives. It’s incredibly humbling.
We made a quick stop at St. Mere Eglise. It’s a small town that witnessed some of the first fighting after the D-Day invasion. It was one of the first towns to be liberated. While in town we made a stop at the Musée Airborne. This museum is dedicated to the memory of American paratroopers of the 82nd and 101st airborne divisions who parachuted into Normandy on the night of June 5th and 6th of 1944.
We ventured on to Angeoville au Plain Church. This church was used by 2 US Army Medics, Robert White (a fellow buckeye) and Ken Moore of the 101st Airborne, as an aide station during the Battle of Normandy. White and Moore treated 80 injured soldiers, American and German. The story behind this little church is amazing. Two men came together and saved the lives of not just their comrades, but their enemies. To them the injured were not G.I.s and Nazis, but simply men in need of help. Robert White survived the war and passed on some years ago. Half of his ashes are buried on the church grounds, the other half back home.

St. Mere Eglise

Our last stop of the day was the German cemetery. This cemetery contains roughly 21,000 German military personnel of World War II. As staggering as that number is, it is not the only Germany cemetery of WWII causalities. The cemetery, as all are, was sad. The layout of the cemetery, together with the dark grave stones and simplicity, made the experience harrowing. Seeing grave stone after grave stone, most the final resting place of two men (as space was limited), was overwhelmingly depressing. At the center was a mound of the unknown. This is the resting place and dedication to those dead who were unidentifiable. That was the most heartbreaking. So many families were never given an answer to the fate of their loved one. So many of the fallen are never to be known. Something that I thought of while walking the grounds is the idea that while these men were on the wrong side of history, they were fighting for their home. The Nazi regime rained hell upon Europe, claiming so many innocent lives. But the men buried here, these soldiers, were not all fighting for Nazi ideals, they were fighting for their home and their family, others forced into service. Most of these soldiers were my age, many younger. They were left with an unbelievable burden and deserve to be remembered.

The next day we visited Point du Hawk, Omaha beach and the American cemetery. Point du Hoc is a promontory with a cliff overlooking the English Channel. The German army fortified the area. On D-Day the United States Army Rangers were tasked with the objective to capture Point du Hoc to ensure that the German 155m guns would not threaten the Allies during the invasion and to prevent the Germans from using the area for observation. Omaha beach, another area of the Normandy coastline invaded on D-Day, had a heartbreaking story surrounding the fates of the “Bedford Boys”. Company A of the 116th, a former National Guard unit, was comprised of 35 men from Bedford, Virginia. Company A participated in the initial wave invading Omaha and was slaughtered. With war, these sort of casualties were not uncommon. However, what is so devastating is that Bedford, a town so small that everyone knew just about everybody, began receiving telegrams informing families about their loss one after another. A total of 22 young men lost their lives. Everyone in Bedford was affected by the devastation.

Point du Hoc

Point du Hoc

The American cemetery, which overlooked the water, was beautiful. The thing that stood out to me most, which I thoroughly appreciated, was that while a theme of the cemetery was uniformity, those who were of the Jewish faith were buried with the Star of David as the headstone, not a cross. The cemetery remembered the men lost in typical grand American fashion and highlighted the cause for which they fought. A quote that is located inside the accompanying museum by the doors which leads to the cemetery sums it up quite well – “If ever proof were needed that we fought for a cause and not for conquest it could be found in these cemeteries. Here was our only conquest: All we asked…was enough soil in which to bury our gallant dead.” (General Mark W. Clark)
The next day consisted of the Bayeux Tapestry, the Arromanches 360 Theater and the British cemetery. The Bayeux Tapestry, an embroidered cloth nearly 70 meters long depicting the entente leading up to the Norman conquest of England, was interesting. The museum that accompanied it, not so much. We saw a short video at the Arromaches 360 Theater that I found intense. The theater overlooks the water where several Mulberries, or artificial harbors, are located that were used during the D-Day invasion. The British cemetery was our last stop. It was my favorite out of the three. The graves in the cemetery were personalized with an inscription picked by the family located at the bottom of the grave stone. This personalization made the tremendous loss of life much more real. The surrounding area, just like the German and American cemetery, was beautifully sad.
Our last day consisted of a day trip to Mont. St. Michel. I was very excited about this. Mont. St. Michel is an island commune in Normandy, France. The island is home to a monastery which bears the same name. The position of the island made it accessible to pilgrims during low tide. During high tide the island was nearly impenetrable. Today, the abbey is home to a handful of monks and nuns.

Mont St. Michel

We were in Bayeux for about a week. The quaint little town was beautiful, almost like it was straight out of a storybook. Our next stop in France was Paris. I loved Paris. I hope I’ll be able to come back one day. We were there for just a few days and it was most certainly
enough.

While in Paris our group visited the Memorial de Martyrs de la Déportation and the Musée de l’Armée. The memorial was my favorite stop in Paris. The memorial is dedicated to the 200,000 people who were deported from Vichy France to the Nazi concentration camps. What I appreciated most was the inclusiveness of the memorial. European Jewry was by far the most devastated by the Nazi regime. However, I think it is important to remember that not all victims were of the Jewish faith. The memorial does not simple recognize the deportation of French Jews, but all those who were deported under the Vichy regime.
What I took away most from my time in France are the various ways the war is remembered. In the United States it was the “Good War.” Our cemetery is grand and beautiful. American boys fought and died for people they have never met and never would meet. The British cemetery was personalized and very much representative of the “People’s War.” The German cemetery on the other hand, while peaceful, was very dark. I feel as if Germany rightly so remembered their dead and remembered the destruction it caused. The difference, however, between the German cemetery and the American and British, is that it did not remember the cause. The American and British cemetery highlighted that the soldiers lost their lives defending the ideals of freedom, while the German cemetery did not emphasize Nazi ideals. Instead, they highlighted each individual man whose life was cut short.

Our next stop on this study tour was Bayeux, France. This is a small, quaint town in Normandy. A place where crime is nonexistent, laundry is eighty-five cents for every five minutes and it is impossible to find an open restaurant at 4 pm on a Sunday. Despite my laundry meltdown and lack of bread and cheese for a few short hours, I really liked this location.

As a group, we visited the Bayeux tapestry. It was wonderful. The tapestry is 230 feet long and 20 inches wide. When you walk alongside it while listening to the audio device they provide, you get to hear the story of Harold and William fighting to be King of England. Each scene is numbered so you follow in order as the audio narrates the story and points out specific images to look at. It would say, “Notice how Harold has his hands on different holy relics while he swears his allegiance to William. William was concerned that Harold might betray him so he wanted to ensure that the oath was binding.” Pointing out these specific images was helpful when we reached the end of the story.

Harold swearing his allegiance to William

Harold promised to recognize William as King of England in front of God and when he betrayed William, he suffered the consequences in the battle for England.

Another reason I enjoyed the tapestry was that I understood some of the language written on it. I studied Latin for four years in high school and that helped me translate some simple words before the audio explained what was happening. That’s part of why I loved the tapestry so much. I felt connected to it since I could translate the language when in Bayeux I did not understood what people said in French.

On our second day in France, I had to give a site report on a specific book I read which covered a topic in WWII. I decided to read Pegasus Bridge by Stephen Ambrose.

Pegasus Bridge

It follows Major John Howard and his team as they execute Operation Deadstick. My report was nerve-racking. While I was excited to share their story, it was intimidating to talk in front of my peers about a topic I cared so much about. I stood in the exact location that Major John Howard and his team landed three Horsa gliders to capture the Bénouville Bridge (later renamed Pegasus Bridge in honor of the 6^th Airborne Division) on June 6^th, 1944. Their story is incredible. The timing of their landings was so exact and they overcame the Germans guarding the bridge within ten minutes of their arrival. How could I do the story justice? I was standing next to the bridge, across the river from Café Gondrée and it was as if the pages of the book came to life.

Café Gondrée

I’m mentioning the café, which might seem unrelated to a military operation, because the Gondrée family did reconnaissance for the Allies before they landed the gliders on D-Day. That café has been around for over seventy years.  According to Ambrose, the Gondrées were the first people liberated in France. Seeing the café made me feel more connected to the site than seeing the bridge. It truly was an amazing experience.

During our stay in Bayeux, we visited three cemeteries. One honoring the German soldiers who died in battle, another honoring American soldiers, and the last one which honored British soldiers. They all differed from each other.

German Cemetery

In the case of the Germans, they lost the war. I felt as though their cemetery centered on respecting and honoring the dead. There was no focus on glory or success. German graves were very simple. Several young men would be listed on the same stone. The only information was their names and their date of birth to the day they died. It was terrible that so many teenagers were in those graves. Despite the terrible actions of the Nazis, I still value life and the young men were barely able to live theirs. I was most affected by the soldiers who died between the ages of fifteen and seventeen. I have two brothers in that age range. I hate to think what would have happened to them if we lived during the war.

The following day we visited the American cemetery. Unlike the German graves, these were large and honored each individual soldier. Even the unidentified men received a tombstone. The cemetery was packed with people paying their respects whereas the German cemetery was rather empty. For America, WWII was labeled “The Good War” and as a result, soldiers were honored for their glory and bravery. We won so our soldiers were our champions. There’s a quote I found about this cemetery that I want to share:

“There’s a graveyard in northern France where all the dead boys from D-Day are buried. The white crosses reach from one horizon to the other. I remember looking it over and thinking it was a forest of graves. But the rows were like this, dizzying, diagonal, perfectly straight, so after all it wasn’t a forest but an orchard of graves. Nothing to do with nature, unless you count human nature.” -Barbara Kingsolver

I believe it does a great job of describing the graves while also emphasizing the tragedy that comes with war. Young, brave soldiers died. This included several Ohio State students. I placed a flag on the grave of one. It is crazy to think that he had gone to the same school I attend currently, but he never made it home.

The Ohio State University flag next to the grave of a fallen Buckeye

Graves of American soldiers including the grave of Theodore Roosevelt Jr.

British graves commemorating the lives of three soldiers who practiced different religions

Lastly, we visited the British Cemetery. For the British, WWII was “The People’s War.” The graves reflected this sentiment in the sense that they were all individualized. For the American graves, they were all the same. The only differences were that the headstones either had a cross or star of David on them. The British cemetery recognized all religions. Family members could customize what they wanted the graves to say. The focus was on each soldier which was something that we did not see in the American or German cemeteries.

Next stop, Paris.

As we traveled into France, I couldn’t help but be wary of what my experience was going to be in the country. I think that France is spoken of so highly that I almost expected to be underwhelmed by the country. Truthfully, I found France to be absolutely breathtaking and worthy of all the positive reviews it receives. We began our time in France in the northern coastal city of Bayeux. The area that we stayed in looked very much like the older part of the city with narrow one way roads and buildings that looked at least a century old. The city was characterized most distinctly by a large cathedral that was built in the 11^th century.

Main street of Bayeux

Bayeux is in close proximity to both Utah and Omaha beach where the beach landings occurred for the D-Day invasions. We visited both beaches as well as Pointe du Hoc. Going to the beaches and actually standing where these events took place allowed me to gain a better understanding of the she

Utah Beach

er undertaking that was needed for those landings. I was actually surprised by the ways in which people used the beaches in present day.I thought that there wouldn’t really be any people on these beaches accept for tourists or school groups. There were actually very nice, what I assumed to be, beach front vacation homes on and around some of the cliffs of Omaha beach and there were people having picnics on the sand with their families and playing games. Omaha was the more lively of the two beaches and I think that how active the beach was, took away from seeing and experiencing that specific beach to its full capacity. Within the museums at the varying museums in the Normandy area, I got the continued message that the allied invasion was welcomed by the French but it was also a source of tension because of the destruction of the pre-invasion bombings.

Remains of ship from landings on Omaha Beach

While in Normandy we also visited the German, American, and British cemeteries. I was truly amazed by how different the locations and the set-up of the cemeteries were. The German cemetery was located next to a highway away from the beaches. It had sets of 5 crosses placed sporadically throughout with a large monument in the middle. This site did not seem to be well traveled and had a very somber feel to it. Aside from the lack of people, the small brown graves that were embedded in the ground made the area seem much more open and empty. These graves were also generally honoring two soldiers which added to the magnitude of death that could be felt there. Walking into the American cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach, I was struck by how large it was. There was row after row of white crosses that I think accurately depicted the destruction that the soldiers were faced with during the beach landings. The memorial at the beginning of the museum depicted a muscular man with his arms outstretched. The memorial at the beginning of the museum depicted a muscular man with his arms outstretched. I feel that this monument helped to depict the youth of many of the soldiers memorialized at the cemetery and worked to actively celebrate their service.  This gave the cemetery a more commemorative feel and there was a great sense of honor and pride that could be felt from those within the site. The British cemetery was the last cemetery and was not the largest or most extravagant but its layout memorialized its occupants in the most fulfilling way. The headstones were all engraved with different sayings and pictures unlike the headstones from the other sites which were all for the most part incredibly uniform. The diversity of those who were memorialized here was unexpected. There were Muslims, Jews, and Germans represented outside of the British soldiers which highlighted how far reaching the conflict was and how many different types of people were affected. I really got the sense that this was a place of peace and rest for those buried there. I think these aspects made me more appreciative of this site.

In France, for me, was the first real time culture shock was felt on this trip. It was when I heard people speaking a language I was hardly familiar with and there was just a different way in which people did things. In Bayeux, everything seemed to close very early. By 7pm, the main street had many of its stores closed and on Sunday, it was almost impossible to find anywhere to eat because so many places didn’t open on that day. The sun also set very late, around 10:30 pm, in all of France which is something I was not used to and it really influenced the way that I perceived time while there. Paris was more similar to what had been seen previously in London but there was a noticeable uptick in the amounts of PDA shown which is definitely outside of the norm elsewhere. I did feel like England and France were similar in the arrangement of living spaces. In both countries, within urban areas, houses were very close together, it seemed like houses had barely any yard space on the sides and had minimal amounts of space in the backyard area. I assume the closeness in living areas is due to the age of the cities and the need for space as the cities expanded. Still, I feel like in the suburbs there would be more room to spread out which I didn’t notice in either country. I look forward to our travel to Poland where I expect there will be much more stark cultural differences from America and even Western Europe.

It is an amazing experience to be staying within one of the few French towns that was spared from destruction during the Battle of Normandy. It is a real blessing to be able to walk down the original narrow cobblestone sidewalks of Bayeux and to be able to sit outside, on the lawn, shadowed by Notre Dame du Bayeux – the cathedral constructed in 1077. The majority of the other French towns that lay within the path of the Normandy Invasion were destroyed by either street fighting or strategic bombing. This area of France paid an enormous price for liberation. The men fighting for the liberation also paid an enormous toll. These last few days, I was able to tour the German, American, and British cemeteries, which house the many casualties resulting from the invasion. I compared each cemetery and each of the sites appeared, through their architecture, to highlight what the country saw as important in the after war period.

Bayeux Cathedral

Americans have always succeeded in making bold statements. As I walked through the huge marbled cemetery looking upon the 9,387 clean white stones, I kept looking out at the ocean, which the cemetery overlooks. The cemetery is clearly memorializing the “Spirit of Youth” – as the statue in its center is rightfully named. This is depicted throughout the memorial, from the sacrifice stories in the well-organized museum to the continuous list of names read over the loud speakers. Each story in the museum highlighted the everyday individual who achieved a collective courage. Having visitors walk through the museum first, then step out into the gigantic cemetery, really paints in bold relief sacrifices that occurred near these very beaches. I was reminded of Arlington National Cemetery – how each stone is symmetrical and identical for row upon row, which depicts the sheer amount of sacrifices that young American men endured. One thing that really struck me was, as I walked, I noticed that every stone, rather then facing the entrance, faced out toward America.

American Cemetary

We visited many sites that hammered in the idea of American unity and collective sacrifice, such as Pointe du Hoc, Omaha Beach, Utah Beach and Pegasus Bridge. Omaha and Utah Beach were not what I imagined before my trip. After reading many first-person sources regarding the planning and execution of the Normandy landings, I expected a large memorial to honor the 425,000 Allied and German troops who were killed. While a memorial was present on the beach, massive beach houses and fancy seafood restaurants that advertised names like “Overlord” surrounded it. Seeing the beaches really helped me understand the full invasion plan and appreciate the sacrifices of A Company at Dog Green on Omaha Beach. While the beach was much less somber than I imagined – the research I did prior to the trip really helped me to understand the strategic importance behind each landing.

Postwar Germany faced a difficult task between honoring their dead and not memorializing their deeds. The German cemetery was bleak with simple architecture. Many, if not all, of the headstones were shared between two men. Rather than facing out towards their country, these stones were flat and only faced the heavens. No silver hearts or iron crosses were written under the names of officers, only their rank, birth, and death. There were very few flowers or tokens of grief at each headstone, unlike the American and British cemeteries. The cemetery was simple and uniform, but lacked the dramatic impact that the American and British cemeteries carried. These were still young men and, while they fought for the wrong side, they were also fathers, sons, and husbands. Each man buried there left behind a future. I think the architectural message, especially based on the museum, is the promotion of peace. The Germans do not deny their wrongs and certainly do not memorialize them. The Germans strive to promote peace and show that the loss of life, no matter the side, is wasteful and should be avoided at all cost.

The cemetery that left the biggest impression on me was the British cemetery. Unlike the state commissioned stones at the American and German cemeteries, the British cemetery let the family of each of the dead customize their stones. This personalization really brought forth the British idea of the “People’s War.” The British believe that all fallen soldiers should be memorialized. Within this national cemetery lie, not only British citizens, but Polish, Czechs, Muslims, Jamaicans, and many more young soldiers who lost their lives during the invasion. Each inscription on the graves serves as a way of making the man who lies there not just another number in the high amount of casualties, but an individual. There were inscriptions from parents, children, and wives who memorialized the dead buried below. Each grave also was decorated with a wide range of flowers so that not one grave lay barren. This cemetery highlighted the sacrifice of the person rather than the group – turning numbers back into people.

Headstone in British Cemetary

As I was walking through the Caen Memorial Museum I noted a ratted and torn Nazi flag. I was reminded, from this, of an old poem titled, “Ozymandias” by Percy Shelley. In this poem a traveller comes upon a ruin in the middle of a barren land. Upon this crumbled statue is the inscription, “My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look at my works, ye mighty, and despair!” Nothing remains, during the time of the traveller, but a lone decayed embodiment of what was. I have begun to compare Hitler’s Regime to that of Ozymandias. As Hitler built his empire, his followers and soldiers must have really believed they were building a great power that would attest the wrath of time. All of these flags, bronze eagles, and insignias that I pass in these various museums were made with an aspiration of grand legacy. How amazing it is to now to see the remains of this empire that completely crumbled away in only twelve years – ye is no longer mighty.

Tattered Flag

During my time in Bayeux, I also saw the Bayeux Tapestry and Mont St. Michele. I have studied the Bayeux Tapestry since my freshmen year – when I was also studying anthropology. The Tapestry, often referred to as the first comic strip, is one of the best-preserved pieces of art from the 11th century. Commissioned in 1066 to celebrate the coronation of William the Conquer, this visit really melded well with my other visits to both Notre Dame de Bayeux and Westminster Abbey. The survival of the ornate detail, that remains intact after nine centuries, is truly miraculous. I really wish I could revisit the tapestry and spend hours studying all the pictures and hidden gems – it seems like one of those works where you notice something new each time you view it. Mont St. Michele was stunning with its gravity-defying medieval architecture. It was rainy, foggy and dreary during our visit, which is my absolute favorite weather. I felt like I was crossing the misty and haunting moors of Bronte’s, “Withering Heights.” From a distance, the abbey really does appear to be something out of Dracula. Its spires and dramatic location upon an island, surrounded by farmlands, really makes it look foreboding. The inside of the abbey was stunning and I really felt transported back to the medieval period.

Off to Paris tomorrow. Still humble.

This week in Bayeux has been a heavy dose of history and carbs. We began the week with the Caen World War II Museum, followed by a trip to Pegasus Bridge, where Charlie O’Brien delivered an informative site report on why capturing the bridge was important for the Allies. We visited Utah Beach and the Nazi bunker on it, then had the opportunity to contrast it with the steep cliffs of Omaha Beach and the artificial ports at Gold Beach. We explored Pointe du Hoc, which was a vital German strongpoint between Omaha and Utah Beach. We visited the German, American, and British cemeteries, the Arromanche 360 degree theater, the small town of St. Mere-Eglise, the Bayeux Tapestry, and Mont St. Michel.

Reminding everyone that we attend the Ohio State University at the top of the Pointe du Hoc cliffs

As I did in my first blog, I’d like to focus on a few sites that left the biggest impressions on me. Beginning at Pointe du Hoc, we walked through many Nazi bunkers and got a better understanding of what the fighting looked like from their perspective. Walking along the edge of the massive and steep cliffs illustrated  how daunting the task of the 2^nd Rangers was to scale the cliffs and destroy crucial German guns.

The second area I want to focus on is the cemeteries we visited. The German, American, and British cemeteries all provided a somber reminder of just how young many of the troops on all sides were. Many of the soldiers who died at Normandy were born after my grandfather, who recently celebrated his 97^th birthday.

We first visited the German cemetery, which was orderly and serious. The cemetery was very uniform, with plaques in rows listing the rank, name, and dates of birth and death of each fallen German. Between the rows, clusters of five crosses were interspersed. Unlike in the American and British cemeteries, the landscaping was plain. The cemetery was surrounded by trees, but there was no color other than the green grass and gray plaques and crosses. OK. Here’s proper description.

The La Cambe German Cemetery in Bayeux, France

The American cemetery had many similarities, but was significantly larger. Like the German cemetery, it was very uniform, with each tombstone containing the same information. The American cemetery overlooked Omaha Beach, where many of the Americans in the cemetery lost their lives in their fight to liberate France. This allows the cemetery to memorialize not only the men that died there, but also their cause.

The American Cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach

However, neither of these cemeteries provoked more thought on this account than the British cemetery. Unlike the uniformity of the first two cemeteries, the British cemetery added a personal touch by allowing family members of the fallen British troops to add a short quote to the tombstone. From poetic verses like “A wonderful nature so loving and kind, a beautiful memory left behind” to lines as simple as “Until we meet again,” each grave reminded that for every serviceman that was killed, a number of people lost a loved one too soon. A tombstone that particularly stuck out to me was that of a 28-year old Private, which bluntly read, “Some day we will understand.” These cemeteries, along with Brandon Fawbush’s compelling site report on the annihilation of the American 29^th division at Omaha Beach, served as a chilling reminder that there is nothing glamorous about war. To think of war as a game undermines the massive and devastating human cost that comes with it.

The British Cemetery in Bayeux, France

We are now settled in comfortably in Krakow, Poland, where I will be posting from soon!

Au revoir France,

js

Also, here are some pictures from Paris:

Onward to France! We began our stay in France at the town of Bayeux, for it is near the beaches of the D-Day invasion and it was the first town to be liberated during the Battle of Normandy. We visited a variety of museums while in the Normandy region, and these museums told a different story than the ones in London. The London museums were very Anglo-centric and gave minimal credit to the Americans in comparison to the French museums. The British museums were focused on the idea of the People’s War, so they generally portrayed how the British people experienced the war.

The French museums provided a better view of American involvement, but they too had their own spin on things. Most of the French museums made it a point to talk about the French resistance every chance they could get, and the museums would often exaggerate the role played by the resistance to make it seem like it was a much bigger movement with more involvement than it really was. The museums at Caen, Utah, and Omaha were better about giving a straightforward telling of events without putting too much of a French bias on things, but the Army museum in Paris was a bit of a different case.

View from the bluffs behind Utah Beach

Ohio flag hanging in the airborne museum

Pratt & Whitley Double Wasp Engine. Twin row 18 cylinder radial engine used in the B26

The Army museum managed to completely gloss over why the French fell to the Germans so quickly in 1940. The museum made the argument that the French fought hard and very well against the Germans but that the Germans had won, but it fails to mention how the Germans managed to win if the French had fought so hard and well. This museum also played up the resistance more than any other, and it even had a section inside the resistance section dedicated to the feats of resistance fighters than were blind. The De Gaulle Wing of the museum was essentially a large piece of propaganda in favor of De Gaulle. The basis of the whole exhibit was that De Gaulle was great and that all the French people wanted him to be in power, but it then mentions that when he ran for re-election in 1965 he had a much lower number of votes than expected. Deductive reasoning would reach the conclusion that not quite all French people were in favor of De Gaulle, but the museum glosses over this fact too.

My cohorts, Tyler and Ian, and I in a crater at Pointe Du Hoc

Overall the museums were pleasant once the French bias was out of the way, and the trips to Utah and Omaha beach were just as great as I had hoped for. Pointe Du Hoc was a sight to behold with all the craters from the bombing, and being able to go inside the remaining German bunkers was a very enriching experience.

Martin B-26 Marauder

Now we are off to Poland for a quick few days before we reach the final leg of the trip to Berlin. I’ll be checking back in very soon with the word on Poland.

Our arrival in Bayeux, France introduced many of us to a truly different culture. Where Londoners shared our love of the English language, most the people in Bayeux have a much smaller desire to speak and learn English. It really hit me that we were in unfamiliar territory. Yet, American and British flags line the streets. Entrepreneurs named their restaurants “Overlord Café” and “Omaha beach restaurant.” The marriage of Americanized establishments with ethnically and culturally different people gave me a truly shocking experience.

Unfamiliar territory was the theme of most World War II French museums. The Caen museum was our first encounter with the French version of WWII. While the museum itself is Americanesque (history is truly written by the victors), it has a strong French flair. As an American, we rarely come across histories of our nation from a universal narrative. Yet, this is exactly how most WWII French museums are designed. Every gallery focused on what brought Hitler to power. They point to Nationalism and failure of international powers to answer, including France and Britain. From here, the Caen museum focused on the scope of WWII. They narrated the North African campaign, the Eastern front, and then emphasized Operation Overlord, the invasion of Nazi occupied France.

Operation Overlord earns an entire exhibit wing. This was both surprising and unsurprising. It was unsurprising because the French Resistance played a crucial role in intelligence and disruption of German movement. Operation Overlord also brought the eventual end to Nazi occupation of France. Yet, I was surprised because the invasion fits unevenly into the French memory of the war. Americans love to believe every Frenchmen viewed them as liberators and saviors. Yet many French, particularly Normans, paid a high price for liberation. Allied pre-D-Day bombing decimated cities. Many faced the duality of liberation without a home. The Overlord museum covers the contentious nature of the bombings, but lightly. Anyone unaware of the French narrative would not notice the passive-aggressive language.

However, the most moving sites were not museums, but cemeteries. The German cemetery really moved me. Most of the men buried in Normandy were either younger than 20 or over 30. In fact, out of 30 randomly chosen graves, I found an average age of 32. Hitler, afraid of the Soviet steamroller, reinforced his Atlantic army with the old, the young, and the maimed. Many German defenders were Poles, Ukrainians, Czechs, or Soviet prisoners of war. They supplemented hardy veterans who transferred to France for recuperation. Despite this diverse fighting force, the German cemetery was homogenous. Every grave had the same tombstone, and every grave listed the same information. Not one listed nationality. Not one listed religion.

Picture of the German cemetery. Notice the uniformity and low-signature of the tombstones.

As an American and Marine, the American cemetery touched a nerve. At any angle, the graves are perfectly covered and aligned. The plots are the neatly assembled formations for the deceased, who await their final dismissal for Valhalla, heaven for combat heroes. These men were the true heroes of WWII, paying the ultimate price for a group of humans most had never met. A teary eyed salute to the fallen ended an emotional day abroad.

The most moving site was Omaha beach. My imagination immediately kicked in, and I saw young men as they approached the unknown. At low tide, these men crossed a gauntlet of obstacles and open terrain some 500-700 yards long. They were cold, tired, sick, and afraid. Hidden German machine guns took pot shots at the slow-moving landing crafts The Germans used the landing craft’s large steel ramps as practice for the Americans behind them. As the ramps dropped, many Americans were cut down before spotting their assailant. Several boats were annihilated before hitting sand. Those who disembarked successfully faced a wall of German fire crisscrossing the beach. These men were drenched, weighing around 60-100 pounds more with soaked gear. 29^th Division’s Company A is a grim reminder of the sacrifices at Omaha. By the evening of June 6^th, only 18 of 230 Company A men remained unharmed.

The Tide here is coming in. Imagine the beachhead extending another 500 yards.

For the American narrative, the Bayeux area is filled with historical artifacts and grim reminders of the sadistic and gruesome nature of war. For many of us, Bayeux became the first personal taste of WWII. The French theme of universalism helps give a scope of the massive scale of WWII, and has opened up my eyes for the remained of this trip.

On the morning of June 6^th, 1944 thousands of young men sacrificed their lives on the beaches of Normandy in order to bring about the destruction of the Third Reich. Today, they are regarded as heroes for their actions. However, each nation differs in how they pay homage to their fallen soldiers from the Normandy operations and the war in general. This was best reflected in the cemeteries in the areas around the invasion beaches. It was truly a privilege to stand on the same sand where the liberation of Western Europe commenced and tour the cemeteries.

The first beach we visited was Utah beach, where the American 4^th Infantry Division landed. Once I walked down to the shore line and turned around and gazed upon the same sandy slopes I was able to appreciate the magnitude of what the soldiers had been tasked with. I was stunned. It is one thing to read about these topics in books and documents, it is entirely another to be where they actually occurred. Our group also visited our first cemetery that day, the German one. I was immediately struck by the simplicity of the cemetery. In the Germany cemetery there were five crosses grouped together in various rows but the individual soldiers were marked by a plaque on the ground. These plaques were quite simple, only providing name, rank, and dates of birth and death of the individual. The most interesting bit of information on these plaques was the age of the fallen soldiers. Some were just boys, the youngest age I saw was sixteen. Some were relatively old; the oldest I saw was around forty years old, and likely able to recall the WWI. This age range highlights the state of the German armed forces at this point in the war in many instances. The cemetery wasn’t that large, and the stones were a plain brownish stone color rather than the traditional white or cream colored stone in most military cemeteries. In my mind, the purpose of the German cemetery was to remember the lives lost, but not their actions or their cause. This was in stark contrast to the American and British cemeteries.

The German cemetery, notice the lack of floral vegetation and general plainness

The grave of Michael Wittmann, a German tank ace, and his crewmen

The American cemetery was the next one we visited, and it was by far the largest and most extravagant of the three. The sections are lined with row after row of white crosses, or the Star of David, perfectly aligned from several viewpoints. These crosses contained a bit more information than those in the German cemetery, such as regiment and the state they were from. I believe the absence of the regimental information on the German graves reflects a desire to forget the military and objectives of the Third Reich while honoring the men who died. On the other hand, some of the information on the American graves was quite specific. For example, there were many instances of not only division but regiment being identified. My biggest critique of the American cemetery was the lack of personality provided to the soldier. It appeared as though they were not relinquished from their military service even in death. However, the British cemetery demonstrated a balance between honoring both the military service and the individuality of the men who gave their lives.

View of the American cemetery

The quote displayed before one walks onto the cemetery grounds

The graves at the British cemetery contained a greater diversity of representation ranging from Muslim graves to Jamaican. These graves also contain remarks from the families in addition to the military information, age, and name. It is these remarks that display a remembrance of the men not just as soldiers but also as sons, brothers, fathers, and more. I believe best embodiment of this concept was a quote from the family of C. E. A. Cox, Royal Army Medical Corps, on his grave: “The King called. He answered. The King of Kings called. He answered.” This reflects the soldier’s service to his king, country, and faith. Furthermore, the British cemetery also contained many graves marking the remains of German soldiers. This reflects the desire for postwar reconciliation between the two powers, but the same gesture is absent from the American cemetery.

View of the British cemetery, notice the floral vegetation right on the graves

When the King calls

Visiting these cemeteries and the landing beaches was compels reflection on the age on the graves across the cemeteries. In the Allied ones the age was more concentrated around the early twenties, while the German cemetery displayed a varied range from sixteen to forty years old. At the age of twenty-one, it is hard for me to imagine how I would have reacted in the situations that faced these valiant young men. It is painful to realize that the young Allied men never did see the results of their efforts and a world without a world war. This is obvious, they died of course, but it I simply have an entirely different appreciation of what they faced now that I witnessed the beaches they stormed. War has a cost, and often we forget that the statistics in our textbooks were young men and women with stories, families, and a future cut short.

Omaha Beach, the pictures does not do justice for the size of the hills the men had to storm

Post card featuring the “Welcome our Liberators” phrase.

World War II began on September 1,1939; about a year later one of the major global powers, France, fell to the powerful German forces. In almost every history class I have taken, my teacher has found a way to make the French the punch line of a joke because of France’s fall in 1940. Four years passed before Allied forces finally liberated the French. Between its fall in 1940 and its liberation in 1944 there has been a debate about whether there was predominate French collaboration with the Germans or predominate French resistance. The impression I have always been under is that for the most part, the French could be considered collaborators. The Germans seemed to be well on their way to taking over the entirety of Europe, and the French needed to figure out how they would fit into Germany’s new empire. Or so the story goes in the American narrative I grew up learning. The French narrative is a bit messier. This was extremely evident when comparing the town of Bayeux to the Caen Memorial Museum we visited.

On Saturday May 14 we made the transition from the fast-paced city of London to the quieter, slower-paced Bayeux. Bayeux is about forty minutes away from the beaches where the Normandy Invasion took place. Even though D-Day occurred on June 6, 1944, almost 71 years ago, the events of the invasion still seem to be fresh in the minds of the people of the surrounding area.

Bayeux itself is not very big. Therefore, it was very easy to walk around and get a good sense of the city. The more I explored the city, the more I began to notice the same phrase. It read, “Welcome to our Liberators.” I saw this phrase in the windows of several restaurants scattered throughout the city, on the doors to the Welcome Center of the British cemetery, and even on postcards at a souvenir shop. Obviously the liberators this phrase is referring to are the Americans, the British and the Canadians.

The phrase “Welcome to our Liberators” seems to contradict what I was presented with about the French national narrative of World War II that was present in the Caen Memorial Museum. There were several things I liked about this museum, the first being the overall setup. I liked that the pre-war exhibit made visitors feel like they were descending into hell gradually. The flooring changed, the walls went from smooth to rough, but the changes were subtle enough so you didn’t really notice the changes until you had descended quite a ways. To me, this helped the visitors get a visually accurate representation to how the war started. There were seemingly small, insignificant things happening that led to WWII rather than the abrupt beginning that many histories of the war still seem to have.

The plaque talking about French liberation.

However, what I found frustrating in the museum was that it celebrated the French resistance too much and seemed to downplay the role of the other Allies, especially in regards to D-Day. In the museum’s section on D-Day there was a phrase that stuck out to me in particular, it was on one of the plaques hanging on the wall. It read: “With or without the help of the Allied forces, most of France had been liberated by August and September 1944.” This phrase downplays the significance the Americans, British and Canadians had in the French liberation and gives much of the credit to the French resistance. While there was French resistance it was not so significant as the Caen museum would lead you to believe.

The juxtaposition between what I saw in the museum and what I saw around Bayeux leads me to believe that the French still are struggling with how they want to remember World War II. While on one hand its difficult for such a large global power to admit that it needed help

“Welcome to our Liberators” as seen in the window of a local restaurant.

liberating itself, it still needs to be acknowledged. This is why I feel like I saw so many “We welcome our Liberators” throughout Bayeux. The phrase was found in random places, almost seeming to blend in to the surroundings. This is the French way of saying that they know how big of a role others played in their liberation without having to completely admit it in their national narrative.

Walking into the American Cemetery in Normandy was one of the most moving experiences I’ve had. Before reaching the actual cemetery, we walked through a museum that told the stories of some of the people that were buried there. Many of these people left behind wives, children, and parents. They were truly courageous people with many having great lives that they were never able to fully live out. One of the most touching stories was of the Niland family. They were four brothers, Robert, Preston, Edward, and Frederick Niland, from Tonawanda, New York. Robert and Preston died within the first two days of the D-Day invasion, while Eddie went missing just a few days later in the Pacific. Robert “Bob” Niland was killed on June 6, 1944 when volunteering with two others to help hold off a German advance; he was the only one of the three who died. Preston was killed near Utah Beach the next day. Edward Niland went missing on May 16 after he parachuted out of his aircraft. He was captured as a Prisoner of War by the Japanese in Burma and was not known to be alive until he was released a year later in 1945. The only known brother alive at the time was Frederick, who was returned back to the United States to finish the rest of his service there after the tragedies of his three brothers. There is a quote by Stephen Adly Guirgis that says, “No parent should have to bury a child….No mother should have to bury a son. Mothers are not meant to bury sons.” Within a month, a mother was left with the possibility of burying three of her sons. The story of the Niland brothers is the basis for the movie “Saving Private Ryan.” Although the most well-known and perhaps most unique story, this is not the only family that suffered harsh tragedies. Just about every family lost multiple people throughout the war and thousands of mothers had to bury their sons.

As I walked through the entrance to the actual cemetery grounds, the wind blew around me, and it felt as if the ghosts of thousands of people were still flying about. The cemetery was filled with over 9,000 graves of fallen American soldiers. The crosses were lined up perfectly and seemed to go on forever. The gravestones just displayed the soldier’s name, unit and division, the state that they were drafted in, and the date of their death. Many of these crosses covered the graves of soldiers that could never be identified. Seeing the massive size of the graveyard and realizing that it wasn’t even one percent of the amount of people to die during the war is pretty striking. It just seemed as if so many lives were wasted.

One of the rows of graves at the American Cemetery in Normandy

Although the American Cemetery was very hard to walk through, the British one in Normandy was even harder for different reasons. The American cemetery grounds seemed to place more emphasis on the sheer number of people killed in the war, although they did acknowledge individuals in the museum section before heading outside. They didn’t have dates of birth or the soldiers’ age when they were killed, and they didn’t have anything really personal on the actual gravestone itself. The British one, however, albeit being smaller, was much more personal on each one. It gave the age of their death and a personal quote from the family of each soldier on every gravestone. I remember one in particular saying something along the lines of, “In remembrance of a great father and an even better daddy.” The quotes on them really helped to give a much better perspective of the fact that each person was different and a unique individual; they all had families that they left behind. The ages also helped to put me in their shoes even more. Many of the people buried were only 18, 19, or 20. They were younger than I am. I feel like I still have so much of my life left to look forward to. It’s really hard to imagine not even living to the age that I am or my younger brother is. If I lived in that time period, it’s very likely that I would have been buried in one of these cemeteries myself.

Rows of graves at the British Cemetery in Normandy

Memorial at the British Cemetery in Normandy that reads “Their Name Liveth For Evermore”

So many people died much too young during World War 2 and although their sacrifice was honorable and important, the sacrifice of so many people’s lives is not something that we should ever want to come to. Hopefully we can all look back and learn from our mistakes and prevent such evil from rising to power again; and prevent ourselves from having to build more cemeteries on the scale of these ones.

Stop two, Bayeux, France.

Heading into the trip I knew this would be one of the places that affected me the most emotionally. After focusing on Omaha Beach during class, I was intrigued to experience the sight in person. Before the program I couldn’t picture the thousands of soldiers or the setup of the beach. I assumed the bluffs were similar to dunes and didn’t understand the exact set up of the German defense and just how deadly it was.

A few things drastically changed my perspective. First, the American Cemetery in Normandy opened my eyes to the people involved. The graves just kept going and they were all identical, aside from the Jewish stones which contained the Star of David. The stones were perfectly set so each row was a perfect line in any direction. The British Cemetery was also quite emotional for different reasons. Although the number of graves were much smaller, the graves had personal messages which humanized and brought attention to who the individual soldiers were. I happened upon a grave with my last name, and the soldier died at the age of twenty. This stuck me especially hard because as a current 20 year old I began to imagine what my life would be during that time period.

Tombstone of W.J. Ayres

I also was shocked at the amount of unknown soldiers and the way they were set to rest. In the German Cemetery, the stones simply translated as “Unknown German Soldier,” whereas the British and American cemeteries gave much more honorable dedications both saying the soldiers were known but to God. Evidently, the honor bestowed on the soldiers was depending on their country.

Second, the actual beach still contains the German bunkers. These bunkers are not only directly on the beach but also much higher up than I imagined. The bluffs are much taller than dunes and semi- resemble small mountains in which the German gunman and snipers could easily pick apart the American troops. The beach was also much wider than I imagined, and it was truly horrifying imagining the fear and determination as the men tried to make their way to the bluffs.  We were standing in the spot where the first waves of the 29^th division landed, specifically, the 116^th infantry. This group of about 150 National Guard soldiers suffered a huge loss with only around 19 soldiers not being killed or injured. These men were told they would be given a front row seat to the greatest show on earth. The Allies believed their bombing and naval shelling campaigns would destroy or at least damage the German bunkers and the men would simply walk up the beach. This however was not the case as the campaigns did relatively nothing. As compared to Point Du Hoc, which had bomb craters everywhere, Omaha was basically untouched. The bunkers were set up in such a manner that the first waves of men had almost no hope of survival. They had around 500 yards of open sand before the bluffs. Standing on the beach with the tide out really showed just how dreadfully far the men had to run without cover and with enemy fire as strong as a storm wind. Lastly, Point Du Hoc gave me a chance to see just how difficult the tasks at hand were. The cliffs that Rangers had to climb were much higher than I expected, and the bombs left such deep craters in the ground. It amazed me that the site remained intact and no one interfered with preserving it. The bunkers and even the craters in the ground were basically untouched. Although some of the bunkers had collapsed from wear and tear of weather, the remains were not moved. The craters were also not filled in which gave a great perspective of the destruction of the bombs.

Me standing in a bomb crater, Point Du Hoc.

Overall Normandy was incredibly moving. I enjoyed it because you were consistently immersed in the history even when we were just walking around the town. You couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the rich history the town had worked so hard to preserve.

The second country I visited for my study abroad tour was France. On Saturday, May 14^th we took a ferry across the English Channel from Portsmouth, England to Caen, France. Our journey began here because of the historical significance of this area in 1944 and 1945 when the Allies launched the D-Day invasion at Normandy beach. We stayed in a small town named Bayeux. This is a humble town is centered around a cathedral that was built in the medieval times. Our main excursions while here were to museums and monuments in and around Omaha and Utah beach, which are the locations where American forces began the Normandy invasion. It was an incredibly moving experience to stand on the beaches where men gave their lives in order to help liberate Europe from Nazi control. I was particularly moved by a few specific experiences during my six-day stay in Bayeux. These experiences led me to get to know two people in very different ways. One was an owner of a café in Bayeux. The other was a soldier who died on June 6, 1944.

We stayed in a small town named Bayeux.

This small town was a change of pace after being in a city like London. The only way to travel around town was to walk. There was one main street and one grocery store. However, the town did not disappoint with the number of eateries and cafes. They lined most of the little streets. During my stay, I became particularly fond of a small café named Au Georges II. I went there frequently to get a Crepe with Nutella on it (tastes as good as it sounds). After a couple of days, I befriended the owner of this shop. I learned that his name is Jacques. Despite the obvious language barrier (he only spoke French and four years of high school Spanish didn’t really help me in France), I said hello to him every day I passed the café. On our last day in Bayeux, I was able to memorize a few sentences and give him a small gift.

I made a new friend in France. He is a small business owner named Jacques.

This unlikely friendship is symbolic of what it was like to live in small town France. It had a feel unlike the large cities that we will be spending much of our trip in. It was a more relaxed pace and it was easy to feel at home. At the same time, this was nothing like the suburban lifestyle I have become accustomed to in the United States. Everybody walked to the outdoor shops and restaurants that were located along the river that ran straight through the town. The biggest concern as a tourist in Bayeux was whether or not the wifi would work (it usually didn’t). This peaceful town with beautiful architecture was a great change of pace for a group that also went to London and Paris.

Walking through the American Cemetery in Normandy.

In addition to my stay in Bayeux, another big part of this site was the cemeteries we visited. In total, we visited three cemeteries: a German cemetery, a British cemetery, and an American cemetery. They each held the graves of soldiers who were killed during the Normandy campaign. It was stunning to be at both the places soldiers fought and the places they were laid to rest. I was particularly struck by the American cemetery. The cemetery is located just beyond the sands of Omaha beach, where the bloodiest fighting took place on D-Day. We began by placing a flag at the grave of twelve Ohio State students and faculty that died during the Normandy campaign and are buried in that cemetery. After this, we were given time to look around the grounds where 9,387 young men were buried. Time to pay our respects. Time to reflect. Time to contemplate. The rows and rows of crosses made it easy to yearn to know the stories of each individual soldier represented by each gravestone. This really hit me during my time alone at the cemetery. I wanted to know about each man, or at least think about who he was. When this thought hit me, I immediately walked down a row and stopped at a random grave to contemplate and gather my thoughts.

The grave of PFC Fred W. Plumlee.

I don’t know Private First Class Fred W. Plumlee. I don’t know where he was when he died in combat on June 6, 1944. I don’t know where he lived in Georgia, what his family was like, or what he wanted to do with his life. All I know is what is engraved on his gravestone. A simple google search did not lead to anything definitive about this man. All I know is that his grave was in the exact spot where I stopped to spend a half an hour contemplating individuality in World War II. Though he is just a small grave in a sea of thousands of gravestones, he was still a person. I thought about what his dreams may have been, what his past was, and who the people were that he loved. Though I can’t answer any of these questions, I thought about who he might have been and considered whether or not he had anything in common with me. It was here that I reached a great understanding. Though we can’t know the story of every soldier who died in World War II, that’s not the part that matters. What matters is that we recognize that behind each gravestone is a unique man who deserves to be recognized as such. Though I couldn’t and think at all 9,387 graves, I did stop at one. And that made all the difference.