It was a strange contrast standing on Utah beach with the sun shinning and the breeze blowing and knowing that men stormed that beach nearly 70 years ago in the cold rain. The museum recreated the atmosphere of the obstacles that the army faced as they made their way up the beach. I found especially interesting the equipment used by the medics and doctors of World War II. In the museum were dehydrogenated medicines that were compact enough to be carried in mass quantities and easily turned into usable medicines.

When we visited Pointe du Hoc the war suddenly became real. Craters from the bombs dropped by the Allied aircrafts littered the ground. I saw the cliffs that the Rangers climbed and the gun emplacements they stormed. The destruction of war was present throughout the area, and the reality of the difficulties of battle became much more real. I enjoyed exploring the bunkers and learning about the reason behind the importance of this battlefield. The information that Henry provided at his site report put the place and the battle in perspective since the mistakes made at Omaha and Pointe du Hoc were very similar. The intelligence at Pointe du Hoc believed that there were large artillery pieces, but they had been moved earlier and at Omaha beach the bunkers built into the mountain almost resulted in a failure of taking the beach.

We visited two cemeteries, a German cemetery and American cemetery, the last couple of days. The German cemetery was small and had one statue standing in the middle. The visitor center focused on the need for peace in the future and seemed to be a look at the destruction caused by the war. Various groups donated the trees standing outside the cemetery, and the description inside explained that the trees could only grow in peace when we take care of them just as society can only grow in peace times. The American cemetery was much more extravagant. The visitors’ center was more of a museum that highlighted heroic stories and walked the visitor through the invasion of Normandy. The headstones were more prominent in the American gravesites. The theme of peace continued in the American cemetery, but the tone was different. Instead of there being an urge to keep the peace, it was a remembrance for the sacrifice made to obtain peace. Although they were both focused on peace, there seems to be a dark cloud surrounding the German cemetery. This is understandable, because of the preservation of World War II history in France, the German occupation in France also continues to be fresh in their minds.

During the semester, we were each responsible for reading a book related to one of the sites that we would be visiting and then writing a book report critiquing the book that we read. We were then instructed to prepare a report to deliver when we visited the relevant site during the program. On Tuesday, I delivered my site report to the group. I had read Pegasus Bridge by Stephen Ambrose and delivered my report at Pegasus Bridge in the town of Bénouville here in Normandy.

On the eve of D-Day, the British gliderborne D Company of the 2^nd Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry in the British 6^th Airborne Division was tasked with securing two bridges in tact. In the early hours of June 6, 1944, the company landed in wooden gliders and successfully captured the bridges and defended them from approaching German armored divisions. By securing the bridges, D Company successfully prevented German reinforcements from reaching the Normandy beaches and ensured the easier transportation of British forces and supplies into the heart of the Norman territory.

Before I visited the location, I had no idea what to expect. While the current bridge is not the same as the one that crossed the river on the morning of June 6, it bares a close enough resemblance that I was able to gain a reasonable perspective of the environment. Close to the current bridge, people have placed monuments marking the landings of each of the gliders. One of the remarkable successes of D Company’s operation was the gliders’ proximity to their objective; once the men oriented themselves, they only had to proceed a few hundred yards to the bridge. When I had read the book, I was unable to picture the terrain, the bridge, and their location relative to the bridge. After visiting, I was finally able to realize just how noteworthy their actions had been.

They had spent months planning for the invasion; they had gained and evaluated intelligence, prepared for any situation, and molded a coherent and specialized fighting force designed to invade behind enemy lines and prepare the way for invading forces. If they had not been successful, they would have been stuck with no chance of escape, and the Germans would have been able to reinforce the beaches, perhaps succeeding to push the British forces back to the channel, like they wanted to do. When I stood by the riverbank, I gained an immense appreciation for their ability to successfully accomplish their almost impossible objective while simultaneously becoming aware of how little I truly understood the events of the war.

During our trip, we have had remarkable weather with perfectly clear blue skies and warm weather. As I have stood on the beaches, on the riverbanks, and on the cliffs, I have had an impossible time juxtaposing our experience of peaceful towns and calm water with their experience of flying mortars, cloudy skies, and mass confusion. Even though I can pay my respects in an attempt to honor the men who served on the beaches and can now visualize the basic terrain, I can and will never understand the struggles and difficulties they experienced.

I find it very difficult to express the emotions and thoughts I have had over the past few days here in Normandy.  Every site we have visited has sparked different emotions and responses. I have felt confused at Omaha Beach, proud at Utah, and intrigued at Arromanche; I have enthusiastically explored at Point-du-Hoc and cried at the British Cemetery. I have been deeply moved, confused, and humbled by the events leading up to, during, and after June 6, 1944. In the past, I studied the events as a series of military tactical and strategic objectives, and somehow in the process either forgot or dismissed the personal element to war. Those who died are not just empty numbers, and their bravery is not just an empty story.

As I sit in my room here in Bayeux and write this post, I am struggling to understand, let alone communicate, the many thoughts in my mind. I think the best way to encapsulate my feeling that I either forgot or never truly began to understand the personal consequences of WWII is to share a message written on a tombstone in the British cemetery here in Bayeux that struck me. On the gravestone, the family had inscribed: “To the world he was but one, but to us he was the world.”

An anti-aircraft gun pit. It was safer to be in than some of the craters, believe me.

Today we went to Pont-du-Hoc, Omaha Beach, and the American cemetery here in Normandy. It’s truly at the sites of actual battles, as well as where the victims of those battles lay, that you get a very powerful perspective on just how awesome and history-making these battles were. For example, at Pont-du-Hoc, we were able to see not only the ruins of several of the German embankments and bunkers, but the craters left behind by the bomb blasts! Some of those gaping holes, now full of grass and plant-life, were about ten feet deep and several feet across in diameter. And not only that, but the length of the battle was so long, like nearly a kilometer or so. You always think battles seem so contained, like they only occupy a single large field or a single building, but in reality, this was widespread, just like the chaos of war. It was mind-blowing to see all that with my own eyes.

And if I closed my eyes, I could almost hear the bombs and the battle going on around me.

Later on when we went to lay roses down on the graves of OSU veterans at the American cemetery, I saw a fraction of the casualties sustained because of the war, and I was completely stunned. Sometimes people talk about interventions in other countries or showing some force against those who threaten America (or whatever country one may belong too), but they don’t see the results, the many horrific deaths. In Normandy, those many, many crosses, with Stars of David interspersed here and there, are a stunning reminder of what happens when you go to war . Perhaps more people would be less likely to talk about using force if they saw these graveyards more often.

It’s strange how the past finds echoes in today’s world. I still find more reasons to remember the Second World War with every passing day, how it continues to influence my life in so many subtle ways. And I wonder what’ll happen tomorrow, what echoes I’ll come across or what shocking reminders I’ll find that war touched this tranquil corner of France?

I’m sure I’ll find out soon.

“We’ll go.” General Eisenhower’s famous two words that commenced the Allied invasion of Normandy on the 6^th of June 1944 was the theme of our group’s travels to Normandy, France this past week. Eisenhower, faced with the prospect of halting the invasion in the teeth of bad weather, decided to go forward with the amphibious attack on the five beaches along the French coast. Conversely, for the past few days, we have been blessed with beautiful weather in the town of Bayeux as we make our own invasion of Normandy. Every morning when Professor Steigerwald asks the group if we are ready to get on the bus, many of us wittily respond: “We’ll go.”  From Utah and Omaha Beaches, Pointe du Hoc, Pegasus Bridge, Arromanches, and German, American, and British cemeteries, we have explored almost all of the aspects of the strategic and thoroughly planned attack on Nazi forces to bring down the Third Reich.

First on our agenda was the opportunity to compare the differences between Utah and Omaha Beach. Historically, Omaha Beach is where the most brutal fighting between the Nazis and the Americans took place on D-Day. It was Omaha, rather than Utah, that was the toughest beach to take. However, as a memorial to D-Day, Utah Beach does more justice in remembering the American lives lost on French soil than Omaha does. This is quite contrary to what I had expected. At Utah Beach, there was a space cleared for plaques, statues, and a museum. In fact, many of German General Irwin Rommel’s defense tactics were preserved on the beach. On the contrary, the beaches of Omaha have been recently developed, and summer homes, restaurants, and shops line the shore. The only visible commemoration to the Allied victory is an erected steel work of art on the shoreline. Besides one closed bunker and the empty encasement of artillery pieces, the beach has been wiped clear of remnants.

Additionally, our group has spent the last few days comparing and contrasting how three nations commemorate the lives lost during and after D-Day in Normandy. We first entered the German cemetery, where the headstones to graves were black and laid flat on the ground; they simply read, “Here lies a solider.” In general, the German cemetery had a much darker and less peaceful feel compared to that of the Allied cemeteries. We then explored the American Cemetery, where graves were marked with uniform white crosses. The buildings and attached museum gave the grounds a more pristine and clean feel. As Ohio State students, we also laid roses at each of the thirteen graves of fallen fellow Buckeyes that died in the D-Day invasion or soon thereafter. Lastly, we walked through the British cemetery here in Bayeux. It was sobering to experience the tranquility and serenity felt on the grounds. Not only did the graves have personal messages from family members on the headstones, but the rows were also lined with flowers and trees. Even more, the cemetery consisted of graves for the fallen Germans, Poles, Canadians, Czechs, Italians, and French, not just Brits.

Besides the various invasion points and commemoration memorials, our group has been enjoying the weather and endless amounts of bread, crepes, and Nutella in the land of the French. In the quaint town of Bayeux, many of us try to make due with the few phrases we know when speaking to the locals. “We’ll go” to Paris come Sunday, where I anticipate a more cultural aspect of the war to be studied.

On our first full day in Normandy we went to a few important places in the Battle of Normandy. The first location that we visited was Pegasus Bridge, so named for the fly horse symbol of the 6^th British Airborne Division. This division was a specially trained unit of glider troops that landed just after midnight on June 6^th, 1944. Their objective was to secure and maintain control of Pegasus Bridge, and Emily gave a wonderful site report that outlined the attack and its critical part in Operation Overlord. Emily also shared an interesting anecdote about the fight for Pegasus Bridge, and quoted Stephen Ambrose in regards to its importance. Emily told the group that at one point, a single anti-tank shot made the difference in securing the bridge, and Ambrose extrapolates in his book that the battle essentially won the invasion. This fascinates me because so many important events occurred that heavily influenced the outcome of the war. If any part of the invasion on the beaches of Normandy changed, the entire operation could have failed. While I normally do not dabble in theoretical history, this idea captivates my interest. The thought that one shot in the entirety of the war could have changed the outcome of a battle, operation, and world history is unfathomable to my consciousness.

Another subject, which I repeatedly find myself struggling to comprehend, is that an event can occur and create a different perspective for every person. We spent the next portion of our day in Caen, the primary objective for the Allies in the overall strategic plan of the invasion. The group visited The Caen Memorial, a museum that covers history from the First World War to the fall of the Berlin Wall. The detailed and organized exhibitions caused us to spend over 3 hours in the museum. The entire site was immensely helpful to my understanding of these histories because it presented a French perspective on the events. What was most interesting to me was the infusion of the French Resistance into the museum. During the past semester in classes and in my own research, I have learned that there was a myth created by Charles de Gaulle that the French Resistance was much larger and more influential during the war. Throughout the exhibits, I constantly saw hyperbolic language referencing the number and influence of the French Resistance. Often this did not include any sort of historical evidence. Also, the French museums focus more onn the destruction and effects on civilian life than most countries. This is important because the Germans controlled France for the majority of WWII, and so they have a closer affinity to the effects of war on life.

This is a portion of history that I believe is very important, and I strive to understand and consider the effects of perspective. The American experience and outlook is starkly different from the Italian, French, Polish, British, Russian, German, or Japanese experience. The thoughts, opinions, and backgrounds of those people, coupled with the events and battles create a unique wartime view for each country and each person as well. The stones outside of the memorial further emphasized this concept, as each country sent a different message to commemorate Normandy. Each country had a different reason for fighting in the war, and the result and the involvement had a different significance for their people.

Humbling.

That’s the only way to describe what we’ve encountered the past two or three days in Bayeux, which is a small, genteel town on the Norman coast not too far from where D-Day took place. Of the morning on the day that I am writing this post, we went to Utah Beach, where the Allied troops had by far the easiest landing (tomorrow we go to Omaha Beach, which was, without a doubt, the most difficult landing). Here on this beach, men landed, fought and died for the right of others, most of whom they’d never met, to live in peace and not have to fear totalitarianism or that whatever family or people they were born into would get them killed.

Standing at the beach or by the museum we would later go into, you can see memorials all over the coast, commemorating the many people who fought and died on that bloody day nearly seventy years ago. And all around the area, you see white and blue signs marking a spot where an Allied soldier was felled. When you reach the town of St. Mere-Eglise, you can go to the church and how the paratroopers who helped to liberate the town have been immortalized on the outside of the church and the stained-glass windows depicting paratroopers on either side of the Virgin Mary.

After roaming through the Musee Airborne, you finally go to the German War Cemetery, kept and maintained as a reminder of the atrocities of the war and how peace should be preserved.

One sees all this, and one can’t help but feel humbled by all that they’ve been witness too. This is the marking of history, of powerful events that still resonate in this area of France today. It’s like being hit by a shockwave from the past that flows through you and makes you aware of the gravity of the battle for the liberation of France.

Tomorrow I go to visit more beaches and cemeteries. I don’t think that feeling of humility will be diminished. In fact, I’m willing to bet money it’ll be just as awe-inspiring as Utah and everywhere else I was today, if not much more than that. And I look forward to documenting every minute of it, both in photos and in my memories (though the latter tends to be really spotty sometimes).

See you when I write again!