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After spending the first leg of the trip in London, where we learned about the British perspective during World War II, we set sail for Northern France. While in Bayeux, we visited the British, German, and American cemeteries and the famous beaches of Normandy that tell the story of young men and their sacrifices not only for their countries but also for the entire world. The narrative in a movie at the American military cemetery said, “They did not know it at the time, but the fate of the entire free world rested on their very young shoulders.” Our time in France has shown me the difference between the British and French perspectives on the war. The French believe in not glorifying winning the war but in remembering the suffering that came from the sacrifice involved.

I think the heaviest moment of this trip for me so far has been seeing the beachfront in Normandy. We arrived at Omaha Beach at low tide rising, the same conditions as on the morning of the D-Day invasion, and the distance from the water across the beach and to the hills was astounding. It gave me chills to picture Allied troops storing ashore across such a vast span. You can read about this invasion and see photos, but seeing the beach for myself and realizing how far those men had to advance through gunfire with their friends being gunned down beside them really weighed down on me.  I am so very glad that I will never have to experience that for myself because of the sacrifices made by those brave men almost eighty years ago.

The cemeteries we visited portrayed three different impressions: the British cemetery gave off a warm feeling, the German cemetery was somber, and the American cemetery felt triumphant. The fact that France has burial grounds dedicated to the German soldiers who also fought in the war was something I had never thought of before. They remembered the men on their own, winning side, yet they also thought to provide a resting place for everyone, no matter the cause for which they fought. “Man is not entirely to blame; it was not he who started history; nor is he entirely innocent, since he continues it.” This quote by the French philosopher Albert Camus describes how the French display the history of the war very well. The terrible war caused the suffering of many, and France recognizes the suffering and hardship of everyone (while not glorifying those who fought for Nazi Germany) and chooses never to forget the tragedy of World War II.

We as a class have finished our last day here in Normandy, France in the small town of Bayeux, and I have been immensely thankful to have eaten many good meals, sipped some of the finest coffee I’ve ever had, and sampled more pastries than I care to admit. I would love to go on praising the fine French food and the many wonderful sites I’ve seen, but this isn’t a foodie or a travel blog, this is a blog dedicated to history. So now I’ll pivot to the real reason we are here, and that is to discuss the impact of the historical areas we have seen, how they have made us feel and what we can take from these sites after we are gone. For the focus of this post, I have been mulling over just how a nation remembers and confronts their past–no matter what it may have involved.

​When reading about life in Occupied France and under the control of the Vichy government, one often hears about the French Resistance, how seemingly every man and woman resisted in some way and contributed to the overall fight to free their nation. We read countless stories about their bravery, acts of sacrifice, and pivotal roles in overthrowing Nazi occupation of their country, and how they helped to bring down the Vichy government. This mindset is backed up by the many displays we saw in the Caen Memorial Museum, which speaks of their established history with the British SOE and how they helped facilitate the dismantling of the French railway system. Statues also cropped up in the small towns we would pass through in our travels. Great praise of the Resistance was expressed in the Airborne Museum, highlighting how, after receiving their activation phrase, resistance fighters had “risen up in their multitudes to bring about the end of the Nazi oppression”. The airborne museum struck me as a strange place to sing the glories of the Resistance, because the museum focuses on the U.S. soldiers of the 101st and 82nd Airborne Divisions and how they led the way in predawn hours of D-Day.

Now please do not mistake me, countless stories of French resistance are true, and many brave French men and women did pay the ultimate price in the pursuit of freedom.  Each time I came across a new accounting of how they did what they could, I was filled with awe and respect for their steel coated souls. I am moved by how, with limited arms, they harassed the Germans in an effort to  take an active role in their own liberation. 

Yet, the vast majority did not join the Resistance, nor did they participate in any acts of resistance such as passing out leaflets or sabotaging arms manufacturing. Many adopted a “wait and see” approach, while some chose outright collaboration and welcoming of Nazi rule and occupation. Reading the plaques and the museum accounts of the French resistance that have been peppered in generously while seeing little to no mention of their collaboration or indifference has been a running contradiction of what I’ve learned in my own research and other history courses I’ve taken that touch on the Resistance movement. This experience has led me to question just how do we as a nation remember, how do we come to terms with the portions of our histories that we would rather not deal with?

​ It seems that in order to bolster national unity and soothe the pride wounded by a crushing defeat, France has elected to praise the Resistance and to highlight it as the focus of their reimagining and retelling of the events, and to downplay the actions of those who collaborated and worked willingly with the Occupation. 

​I make this observation with humility, because I have never had to live under an occupation and I pray that I never have to. And yet I sense that what I have observed about French historical memory will stay with me long after I leave Normandy, and I will ponder just how we Americans reckon with our own past, especially the painful parts of it. I will continue to mull over this question, to seek out those smarter than me, to ask them their thoughts, and to ponder deeply why we recall and celebrate some parts of our history and deny or forget other parts.

Arromanches and the Artificial Harbors

Getting off the bus at the little town of the Arromanches was astonishing. We saw the great cliffs over the beaches and a breathtaking view of the ocean. I am happy to say that view made my trip. We entered the 360 theater at the top of the hill to watch the new and improved video about D-Day. The big screens with the civilians’ and soldiers’ faces on it gave me a sense of realism as it brought the people to life. I saw raw emotions from the liberated civilians and close up videos of cities bombed by the allies.

Our group took an impromptu visit to the new museum built in Arromanches, and it hadwonderful exhibits showing us how the allied artificial harbors worked. I learned about the three prototypes that were proposed before the initial invasion. Ultimately, the allies used a network of floating bridges that were flexible due to the tides, designed with metal rods drilled into the sea floor which were attached to bridges able to shift up and down staying in the same position relative to the shore. These piers were protected by a breakwater of sunken ships and caissons; sunken concrete chambers filled with water. In the museum they had a great display with a machine moving waves below a model of the prototype. 

After the museum, my fellow student Frenchie and I walked along the beach and found this beautiful fossil and washed up ashore. I was planning on having lunch in town but as soon as I walked on the beach I just couldn’t leave! Then we started walking and didn’t look back. The experience made me think about what the soldiers who moved supplies ashore felt as they went about their work. I can imagine they felt a new dawn arising with victory nearer each day.

Fossilized rock in Arromanches

At the Pegasus Bridge we saw the first building to be liberated in Europe! I learned about the men in the gliders seeing the exact spot where they landed. Only two men died while completing the successful mission to capture the bridge. I thought it was interesting how the middle glider landed last, meaning it most likely just missed the last glider by inches on short final. Also, the training their officer put them through paid off a great deal because if unsuccessful I can imagine this memorial would be a somber remembrance to the 90 men that landed just past midnight.

The first liberated building in France

Opening our tour in London was an excellent way to begin a month-long trip of learning. The sites of the Churchill War Rooms, the Imperial War Museum, the Bomber Command Memorial, and Bletchley Park put into perspective what the British people went through during the war. Going on this trip has been immensely humbling, and I am genuinely thankful for the opportunity to be present. I think the Imperial War Museum was by far my favorite place in England. This building had tons of history on display from World War I and World War II, telling the story of Great Britain and the Allies’ hard-fought victory against Nazi Germany.

One of the most moving and somber moments in the Imperial War Museum was walking through the Holocaust remembrance exhibit. The first room was filled with pictures and names of Jewish people before the war on Jews began. Displaying loving families and their pursuit to live everyday lives, as well as Jewish athletes and their accomplishments, really struck an emotional cord in me. Reading about the torture that these people endured through made me sick to my stomach that someone could do such a thing to another human being and feel no remorse. I read a letter from one of the German officers in charge at Auschwitz, writing home to his wife saying when he first started killing Jews on the trains was difficult, and he had to work up the courage beforehand in order to do so. After multiple times, he said that he and the other soldiers would begin firing at the Jews before the train car doors even finished opening. This overwhelming shroud of numbness that paralyzed the German soldier to the atrocities he and his peers committed showed me that war changes people.

The vibe that the museums gave off was more of a focus on all of the Allies coming together and helping Britain pull through to end the war, compared to the view in the United States with the “we are the greatest country, and we single-handedly won the war” mindset. Although I knew that the United States was not alone in fighting back against Germany, the standpoint from the English side made it more prevalent that it was a joint effort. Overall, my experience in London was both inspirational and moving, where I saw the tragedies of World War II overcome by the joint effort of all the Allies.

Elijah Bohman

Blog Post #1

Bomber Command Memorial

The Bomber Command Memorial was the most unique testimonial we visited in London. The memorial consisted of a tall statue of seven RAF fighter pilots preparing to go on a mission, surrounded by a Parthenon-esque building. The Imperial War Museum, Bletchley Park, and all the other places we visited were huge museums or giant landscapes. The Bomber Command Memorial, by contrast, was compact in size and presentation. but it packed a measure of history equal to its more expansive cousins. .

The memorial remembers the 55,573 Allied airmen who lost their lives while fighting under British command during World War II.  It does a great job of remembering them, focusing on the soldiers who died rather than what they achieved. In the presence of the statue, one gains a sense of the bravery these men demonstrated by entering into air combat missions at a time of extraordinary casualty rates.  The average bomber crew lasted only 12-13 missions before being killed, while they needed to complete 25 missions in order to rotate home. With chances like that, the pilots who served must have been incredibly brave to face such daunting odds. The great detail in the statue’s human features reminds one that these were young men that were thrown into war, leaving behind mourning family and friends.

The memorial bears an inscription reading: “The bombers alone provide means of victory” – Winston Churchill, 1940. This quotation refers to Bomber Command’s plan to bomb civilians and thereby break German morale and win the war.  These words sound triumphal, and suggest that the 55,573 airmen gave their lives to secure the Allied victory.  It is important to note, however, that Churchill spoke them years before anyone would know how effective the plan would be.

As it turned out, the original plan did not break German morale or produce an easy or early victory, and it caused enormous losses of lives and resources.  Some critics conclude that it killed innumerable German fighter pilots and civilians for little to no Allied gain, and even that Allied bombings could have been construed as atrocities under modern conventions of war. In stark contrast to Churchill’s words inscribed on the memorial, Bomber Command’s legacy thus was murky.

While the 1940 inscription might have been a bit different from the historical reality, I took interest in another inscription: “This memorial also commemorates those of all nations who lost their lives in the bombing of 1939-1945.”  In addition to the airmen who died, the memorial thus remembers those civilians on both sides who died in the bombings as well.  Looking at the statue, I am humbled at the sheer bravery of these airmen, and saddened at the tragic enormity of their losses.

On the day our group arrived in London, my first World War II related thought came to me at Russell Square, the train station that would soon become very familiar to us all. The train speaker reminded us to “mind the gap” as we exited the small, cramped train, and I immediately noticed how deep underground the station felt. There was no sign of sunlight, the tunnels were dark, cold, and seemed to stretch forever. This subway system, called The London Underground, aka the Tube, sheltered many London citizens during the relentless German bombing campaign in September 1940. It was surreal to imagine people sleeping on this exact station platform and the tracks down below 83 years ago, while Hitler’s Luftwaffe pounded London from above.

A Tube station in London. Many used these underground stations to shelter from the brutal German bombings.

Our group moved to the station’s stairs, where we climbed a few flights, only to be greeted by a pack of Londoners waiting for a lift (elevator) that would bring them up to street level. We were, in fact, far below ground. As we emerged from the station, I took in my first look at London architecture. The street had a mix of new, modern buildings that sat right next to old, traditional, beautiful architecture. This gave me the impression that as much as London progresses into the future, it values its history incredibly.

London embraces its history through conserving its old architecture, like this building.

We continued to learn how Britain honors its past through our visits to the Cabinet War Rooms and Churchill Museum the following day. These two sites are also located underground, beneath the Treasury in Westminster. The war rooms were occupied by Britain’s key government leaders and Prime Minister Winston Churchill. These basement offices protected the command center from German bombing and had the proper communication equipment to allow Churchill to broadcast to the British public and speak with U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt. In 2005, a part of the war rooms was transformed into the Churchill Museum, which chronicles his life and legacy in Britain. From visiting these sites, it became clear to me that Churchill led the British people bravely through the war, and he used his excellent speaking skills to rally the U.K. in desperate times. While World War II was considered a “people’s war” for the British, due to the sacrifices made across society, these two sites are concentrated on the British government’s wartime efforts.

This command room was where Winston Churchill met with his Cabinet. He sat in the middle wooden chair, often filling the unvented room with his cigar smoke.

The next day brought us to the Imperial War Museum in Lambeth and Bomber Command Memorial in Green Park. We could have spent all day at the museum, as it had many interesting exhibits. Admission into the Imperial War Museum is free, which is nice because it makes it easier for British citizens to visit and learn about their history. The museum’s World War II exhibit highlighted the war effort on the home front, how citizens of Commonwealth nations answered the call, and the impact of the United States entering the war. While the attack at Pearl Harbor was a devastating blow to the U.S., Churchill and Britain were relieved that their Western ally would now be fighting alongside them.

Britain was not shy to show its relief when the U.S. was attacked at Pearl Harbor and entered the war. Churchill said, “Being saturated and satiated with emotion and sensation, I went to bed and slept the sleep of the saved and thankful.”

The Bomber Command Memorial commemorates the 55,000 members of the Royal Air Force’s Bomber Command who perished during the war. It was unveiled in 2012 and its roof contains aluminum from a Canadian bomber that crashed over Belgium in May 1944. Different from the other memorials and museums we visited, the Bomber Command Memorial displays a somber reflection of the cost of war. To someone unfamiliar with the strategic bombing casualties, the memorial might come across as patriotically British, but the quotes engraved honor victims of all nations who were killed due to strategic bombing in World War II. As Allied and Axis bombing campaigns killed many, the memorial displays lessons from the war that must not be forgotten.

The Royal Air Force’s Bomber Command Memorial. Strategic bombing during the war killed many civilians and airmen, both Axis and Allied.

While many in London flocked to Buckingham Palace for the coronation, our group headed 45 miles north, to Bletchley Park. This small community served as the center of intelligence operations for the Allies and was secretly tucked away in England’s rural countryside to protect its operations from German bombs. Mathematicians, scientists, engineers, – and others were recruited to work at Bletchley, mainly focusing on deciphering Germany’s Enigma Code. The codebreaking work was tiring, and members of Bletchley Park were not allowed to discuss their work with outsiders. It quickly became a close community where romantic relationships developed. Many of the codebreakers are honored today, like Alan Turing, who was shamed for being homosexual after the war. The Allied intelligence efforts shortened the war by two years and saved millions of lives.

Throughout our sites, I observed many British citizens also visiting to learn about Britain’s World War II legacy. Overall, I think the British people take tremendous pride in being British, and World War II is a major reason why. The war showed their ability to sacrifice, adapt, and endure. As Europe was being taken by Hitler, the British refused to stand down and prepared to defend their homeland. Another takeaway from London is the tight alliance between the United Kingdom and the United States. Each location was not shy to mention America’s efforts alongside Britain’s to help achieve victory. Visiting London made me feel a closer connection to the people of Britain.

During my sojourn in London, I explored the city and learned a tremendous amount about the role London played in World War II, as well as the long-term history of London and its culture. 

I was highly impressed by how well the Churchill Cabinet War Rooms site was preserved, and thoroughly enjoyed walking through the displays. As I sat on a bench outside after my visit, an older woman sat next to me and as we chatted, she told me that she had lived through the war and remembered German bombers flying over her house. This bolstered my museum experience and reminded me that the people who fought in this war and lived on the home front were real, not just museum exhibits. 

The Imperial War Museum impressed me by its overall high quality, with displays focusing on World War I, World War II, the Holocaust, and a temporary exhibit about whether video games capture the reality of war. I found the World War I and Holocaust displays to be very moving. The World War I display was quite somber, showcasing the horrors of war and focusing on the soldiers’ experiences. Compared to U.S. museums, its tone and mood were not as triumphal. The Holocaust display was also quite moving, taking the viewer on a journey through photos of the 1930s and 1940s. It started by showing happy Jewish families, playing in the park and enjoying themselves, and thereafter moved into Germany’s descent into Nazism and the perpetration of mass murder. I found the way that I was slowly pulled into the story to be highly compelling, saying that human nature did not simply jump into committing atrocities but slowly marched toward it. 

Bletchley Park was also an excellent museum, displaying many huts where intelligence work was done. I thought that it was very intriguing in the way that it compared 1940s intelligence work to intelligence work today. For example, in one room they had filing cabinets full of notecards from intercepted messages, and right next to it they displayed a computer server which replaced these physical databases. I enjoyed the way that the museum focused on the 9,000 odd people who worked there and not just Alan Turing, as the movie “The Imitation Game” did. The displays showed these people’s everyday lives such as living accommodations and methods of travel.  

Aside from the museums, in my free time I hung out with various group members and saw the major sites of London. I visited Buckingham Palace and Big Ben, the Tower of London, Greenwich, the British Museum, the British Library, and some neighborhood pubs. Other than these attractions, I also enjoyed wandering the city and riding the Tube. Since the coronation was going on, London was different than I had heard it normally is with flags being raised everywhere. The overall impression that I got from British nationals with whom I interacted reflected apathy towards the coronation ceremonies. 

The Imperial War Museum in London was an amazing experience. The informative and interactive exhibits kept my attention for hours. A couple of artifacts from World War II I found interesting were the Morrison shelter and the Nazi eagle statue. During the blitz, London was bombed daily and the citizens needed protection from the unexpected attacks. The Morrison shelter was built as an easy access shelter for low-income families. Normally used as a dining room table, a family of four could theoretically fit below it to protect themselves from aerial bombardment. When I saw it, it looked like it would be comfortable for only one person and that person would be buried alive if a raid came and bombed the house. It made my heart melt to realize that people had to sleep in such shelters nightly for many months during the Blitz and for those that were trapped underneath.

The second piece I thought was interesting was the Nazi Eagle. Those who lived under the Reich and appreciated Hitler and his motives swore their life to it, but to others it was the devil in disguise. The Nazi Eagle was recovered by the British when Berlin finally fell at the end of the war. An emblem once hoisted high in the sky is now viewed in a museum on the ground. Remarkably, there is an accompanying video showing the allies breaking the concrete the eagle stood on.

Museums in Ohio have limited physical evidence of the war itself, and most of what they contain are American items. Visiting museums of World War II in Europe that are close to the fighting grounds sheds a new perspective on the conflict. I was astonished with the beautiful job the curators did to put the story together along with the accompanying artifacts. The Imperial War Museum has given me a new appreciation for the British perspective on World War II.

Imperial War Museum

The first part of our study brought us to London with its myriad museums, memorials, and other historical sites to study Britain’s history as it relates to World War II. But more than just their history, we also had the unique opportunity to understand the war from their perspective and how it is taught to the public today. One fascinating example came to mind while I was touring the Imperial War Museum exhibit about the defeat of France. I characterized Britain’s predicament as one of solitude and loneliness as they fought against the German army alone. But the British people were never alone. The museum showcased Indian, African, Canadian, and other colonial militaries that illustrate the Empire’s reach and diversity. The museum also showcased different recruitment posters from around the empire, which attempted to convey a sense of responsibility and duty towards the Commonwealth. Other views of the people, such as their “business as usual” attitude, came through as well. Part of an exhibit showcased quotes from civilians who lived through the Blitz, and it conveyed well their ability to keep moving under the pressures of war, although the disparaging quotes and some of the people’s unease towards the war was informative too and provided a counterargument to my views, a vocal human one no less.

Another enlightening aspect of the British museums, and almost an antithesis to American storytelling, was the focus on the populace and their struggle as an entire nation. The British portrayal throughout all of the historical sites was one of unity as every citizen played their part in the war. There was, of course, the military personnel who played their vital roles, but monuments like the Bomber Command memorial showcase the airmen’s sacrifice as a duty towards the country, not as a military conquest of an enemy. In the same vein, Bletchley Park’s 9,500 inhabitants worked around the clock crammed into huts to decode thousands of messages a day for the war effort. The Cabinet War Rooms also showcased this solidarity. Staff would evacuate underground in the war room to continue guiding the country and the war effort in the same devoted fashion as those in Bletchley Park. The “Peoples War” in Britain was alive and well in every facet of society, and the historical sites in London give me an unparalleled window into the hearts and minds of the British people as they look back on their country’s history.

Visiting Bletchley Park–and seeing first-hand the nerve center of British intelligence operations during World War II–was an incredible experience. I was unsure what to expect, but walking through was an adventure. Every building and most of the equipment on campus were the actual items used during the war. The museum was arranged amazingly well, and the purpose of every building was made clear. We saw small buildings like the meeting hall, where leaders arranged entertainment, and the lunchroom, where most of the 9,000 staff dined regularly. I also toured Hut 3, Hut 6, and Hut 8, where personnel conducted the tedious work of cracking the German codes. By using the interactive screens, I felt like I was participating in the decoding effort. Hut 11 had a different feel: because the original staff destroyed all their top-secret equipment at the war’s end, the museum had to reconstruct the facility based on the original staff’s memories and the few surviving photos. Hut 11A had replicas of the “Bombe” machine made by Alan Turing and his team. Watching the Bombe operate made me feel like I was waiting for outputs that would help us win the war! The machines made had variable inputs and outputs meaning there could be different values every time, making the first computer. After the war, these code-breaking machines led to huge advances in technology. Alan Turing went on to continue making strides in technology and drafting papers about computer intelligence, which is now artificial intelligence that is becoming a part of everyday use. 

Visiting the garage near the barracks provided new insights into the complicated logistics behind the codebreaking operations. I learned that during the war, motorcycle-riding “dispatchers” logged thousands of miles carrying thousands of vital communications between intelligence centers. So important was their cargo that the dispatchers were granted special privileges to race past roadblocks and to travel at all hours. By visiting Bletchley, I learned about the number of people who worked on the campus. My reading last semester left me with the impression that hundreds of people were employed there, but I realized during my visit that the wartime staff peaked at about 9,000—including 6,600 women, just over 73%. This out-of-town rural location allowed the compound to work in peace and not have to worry about spies and bombings. The secrecy of the location and meaning of their work was essential to the safety of Britain and was effective in passing useful information to the front lines. It allowed for almost 9,000 souls to coexist efficiently–to work, eat, and sleep together while maximizing space. 

I also took an interest in Bletchley’s monument to Polish intelligence officers, a fitting tribute to those soldiers who shared their anti-Nazi expertise with the British after their own homeland was overrun in 1939. The memorial reinforced the lesson that the Poles made significant contributions to Britain’s successes at Bletchley. Overall, the location hidden in the farmland was a crucial component of the war effort and its teams made major breakthroughs that affected the modern era.