75 Years Ago.

75 Years Ago.

The men crossing the English Channel whether by boat or plane knew what they facing. Some had been fighting the Axis Powers through Africa and Italy in the years leading up to this day. They knew that the enemy had heavily fortified the beaches. Every inch of sand and shale would be paid for in blood and lives. They knew...

75 years ago today those beaches and coastal villages were overcome with cries of anguish, encouragement, and orders. The smell of explosives, spent gun powder, churned earth, and death was everywhere. But they did not stop moving forward. They could not stop moving forward. They could not fail...

The days that have followed since are markedly different from THAT day. There are sunny, warm days. There are days dark with rain and gloom. People from the world over are drawn to those places along a relatively short stretch of French coast. They gather to remember, to try to understand, to be thankful for the sacrifice and courage displayed so long ago.

If you still and quiet enough, regardless of where you are, you can still hear them.

****

As many of you know, I take pause this day every year to especially think of my Grandpa Shackelford who landed on the beach 75 years ago today. He survived only to be wounded later on fighting in the interior of France. He first really opened up about it in 1984 on the 40th anniversary of the battle.

Fifteen years later, on a gloomy, cold day in January, I was walking that same beach. I was part of a college history trip
seeing various World War Two sites in Germany, France, and the Netherlands. For me, the key site was the wind swept beaches of Normandy. I kept finding myself moving away from the group, trying to put my mind's eye back to that day. Trying to ignore the monuments, the cemeteries, and the other signs of modern 1990's European life.

I never fully got there in my mind's eye. I was too flooded with emotion and I was too naive about what it was like. I was well educated about the event and the war. I could recite facts and figures; passages from letters, books, and diaries, but I did not understand the visceral, raw emotion of facing your death and still moving forward regardless. That came another 10 years later when I went to Iraq.

Then I understood.

And that is why I pause today to remember.

And so should you.