Part 1: Normandy & Wales

Normandy was an amazing place to visit for a day. There is so much more to see there than I had the chance to, but the two places I went were both amazing. Most of you know of my love of history, and some of you know that I have a thing for World War II history especially. I wrote my senior project paper on the American airborne forces in WWII - and so studied the D-Day landings quite a bit. The 101st and 82nd Airborne divisions landed behind Utah Beach on D-Day, and their job was to secure the 4 causeway exits from the beach since the Germans had flooded the inland area. They were separated from each other by the drop, and most of them landed far from where they were supposed to, yet they still accomplished their goals through effective leadership, great skill, and sheer determination. Reading the accounts of different paratroopers from that day gives one the feeling that they were happy to have survived the crashes and filled with a great passion to avenge those who didn't make it. They had a death grip on what mattered most in the war effort and would not let it go. I wanted to see Utah, to see Carentan and St. Marie du Mont, some of first towns they liberated, and the hedgerows that made their tasks more difficult.

There are just not words to describe the hallowed feel of that ground - all of Normandy, for me, is a sacred battlefield. Yet, life goes on - it is uncrowded and beautiful, serene and yet full of life. I was amazed to see people playing on Utah beach - making sand castles and digging for clams, riding horseback through the white water and sunbathing beneath the same rise that still held bunkers and howitzers and now held several small memorials and a museum. It was a beach like any other beach, and yet so different. In my mind I could still see the shadows of ships anchored in the harbor, as far as the eye could see; I could see through the tears in my eyes men crawling up the long shore with guns outstretched - many of them never to make it; I could see the combat ensuing all around the hill I stood on. The echoes of D-Day are still powerfully there. At first I was saddened to see the beach had become a normal beach - to play on and laze about - but then something in me shifted and I realized that the men on D-Day knew exactly what they were fighting for: freedom from tyranny and oppression, freedom from fear. And nothing stands as a greater memorial to that effort than the very image of children laughing, grandfathers teaching their grandsons how to dig for clams, new lovers out for a romantic horseride across a great wide beach, and locals taking a Saturday break to stroll along the sand. These are living testaments to the sacrifices made that day, whether they realize it or not. I know that at Omaha, which I would love to visit someday, there are larger memorials and a cemetary along the sea - but maybe both memorials are needed - both the living and the steadfast stone.

Wales was an interesting trip. Out of money and finding out late that I couldn't get to where I was supposed to by train, I ended up taking the safe way out (after two less than safe nights I felt that was best) and staying in a town on the coast that I could easily get to by train. However, it was too far south of the place I was hoping to go, so the scenery was less than exciting (though, to be fair, still pretty.) So someday I want to go back and actually see the Pembrokeshire Coast. The good news is that I did get to see Bath from the train window, and have now been in every region of England. :)