La Normandie

Wednesday morning at 08:00 we boarded a bus and were off to Normandie. Personally I love bus rides. It's a brilliant way to see the countryside—huge windows! I'm not sure if "excited" is the best word to describe how I was feeling about going to Normandie, but I was certainly looking forward to it. I'd been wanting to go for years, but was never able to make it, so the anticipation of finally getting there was definitely present.

Our first stop was at Le Mémorial de Caen, where we watched a film about the D-Day landing, and proceeded to spend the next few hours going through the museum that encompassed before, during and after World War II.

I've taken quite a few classes on The Holocaust and World War II, and have read countless books on the subject, but it's impossible to ever know everything...and even the stories and facts that I do know, I found myself rereading at the museum, because the details are just so vast. This particular era in history has always resonated with me, and I find that I can never learn enough about it. Even before we left Paris, I was e-mailing back and forth with my mom to make sure I knew everything she did about our family during the war. Fortunately, most of my family was out of Europe by the early 1900s, but we did have distant relatives who perished in the Holocaust, or so we assume, since no one ever heard from them again.

After the museum we drove to Omaha Beach. The American Cemetery and Memorial was breathtaking, in both ghostly and magnificent senses of the word. The headstones seemed to go on forever, and it wasn't until I was walking in the midst of the crosses and the Stars of David that I realized how many men had actually died in this war...and this memorial was barely even a fraction of the deaths.

I can't really explain the emotions that were shooting through my mind: it was all a daze, and the only thing I wanted to do was cry. Of course, this didn't happen because I am quite often incapable of crying, so I simply continued wandering, thinking about the numerous stories of these soldiers that no one will ever know. I didn't want to leave the cemetery, but we were on a time constraint, so I headed over to the walkway overlooking the coast, ran into Andrew and we descended to the beach.

The water was absolutely gorgeous, and the colors were unlike any beach I've ever been to. I ran to the water, got the bottoms of my pants wet (although Kelly wins for actually falling in the water), but the soggy bus ride ahead of us didn’t matter--we just ran around.

Maybe it's silly to feel this way, but I felt slightly disrespectful for having such a good time at a place where mass warfare had occurred. However, I thought of my grandfathers who had both fought in the war and I realized that they wouldn't want me to dwell on their hardships. They would want me to enjoy what they fought for, and not brood about the past.

I had promised my high school U.S. History teacher (a Vietnam veteran) that I'd bring some sand home for him, so I filled up my empty water bottle and headed back up with everyone else.

Next, we were off to Point du Hoc, another point of attack by the U.S. Army during Operation Overlord. Many of the original fortifications are still in place (I climbed through some of them, and there were quite a few that were the perfect height for a little person like me...). There are tons of bomb craters (which always makes me wonder how grass and flowers can ultimately thrive again after so much violence). The size of some of the bomb craters were absolutely enormous, but the cliff was incredibly peaceful.

And then, the surprise of the day—a cider tasting! A tour of the farm and then lots to drink (and cookies)!

À bientôt!
Lesley