It had always been a dream of mine to revisit the World War II battlefields of Normandy. Since I had been planning to visit France in June of 2004, which was sixty years after the D-Day invasion, it would not make sense for me visit the sites any other day than June 6th. I was always fascinated by this era of our history being that we are what we are as a direct result of these events. I won't bore you with the details of the historical back ground, because I am assuming you were taught the basics in world history class. When I reflect upon my experiences it seems as though I have been traveling with an angel on my shoulder. I have been blessed to cross paths with people who make my journey far greater than I would have imagined before I set out.
 |
| Main Drag |
I left Paris early in the morning, from Gare Saint Lazare, I boarded a commuter train which would be dropping me off in the town of Bayeux, which was the closest town to the landing beaches. I had no idea how I would get to the beaches once I arrived. I figured I would improvise once I got there. Everything was going smooth on the train ride. The seats had their own compartments, similar to the Hogwarts Express in the Harry Potter movies. In my compartment there were five of us, including myself. It was an interesting combination of backgrounds. Across from me was another American, a Frenchman, and a German, and next to me was a lovely lady from Argentina. We were around the same age so we had plenty to talk about. When we arrived at the train station in Bayeux we went our separate ways. With no idea about the layout of the town, I did what I always do, walk. Bayeux was a charming little town. I walked around for several hours just to take in the sights here. In what seemed to be the center of town there were many small shops and little inns. Just about from everywhere I could see the towns cathedral poking out from the towns little buildings, so I decided to make my way towards it. The Notre Dame Cathedral (not to be confused with the Notre Dame in Paris), is one of the many Gothic style cathedrals in France.
After my brief visit I lounged for a bit at a sidewalk cafe to have a sandwich and a wine that hasn't been matched by any other I've had. After admiring all the picturesque features of this wonderful town, I decided it was time to figure out how I would get to the American cemetery and Omaha Beach. I stopped in a small convenient store to buy a bottle of water and to ask for directions. It seemed as though a family was working together in the store. They were very friendly, but I could barely communicate them with my poor French speaking skills. This did not deter them however, thy were very determined to help me.
 |
| Notre Dame Cathedral, Bayeux |
Out of all the English words there are the one they did know was Omaha beach. So, they picked up their telephone and called a cab company for me. What I had failed to consider was that this was a MAJOR event that I was trying to reach. An event that was being attended by the Presidents of France, Russia, the United States, and the freakin' QUEEN of England. How could I think that I would be able to get there with all the security in the world locking this place down?
 |
| British War Veteran |
Naturally the cabs were not operating at the moment due to the security that was in place. Regardless I was very great full of the hospitality of the store owners. Their kindness is one of the many reasons I get offended when people I know knock the French. Not having any transportation, I had resigned myself to the fact I wouldn't be able to make it to the beaches. "Oh well, at least I had a great experience here", I thought to myself. I made my way back to the train station; when I got there I decided to visit a pub at a hotel next to the station. In the pub I found a group of merry Britons. They invited me to sit with them, and we had a nice conversation. They were also visiting because of the D-Day anniversary. We had a great discussion about history, while drinking some really good French beer. After about an hour of merriment I walked to the platform to wait for the next train. It was when I arrived on the platform when I met someone who would help me get to the beaches, but I will cover that in Part two.
I had returned to the train station in Bayeux, France with my hopes dashed. I had not anticipated that a security lock down would prevent local transportation from taking me to the American Cemetery, at Omaha Beach. When I got to the train station with my tail between my legs I saw an elderly man speaking with a teen. He caught my attention because in a foreign land your ears immediately pick up on the voices of your countrymen. This is one of the instances that the angel on my shoulder made itself known. Out of curiosity I approached the man and he was telling the teens that he had been here before, sixty years ago. Recognizing what a privilege it would be to get a first hand account about the events that took place, I eagerly listened to the man speaking. After he was done speaking I greeted him, and thanked him for his services. He told me that he brought his Son and wife along to show them where his company landed during the D-Day invasion. He told me that he had land with the 1st infantry division (The Big Red One) during that bloody day. When he asked, I told him that I was unable to make it to the beach because the transit was not operating. To my disbelief, he told me to join his family in the ride to the beach. I could never have imagined that I would be so blessed with such an opportunity. The amount of World War II veterans is receding quickly, so I could not turn down this chance to have an eye witness account of the largest amphibious assault in World history. I gingerly followed the man and his son to their rental and sat in the back seat with his wife. On the way to the beach we passed through the beautiful country side. We passed small villages, and large chateaus. Before we arrived at our destination we stopped in the village of Coleville-Sur-Mer. There was a small museum there dedicated to the First Infantry division. The owner of the museum had found all of it's exhibits while walking on the beach where the troops had landed. In the museum there were many articles from fallen soldiers; helmets, uniforms, and remnants from the battlefield. We soon left the museum and several minutes later arrived at the American National Cemetery, overlooking Omaha Beach. The main memorial service had ended so we were able to get in relatively easy. As soon as we parked I was out of the car walking through the cemetery. There was a small ceremony I watched with a veteran presenting a flag to fallen comrades. Soon after I made my way down to the beach, through a maze of the infamous hedgerows. I found the beach easy enough, but getting back would be quite the opposite. My guide showed me where his company had landed and he described the event in vivid detail.
