Normandy: These Embattled Shores

An amazingly beautiful drive through the French countryside brought us to the American Cemetery on the beaches of Normandy.  It was a sobering stop, but something we had to do.

After parking the car, I walked down a quiet tree-lined path that turned right into a open field, where I saw this... thousands and thousands of white stone crosses, lined up military style, as far as the eye could see, with a blue streak of the English Channel beyond.  9,387 of them, marking the graves of our own American men, many of them boys really, who came to this far away land to free a people they didn't even know, and keep us free at the same time.

Within minutes of being there, walking among the perfectly cared for headstones, my heart started pounding, and I couldn't help but cry.  It was powerfully moving!

I spent a long time just wandering, reading the names and home towns of these men, resting finally so far from home.  Was he a boy, whose mother sent him off to war wondering if she had taught him everything he needed to be a man on his own before she kissed him good-bye?  Was he a husband and father who's greatest treasure was the small snapshot of his wife and kids that he kept tucked in his pocket to look at whenever he had a moment?

I imagined all the prayers that were said by, and for, these men, these boys.

This was hallowed ground, and the spirit was strong. 

The gravestones face west, toward the home that these men loved and died to keep free.

 This is American soil - deeded to us by the French, and the American flag flies at half mast above it.

People were everywhere, walking slowly among the stones, whispering in hushed tones in every language.  Not just Americans.  Not just French.  Does the world remember what happened here?

Now and then I would come across a stone like this, marking the grave of an unknown soldier.  "Here rests in honored glory, a comrade in arms, known only to God" and my tears would flow again.

There was not much to say, but so much to think about.

There were SO MANY stones.  So many.  The further you would walk west, the more stones unrolled unto the horizon until there were rows of white crosses and stars of David converging into infinity before and behind me.

The lovely small chapel in the center of the cemetery was inscribed. "Through the Gate of Death May they Pass, to their Joyful Resurrection"

"I Give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish."

"Think not only upon their passing, Remember the glory of their Spirit."

Thank God for those who silently rest here.

In the pavilion is the statue "Spirit of American Youth" depicting the spirit of a young man ascending triumphantly into heaven. Behind min the word "Valor!" 

 Powerful!
I was so impressed with the perfectly manicured lawns and gardens of the cemetery, and grateful that our Nation cares so much to honor our own fallen heroes this way.

On the East end of the cemetery, an huge colonnade illustrates the operations of D-day and days after - a bold, necessary, and determining move on the Allied's part.

I am offended and appalled that our own president couldn't bother to take the time to spend an hour here on his recent visit to France.

On the edge of the cliff over Omaha Beach is a placard describing the invasion.  My own grandfather came onto the shores of Utah beach, just west of there on June 8, 1944.  He was one of a few in his group to survive.

The shores and white cliffs of Normandy were so lovely, so quiet, that it was impossible to imagine what it must have been like that day.

Dennis and I finished our visit by taking a trail down through the green cliff side onto the beaches of Normandy.  Nothing but a slight breeze and the slash of small waves broke the pure silence there.

Behind us the cliffs of Omaha beach showed no sign of the mighty struggle that occurred here 65 years ago.  I had a hard time imagining all those soldiers climbing those green cliffs while enemy artillery rained down on them.

  The inscription on the monument above states  "This Embattled Shore, Portal of Freedom, is Forever Hallowed by the Ideals of Valor, and the Sacrifice of our Fellow Countrymen."

Amen.