Compass

 

I have a hard time writing to you, such a notorious turning point in WWII and history, with heroic and devastating characteristics. But, I find it hard to write to anything else after visiting Point Du Hoc, Omaha Beach, & The Normandy American Cemetery. Then again, maybe I should clarify that I am writing to this part of you, based on my half day American-centered tour (as these sectors were taken by the America fleets).

Regardless, words can rarely be put to my experiences and that is particularly true of my time with you.

At Point Du Hoc I looked through the same slits of the observation dome that the Germans did when they saw you coming, only this time I was spotting one cargo ship at the end of the horizon.

I stood above this observation in front of the same monument Ronald Reagan gave a commemoration speech at only a handful of decades ago.

I looked down the four-mile stretch of Omaha beach halfway through high tide, which was roughly the waters point the day of Bloody Omaha’s conception, and felt the 1,000 deaths and 3,500 injuries in an entirely new way.

I looked up at the steep cliffs for the first time, having looked down on them at Point Du Hoc, amazed that some of the men used their knives as picks to climb up.

“Ever forward, leave no man behind” rang in my head as I envisioned the bloody waves weaving through the shore as men dragged their friends along in search of a way out.

My four hour study of you concluded at the Normandy American Cemetery. I walked in to find the spirit of the courageous men, which was said to have rose out of the waves, symbolized by a gorgeous sea-looking-god. I turned then to my left to watch the lowering of the flags, perfectly folded upon their landing and accompanied by an instrumental of our national anthem.

I was told that a father and his son were brought together to be buried in the cemetery.

I looked out over the massive grave site that laid before me and randomly picked an isle to walk through.

It was at this moment, when I stepped onto the perfectly cut grass and looked at the engraving on that first cross stone head, that I was hit with a dynamic emotion that immediately filled my eyes with tears. Atop the marble cross read, “Here rests in honored glory a comrade in arms known but to God.” I felt a swirl of things as I turned to the next headstone as if calling out for an explanation of what was happening or to find that I had merely misread the first.

It too, read the same thing.

Here lied two men, side by side, without someone to tell their story, no one to relate to their hometown and no carrier of any final requests.

And still, I can confidently say these men would do it all again in freedom’s name.

Every thought, feeling and experience from the last several hours, every history lesson I had received over my two decades, had been stirring until they finally culminated here. This ultimate resting place.

America had lost two of her sons, both of which she couldn’t even give a name to, only the date of their final breath (but never a date of birth, not even on the known soldiers’ tombs, so they might stay forever young).

I looked up to see my blurred vision filled with what seemed like an endless field of white dots, each marking a life. I knew that out there 42 pairs of blood related brothers lay their heads, but 9,397 American military brothers.

I shared a moment with my fellow Americans from New York to Iowa to Washington, Douglas, Clement, John and the others, paying them the only homage I knew how to give in this situation: my honest emotion and complete dedication of time.

The fighting done in lower Normandy is what finally granted France her freedom and you were the beginning of this. Though many people know you for your delivery on June 6, your battle lead on throughout Normandy for an additional 99 days.

I am so proud of you; American, British, Canadian, and French sectors included.

May I never go a day without appreciating your unique determination and perseverance.

Everything seemed to go wrong the morning of your departure, so I don’t think planning and organization can be accredited for this victory. Rather, it was the boldness, persistence, strict determination and profound belief in freedom that pushed you against all odds, against all atrocities.

You are my new favorite history lesson.

 

“We too born to freedom and believing in freedom are willing to fight to maintain freedom. We and all others who believe as deeply as we do would rather die on our feet than live on our knees.” –Franklin D. Roosevelt

 

You undeniably lived that out.

Thank you will never be enough, to you and each and every comrade in the fight for freedom.

Riley Makenna