A Visit to Normandy - Remembering D-Day and My Grandfather

This is a different type of post from what I've ever done before, but as it is the 70th Anniversary of D-Day, I wanted to share my recent experience in Normandy on our honeymoon and share some pictures and why it is such a special place to me. 

My grandfather, or Pop-Pop as we called him, was amazing...the way he used to dance around the kitchen while making the best pancakes, never missing Jeopardy or Hogan's Heroes reruns, the neverending supply of Jell-o Pudding Pops in their freezer, taking over kneading the pasta dough when my arms got tired, the smell of cherry tobacco in his pipe, his bedtime stories, and despite being mostly blind, he would always humor me by playing Monopoly with me whenever I wanted - and I NEVER cheated.  He was my first best friend and used to watch me when I was wee tyke before I started preschool.  He was patient and kind and just a remarkable man who loved his family dearly.  He passed away in 1999 after an illness that progressed much too quickly.  We were fortunate enough to be there at the very end and perhaps as traumatizing as it was at the time, I'm so thankful I was present for his last moments.  I've never really gotten over losing him.  I know he still is with me and I do talk him when I feel I need some comfort.

He landed on Omaha Beach in the first wave of the D-Day invasion on June 6, 1944.  And miraculously, he survived.  I remember one summer at the shore when Saving Private Ryan came out, we went to see the movie and headed from our house in Sea Isle to my aunt and uncle's in Avalon where my grandparents were staying.  They would split the week between the two shore houses.  I remember crying for most of the movie because I knew it was depicting something my grandfather had been involved in.  I was young and couldn't fathom the horror of war or what the scale of that invasion meant, so seeing it on the big screen was eye opening and frightening for me.  When we arrived at the house, I remember hugging my grandfather so tight and not wanting to let go.  How on earth was he here?  How did he make it??  How was I even here?  HOW??  He never really talked about it and for a long time, my family didn't know he was involved until a local paper asked to interview him for the 50th anniversary of D-Day.  The only thing I really know of his experience was that he was lying on the beach exposed all day trying not to get shot.

When I went to France in high school in 2001, we stopped at Omaha Beach and the American Cemetery in Normandy.  The cemetery was solemn and moving.  We were there in the early morning when they were playing the National Anthem just staring at the endless rows of stark white crosses.  At Omaha Beach, I collected some sand to bring home and distribute to my family.  It was a memorable moment in my life but looking back, as a teenager, I don't think I really recognized the connection I felt with the beach.

Later, when planning our honeymoon to France, Matt wanted to visit the D-Day beaches in Normandy and I readily agreed.  I wanted to go back as a (slightly more) mature adult and really focus on that moment and feel the connection to my grandfather.  We found a perfect day trip to Normandy through LinkParis.com to the Caen War Memorial Museum and other important D-Day sites - Pointe du Hoc, the American Cemetery, Omaha Beach, Longues-sur-Mer, Arromanches.  We traveled by train from Paris to Caen - only a couple of hours away by train.  We met our tour guide at the train station and joined a few other individuals and set off in our small tour van.  It was drizzly and overcast that day though the sun did make a few attempts to show itself.

We toured the Museum which was beautifully done.  The World War II section was designed in a spiral that began with the aftermath of World War I and took you in a downward spiral as Hitler came to power and put his plan into motion.  It ended with a video of the invasion including real footage from June 6, 1944.  I was desperately searching the faces for my grandfather, but didn't see him personally, but I could feel it...he was there and one of them. We had a wonderful lunch at the museum and were able to get to know some of the individuals in our intimate tour group - I had duck confit and white wine, pretty impressive.

Sadly, the American Cemetery was closed - thanks government shut down, so we couldn't visit.  Our tour guide improvised with visits to the British Cemetery and the German Cemetery.  It was very interesting to see the design differences between the "winning" side and the "losing" side, but at the end of the day, these are resting places for those that lost their lives fighting in the area.

The British Cemetery at Bayeux - the atmosphere here was one of heroic remembrance - flowers and decorations adorn the grave sites and memorials throughout the grounds.  Numerous visitors were walking around.

The German Cemetery at La Cambe near Bayeux - the atmosphere was more somber and very stark in contrast to the British cemetery with little groupings of rough hewn crosses. Simple plaques identify the graves.  The cemetery was deserted during our visit and that made it feel eerie and unsettlingly quiet. 

Next stop was Pointe du Hoc, the cliffs scaled by the Army Rangers who had orders to take out the German coastal gun battery.  The guns supposedly had range to reach Omaha and Utah Beaches.  Now, there's a monument and the ruins of the German artillery casements.

Ruin of an artillery casement.

The monument at Pointe du Hoc with the inscription in both English and French.

Inscription on the monument at Pointe du Hoc.

View of the cliffs at Pointe du Hoc.

Then it was time for Omaha Beach...my heart was pounding as we drove there and you could see the signs pointing the direction.  I was fighting back tears at different moments throughout the day...I didn't want to be that weirdo crying in front of strangers though I did explain about my grandfather over lunch.  Armed with a gallon sized ziplock bag, we walked past the monolith memorial and onto the beach, and gratefully the sun was trying to peek out.  I felt like I was caught in the waves.  I tried to isolate myself to let a few tears free and take in the moment in as much solitude as you can in a public place and remember the terrible events that occurred right where I was standing.  How scared they must've been but somehow able to demonstrate such unwavering bravery.  I told him I missed him and I loved him.  Then I went to find Matt and we collected sand to bring home and took some pictures.  I felt like I could finally exhale for the day. 

A sculpture commemorating the bravery and strength exhibited during the invasion.

"The Allied Forces landing on this shore which they call Omaha Beach and liberate Europe - June 6th 1944"

The monument at Omaha Beach with the flags of the Allied Forces.

Driving to our next stop at the German Battery at Longues-sur-Mer, we stopped on the side of the road so our tour guide could explain this church once used an observation point by German snipers.  It was nearly destroyed during the war and rebuilt exactly as it had been.  The large photograph in the foreground shows the destruction it endured.  I was really struck by the image and the rebuilding effort - the dedication to restore the church (and maybe a way of life) to what it had once been and reconcile the terrible events that transpired there.

The nearly destroyed church at Colleville-sur-Mer near Omaha Beach.

At the German Battery of Longues-sur-Mer, we were able to see the remains of the casements and the artillery.  The battery was completed just months before the invasion, and the morning of the invasion, the British attempted and eventually were able to take it out.

One of the casements at Longues-sur-Mer.

A large gun, still intact - what the casements at Pointe du Hoc probably looked like.

Aimed at the coast.

The day concluded with a visit to Arromanches to see the remains of the artificial harbor before heading back to the train station to return to Paris.

Concrete blocks that made up the artificial harbor.

Another view of the coast and remains of the artificial harbor.

It was an overwhelming, emotionally exhausting day though I think I did it to myself by setting such high expectations and wanting to focus on every single little detail.  I was hypersensitive to everything that day.  In hindsight, I'm glad I was so hyped up that day because it ended up being truly amazing, I will treasure and remember it forever, and of course, sharing it with Matt was so special because I wish he could've met my grandfather. 

I can't end this post without mentioning my other grandfather.  He passed away shortly after I was born, so I don't remember him.  However, I am just as proud of his efforts during the war.  He participated in the D-Day invasion a couple days later, as well as fought in the Battle of the Bulge and was awarded a Bronze Star for setting up communications behind enemy lines.   

So, D-Day - a turning point, the beginning of the end.  A remarkable display of bravery and fortitude by those in the "Greatest Generation" including my grandfathers, of whom I am unbelievable proud.  I can only say thank you and remember those involved in that day, for their bravery, service and sacrifice.  I felt closer to my grandfather that day than I had in years.  I can only hope that my pancakes taste half as good as his did.