It has struck me before that WWII still permeates the rivers, valleys and cities of France, but yesterday's experience of Normandy was most moving. To stand at the head of the beaches at low tide, 69 years later, almost to the day, could bring you to tears. In fact, it did that for me. Even the weather was similar...the invasion was delayed because of a storm, and yesterday the cold wind was unmerciful, the sea choppy, just as then. But now it was quiet.
We took a special side trip to Utah Beach, not on our itinerary. This is where Kevin's father, Jim Culley, came ashore. He was part of a group of guys from Oklahoma and Texas... So they called themselves the "Tough 'Ombres" ... which could then include the Brooklyn guys. Kevin wore his father's patch on his hat and stood in homage at the site.
I was moved once more in Rouen, to see the site where this little teenager, Jeanne D'Arc, was burned alive in the village "marche." Now she is the soul of French piety. Even as she was relegated to flames, a soldier broke ranks and placed a cross he'd made of wood at her feet. I'm sure their eyes met. What words can express the agony of the powerlessness of people as they watched this desecration of justice?
I will try to understand how to add the photos. So far, no good! I'll have to eat some Camembert for comfort!
The emotions, tears and awe....wow~
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