I’ve been following the run-up to the 75th Anniversary of D-Day with great interest. For many of those who were there, this will be the last big anniversary they will participate in, or so the NYT tells us. While my dad had nothing to do with D-Day - he was in the Pacific - I still think about what it must have been like for him and all those who fought in WWII.
My father and grandfather joined the armed forces on the same day in February 1942. My dad was just 17 but since his father was also signing up, he signed a waiver to allow my dad to join since he would be 18 in a few months. My grandfather had been in WWI and his stint in WWII was reserved for stateside supply duty for the Army. My dad signed up for the Navy and the two of them went off for their respective service, not to see each other for another several years.
I can remember my dad - his face and expressions animated and his eyes drifting off to remember all the details - telling us of his first week in boot camp. It was the first time in his life that he had brand new clothes. He couldn’t believe that they gave him two pairs of new shoes and two pairs of new socks, not to mention all the new skivvies, pants, shirts and caps. I can still hear him telling me, “Bud, they fed us three times a day - and hot meals at that.” He, like most of his fellow recruits, were children of the depression and hot meals and clean clothes and warm bedding were luxuries they had never experienced. If you look at pictures of WWII troops you’ll notice that every single enlisted person was wafer thin, so having access to real food - including fresh vegetables and fruit, meat and eggs - was something new and exciting to these folks.
Cindy and I were touring the D-Day beaches and towns in October of 2013. If you remember the government was shut down for sixteen days and while we were aware of this fact, it never occurred to us that it would also have an effect on the D-Day area. We drove our car to the American Cemetery and the gate was locked. We got out and read a small sign that said that due to the government shutdown the cemetery was not open to visitors until further notice. We watched in great sadness as several buses loaded with veterans hoping to visit their fallen friends or family members were turned away, knowing that for many this was their last opportunity to pay their respects.
I hope that this year’s celebrations will not be marred by any political grandstanding and that those who are able to get back to the Normandy beaches and villages will be given the recognition and respect that they richly reserve.
Here is an article from the NYT that sparked this blog.
Best wishes, Cindy and William
