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07 Jun 2004
Yesterday was the 60th anniversary of D-Day, and the BBC had a fair bit of coverage of the ceremonies in Normandy, documentaries and so on. I'm no fan of war of any kind (past, present or future), but I have a great deal of respect for the people involved in the Second World War. The veterans are—as a general rule—extremely modest and self-effacing people, and yet they did an unbelievably difficult job, for which we owe a debt of gratitude. Watching them marching past the Queen in the final parade was incredibly moving. Even though most are in their 80s at least, and many walk with the aid of a stick, all straightened their backs as soon as they heard the band strike up, held their heads high and marched in step. One veteran who caught my eye (mainly because he waved cheerily at the Queen as he passed by) was dressed in a monastic habit1, festooned with medals. I'm sure that after everything the soldiers witnessed, life in a monastery would seem like a very attractive option. I really hope he found some peace for himself after winning peace for everyone else. I'm also no monarchist, but I thought the Queen treated them in a very respectful and sensitive way, and also gave what was—for her—and extremely personal speech of thanks.
After the ceremony, there was a harrowing documentary about the timeline of events leading up to D-Day itself, with the story told through a mixture of dramatic reconstruction, spoken testimony from veterans, and archive photographic and video footage. As I watched with a lump increasing in size in my throat, several things struck me forcibly. First, many of the veterans still have a very wry sense of humour about desperate events. One of the members of the 9th Parachute Batallion detailed with destroying the main gun battery which covered the beaches was asked by his commanding officer to join 'C' company, as they had lost so many men in the drop. He said,
C company was about three men, which struck me as being a rather limited force.
Second, so many of the men were little more than children. The King's Shropshire Light Infantry—who held out against a German panzer division for several days—were mostly in their late teens and barely out of school. What a thing to have to experience. Of course, no-one should have to see their mates blown apart in front of their eyes, but for these lads—from a quiet, rural area, full of farms and orchards—it must have seemed like Hell. Robert Capa's shocking photographs give a glimpse of what it must have been like, with the deafening noise and confusion, bodies tangled everywhere in the shallows, and nowhere to hide.
Finally, you got some impression of how people suffered—and continue to suffer—from the psychological effects of their time in action. I was stunned by a comment of one of the surviving King's Shropshire Light Infantrymen:
Those of us who survived are pretty selfish.
Just think about that for a moment. If they think themselves selfish, what must they think of us? We seem to have managed to squander the peace they bought us with their lives and their peace of mind.
On this day, 60 years later—as I watched old men close their eyes in pain at the recollection of that day; watched men ripped apart by shells and machine gun fire; watched a French man use the blood-soaked sheets from the slaughterhouse of Caen hospital to lay out a red cross, preventing Allied planes from bombing the building; saw the curled and faded photographs of young men who never got older—a warm sunny day was ending and cool breeze was blowing through the window. Outside, a blackbird was singing.
To all of you—Thank you.
1 I'm reliably informed by Mr. Bsag—who is something of an authority on which habit belongs to which order—that the man was a Franciscan monk.
2
ThoughtBadger: Yes that generation had a horrible time. Especially as WWI was supposed to be the 'war to end all wars'. It must have been heartbreaking to lose so many of the next generation too. My granny was also somewhat suspicious of Germans and Germany for the same reason. She died two decades ago, but I'm sure she would be appalled that we have a Krups espresso maker.
David: No, I didn't notice that. Mind you, the Queen is so short that it's sometimes hard to tell whether she's standing or sitting. 
The D of E saluted, though.
3
I was stationed at RAF Mildenhall in the late 90's as a member of the USAF and one of the great pleasures I had was marching in the local Battle of Britain parade every year. It was stunning to see the veterans and hear their stories. And we(!) were thanked effusively by local people who witnessed World War II first hand. Here I was, a 22 year old kid being thanked for sacrifices made 60 years ago.
It was an unforgettable experience.
4
ChrisS: Amazing. I can't help but think that people have really changed since those times. I blame Thatcher, but then I tend to blame her for everything from the weather to my toast getting burnt.
5
I visited the beaches of normandy with my father in 1981. Many , many thoughts and feelings went through my mind as I stood on the dunes of our first D-Day beach. I was totally unprepared for the emotional shock that I experienced. I won`t go into everything but one understanding was (perhaps) granted me. As we stood there, myself a middle class, white, well educated, baby boomer & very long haired hippie formed and launched by, among other things, the Vietnam war, and my father a veteran of the pacific war, a retired naval officer (up through the ranks) from the depression & education poor spanish speaking ghetto of New Mexico I believe that I got a glimpse of the magnitude of the events and the fears that formed & tested the people
by john @ 14/06/2004 6:06 pm • Permalink •
1
My father fought in WW2. He refused to talk about it when I was a boy, just said it was five wasted years. This attitude was doubtless influenced by the fact that at that time there was a considerable number of a type of witless cheery faced bore who would talk of little else, often despite not having seen much action themselves. Towards the end of his life however, he wrote a brief account of it, which was interesting for us his family.
However the generation I really felt sorry for was my grandparent's, who lost brothers and friends in WW1 and then lost their own children in WW2. I remember as a small child standing next to my grandmother as she sliced some bread with a new knife. She looked at it closely after a while, saw that it had been made in Germany and threw it straight in the bin without a word.----- I don't know if you noticed, but the only one of the world leaders that didn't stand up when the veterans marched past was our very own lovely ER.
by David @ 09/06/2004 7:07 am • Permalink •