Seventy years ago today in the greatest amphibious assault in history the forces of freedom stormed the beaches of Normandy to liberate western Europe. As a student of history, I studied D-Day from nearly every angle, but nothing prepared me for what I felt as I dug my hands into the sands of Omaha and Juno beaches, and peered over the cliffs at Point du Hoc. I stood in the German command bunker overlooking the approaches to Courseulles harbor and imagined what the young German officer in charge would have seen - staring into the face of a sea of ships.
Men died on the beaches, in the flooded fields, and in the hedgerows. French civilians died in the bombardments, from the shells of tanks, the assault of infantry. By the end of the day, Allied forces carved out a thin foothold on the continent. The communes at Courseulles and Berniers were among the first to be liberated. The film of the Canadians landing at Berniers is one of the iconic images of this, the longest day.
I wrote The Juno Letters to commemorate the sacrifices of all who faced that terrible morning. It is a small effort, insignificant in the scheme of things. When I think of what these men faced, I am humbled beyond words.
I had planned to be there today, but one of my foster boys graduates from high school today. I have to be content to know that The Juno Letters books are there in the museum bookstore, and my heart is standing with all those who served on the beaches in spirit.
God bless you.
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