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My dad landed on Utah beach in one of the secondary waves in WWII. He fought all the way from Normandy and through all the major battles until the end of the war.
He talked about his experiences a lot when I was growing up. He often said he wanted to go back and see the places. So in 1989, my dad, mom and I spent almost three weeks in France, Luxembourg, Germany and Belgium doing just that. At first they were going to go by themselves, but my mom asked if I would go so that I could do the driving and my dad also asked if I wanted to go. It turned out to be a unique and amazing experience.
In Normandy there is, of course, the huge cemetery.
We went to a small museum that had been a German coastal bunker. When my dad told the person there that he had been in the war, the person treated him like an honored guest and presented him with a nice certificate that had been signed by the mayor.
There was also the beach.
Here are some things to do there:
https://destinationwwii.com/best-d-day-sites-to-visit-in-normandy/
I also enjoyed small towns and local cuisine. The people were really nice.
Wow! You're so fortunate to have a father that went through that and lived and then tour it all. Did he share much of his stories? Rarely could I get a WWII solder to share much, one directed me the book he wrote and said "read this".
I really appreciate that about the French, I'd seen the stories where to this day they go and lay flowers and such on the graves, for some of the men they saw their lives pass away.
I'm going there soon with a few days to explore and a car. I'm hoping can impress some of this on the kids, it's a little harder for them to relate to.
Thank you for the link!
My dad served as a "runner" taking messages from to and from the front ling and forward command. It was supposedly one of the most dangerous jobs. He got wounded twice. But yeah, it's a miracle that he made it through every major battle all the way to the occupation of Germany.
He did tell stories. What's interesting is, he made a lot of them sound like a lark. "Boy, was I scared. chuckle" It was until I got older that I realized how fucking insane some the stuff he talked about was.
He wanted to visit one particular grave. The captain of his unit, Captain Kenyon, had been killed by an 88 shell when they were all in a stone farmhouse. My dad loved that guy.
We found the small cemetery. It was immaculate, just like all American military cemeteries. No other visitors were there. The man working there didn't speak much English but he was extremely respectful.
He took us out of the office and over to a bunch of red rose bushes. He cut a perfect, long stemmed rose. He also picked up a small pail of damp sand and a rag.
He took us right to the Captain's grave, rubbed the golden sand into the engravings on the cross, and cleaned it up real nice. The sand allowed the camera to distinguish the engraved words. Then he stood the beautiful rose up against the cross and stepped back. We took a couple of photos.
It was very touching. I think my dad fulfilled a bucket list item by paying homage to his beloved captain.
Gold, Juno and sword beach. Maybe see some Norman castles too. Some of the English Kings snd Queens are buried in Normandy.
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