Another week, another post.
We were fortunate again this week to take part in an excursion offered by our program to Normandie (the French spelling). After our 6:30 departure, we arrived at the museum at 9:30 ready to begin our day. The museum started with an explanation of the end of the first World War to adequately explain how Hitler and Mussolini came to power. And as you wandered through, it gradually told the chronological tale of how the war came to be. Personally, I am already a WWII fanatic, but there was still SO MUCH information I had never seen. It was also really interesting because, in general, the French are a very proud culture, and they are very wary of admitting mistakes (read: Algeria), but the museum was one of the first times I have seen the French profess failure. They acknowledged how half of their government gave over the Jewish population and the nation to the Nazis when threatened, and how it was by the help of the United States and Britain that they were able to regain their country. In general, I think it is so interesting to see how what we’re taught as American students is different than what French or Asian students are taught.
We thought two hours would be plenty for the museum, but it truly was not and we ended up not making it to the section on the invasion of Normandy before our required video. So for future reference: you need three hours in the museum. The video was good, but what I took away from it, and what I reflected on for the remainder of the day as we visited other sites, was how these soldiers knew they were running into almost certain death, but did it without hesitating. No one held back as the others stormed the beach. No one refused to be the first to climb the rope ladder as Nazis machine gunned them from the top. No one sacrificed their comrade for their own good. It was a day where thousands of men completely gave of themselves to save the world as we know it. That absolute giving-of-self was so moving, and was only made more moving by the American cemetery.
This part of the trip was initially exciting because we were back on American soil—something we were all very excited for. But we entered the cemetery and saw 9387 white crosses lined up over several acres, all shallow notions of America were replaced by the extreme pride and thanks we felt for our soldiers who came to save this country. It was a bittersweet mixture of sadness and pride, but an absolutely beautiful site to experience.
We then reloaded the buses to get down to Omaha beach. There, we had exactly 15 minutes to play in the sand where thousands of soldiers charged in the name of freedom up the cliffs towards enemy fire. Again, I just cannot imagine being there that day and seeing the cliffs full of Nazis and charging on selflessly. 
It is really eerie though, that these beaches are absolutely stunning today. If it wasn’t for the historical value, I’m sure they would be vacation hot-spots, but alas, who wants to build a giant sandcastle where a 17 year old soldier died? We did take a few happy pictures though, because the beaches are, I suppose a sign of victory and the turning point of the war, so some happiness should come from those beaches!
Next we went to Pointe du Hoc, which is a really interesting story. During the morning of June 6, a group of American soldiers called the Rangers were sent to Point du Hoc, one of the most well-fortified points on the Atlantic coast. The Nazis were allegedly storing French guns that had long enough range to hit both Omaha and Utah beaches. The Allies needed to take these guns out or risk them being used on the soldiers on D-Day. So the Rangers get dropped off (mind you, three miles from their intended target because of the current that day), and then look up at the cliffs where they now must climb up on rope ladders while being gunned down by Nazis. As if the task isn't heroic enough, once they get up there, their reinforcements don't arrive and they have to fight hand-to-hand combat for three days while they search for the guns, which had been moved to a mile away (and which they did eventually find). Sadly, only around 90 survived, but their tale is truly heroic. The area is pretty damaged from the bombs that the Allies dropped, but many of the bunkers and pill boxes are still in tact and we were able to wander through them while Kaitlin, our resident ROTC student, educated us on everything military.
Our last stop was the German cemetery. I thought it was really interesting that France has a cemetery for all the German soldiers who died. Even though it was small and very modest, there are twice as many German soldiers buried here as there were American soldiers at the American cemetery. And, there is more than one body in each plot. Very interesting.
So that was our day in Normandie. I really do think that it was a perfect place to visit while in France because it so well ties together my studies here and the culture I’m living in to my home. It felt really good to be American for a day and to be proud of where I’m from, rather than ashamed of my “obnoxious American-ness.” So with a full heart, I can honestly say that after this weekend, I am so proud to be an American.
