From Utah we drove to Point Du Hoc. This is an incredible stretch of limestone
cliffs that the army rangers scaled to reach the guns and fortifications
located there. Walking up to the cliffs,
you are literally surrounded by a Swiss cheese landscape of craters. These are the remnants of the bombing run
done by the allies, meant to drive back the enemy. The place is absolutely bristling with the
remnants of crumbling pillboxes, lookouts, mortar and gun placements among
other things.
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| General Eisenhower's quote about Pont Du Hoc |
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| Looking out on the bluffs today. |
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| The cliffs on D-Day |
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| Craters along the area. |
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| Bomb crater. This was as deep as I am tall. |
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| Gun placement |
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| Spotting den, we could actually go inside |
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| As close to the head as one can get now. |
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| Inside the bunker |
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| Looking out on the Atlantic ocean from this view is quite strange. |
This was all part of the Atlantic wall, a stretch of
coastline thousands of miles in the making.
This particular part in Normandy was reinforced by General Rommel in
anticipation of allied attack. Looking
down the cliffs, its incredible to think of how these men clambered up wet
ropes, hauling one another over the edge even under gunfire to capture guns
that had been moved back into the fields.
These guns could have hit their ships – and they were found primed but
unmanned not dozens of yards from one of the fortifications.
It is here I have to pause, because there is a certain aura
to this place. You walk down into the
dark catacombs – these pillboxes and bunkers and its very eerie. You know men fought and died here. Strange to say, the German tourists ahead of
us were not the most somber and solemn ones here. They were laughing, joking, clapping each
other on the back and smoking cigars within the enclosed spaces. It was disquieting to me and my family and
other visitors who were more quiet and subdued.
We walked up and around the concrete pillars, reinforced
iron twisted out of these places like coiled spaghetti. One emerges from the darkness into the light
and there is a lovely visitor center that explains the whole story of the
rangers who captured these tremendous cliffs.
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| Standing at the edge of Omaha, I didn't dare step onto it. |
Our next stop was Omaha beach, the largest and longest –
and the most famous of the landing beaches.
Dollars to Donuts, if you’ve seen a picture of Normandy, it’s of
Omaha. This is where the highest
concentration of men were set off from the sea and here too was the highest
death toll. It was surprising to me to
find that there is a town that’s sprung up all along the length of the
beach. There are houses, there are
restaurants, and there are tourist shops.
Like Utah, the beach is open to men and animals to walk upon. If it were me, I don’t know if I could live
here.
These beaches have been soaked with the blood of men, and
from that blood the seed of life and commerce grew. I suppose men fought and died to give such
freedom, but I would have preferred it be untouched. On the whole though, it was a quiet spot and
very solemn. I stood there a moment to
take it in. Here so many died. It's immensely sobering.
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| A figure at the cemetery. It is supposed to represent American Youth. |
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| Looking down at Omaha from the Cemetary |
We stopped at the American Cemetery at Omaha, which is a
sprawling complex much larger and more crowded than Saint James. Here like there, there is row upon row of the
honored dead, and also small islands of those who remember them. The spirit of American youth rises from a
memorial at the north end, a chapel marks the middle and to the east is the
beach and the ocean itself.
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| I think this says it all. |
Omaha also has a museum called the Overlord Museum, I
mention it only to warn visitors away.
If you are going to go to a museum in Normandy, don’t go here. It was crowded and chaotic, a mess without
any impact or meaning other than “This was here, and so was this, and this
happened” all bunched together. Not conducive to the experience of that place, especially after seeing the Musee Debarqement at Utah.
Looking down along Omaha, I had no idea what to think. It is an incredible expanse. Thinking about it now, I can close my eyes and picture what it must have been like to look out and see all those ships and men. I can see with my mind's eye the hundreds upon hundreds of bombers overhead dropping their payloads onto Point Du Hoc. The sheer magnitude of physical and emotional cannot be transcribed in mere words or even pictures. To the traveler, I would say you must experience it for yourself.
Our trip to Normandy was not yet complete however. We had one last stop that would finally put everything in a perspective I will not soon forget.
To be concluded in part 3.
