Their Finest Hour
73 years ago, today began with a sunrise. Although I wasn’t there to see it, I’m sure it was beautiful; the golden rays peaking over the horizon, slowly bathing the constructs of man in a plethora of splendid light. I’m sure it was serene, very much like the sunrise that we were all lucky enough to have experienced this morning. I’m sure at the sight of daybreak, the young men of 73 years ago were filled with hope and anticipation, just like the young men who were awoken at first light today; the concept of new opportunities the ultimate catalyst for invigoration. A dawn that brought a renewed chance for something great, shared across the passage of time. However, unlike the young men of today, who roused from sleep to face a world largely peaceful, the young men of 73 years ago rose to face a universe plunged into darkness. But still, I do not doubt they felt hopeful.
On June 6th, 1944, somewhere between 130,000 and 156,000 men of many different homes landed on the coast of the French region of Normandy. Their mission was the impossible: establishing a friendly foothold on a continent embalmed by the poison of Adolf Hitler and the Third Reich. It was known as Operation Overlord: the Allied invasion of Europe. Standing in the men’s way was a menacing enemy who was better equipped, better supplied, and fortified in their positions. Despite a pre-emptive aerial campaign to wreak havoc on the enemy’s supply routes and the landing of 24,000 airborne troops to soften the defenses, the invasion stared down inconceivable odds against success. It was an endeavor soaked in the bile of despair. And yet, at 6:30 a.m. on Tuesday, June 6th, 1944, the men trudged forth into the jaws of hopelessness, the opportunity of a new sunrise glistening in front of them. For 12,000 of them, it would be their last.
By the time I was born, my grandfather was already showing signs of Alzheimer’s disease. He was a stern man, tall and wispy when I knew him, but from pictures, I know he was once a burly pile of American muscle. To my understanding, he served in World War II as a munitions truck driver. He would go where they needed him, sometimes driving an entire length of the front just to resupply some of his brothers with the extra lead they so desperately needed to wage war. As I matured, I became fascinated with history, especially the wars my country had participated in, and knowing my grandfather had fought in one of the most famous of those conflicts piqued my 14-year-old curiosity. Now, my father always told me that I wasn’t supposed to ask soldiers about their service, but one time I was alone with my grandfather and I just couldn’t help myself.
“What was it like?” I asked. “Weren’t you scared that you would die?”
I remember my grandfather, in a surprising moment of lucidity, looked up at me from the bed he was confined to (the Alzheimer’s had progressed quite a bit, and it seemed like he was always sick) and smiled at me.
“I was always scared,” he said, “but I knew if we didn’t stop the Nazis then, then my son’s sons would have to finish the job. It was for the people that would come after us. It was for you.”
My grandfather died eighteen days after my fifteenth birthday.
So, to the men who landed on the beach 73 years ago, I don’t salute you, because frankly, I don’t deserve to. I haven’t felt the steel of a landing craft underneath my boots, or watched the ramp come down onto the sand of a foreign country. I’ve never had to take a life for my country, nor have I felt the fear that comes with knowing my end is just around the corner. I’ve never wiped away the spray of an ocean awash with my brother’s blood or shouldered the burden of a bleak future. I’m afraid all that I am capable of offering is my meager thanks, and my sincerest pledge that I will do everything in my power to avoid wasting the opportunity you bought me at the greatest cost. I know it’s not much, but it’s all I have to offer right now.
Today is June 6th, 2017. 73 years ago, young men around our age gave us a future. Remember them, even if it’s all you have the power to do right now.
To finish, I present you with this quote. The Soldier’s Poem, attributed to PFC. James A. Donahue, USMC. 1st Marine Division, H Company, 2nd. Battalion, 1st. Regiment:
“And when he gets to Heaven, to St. Peter he will tell “One more soldier reporting, sir, I’ve served my time in Hell.””.
Image via Shutterstock
Fuck this was better than the one I wrote.
8 years ago at 4:47 pmGod bless America and the greatest generation that ever lived.
8 years ago at 4:51 pmsdsss
8 years ago at 2:04 pm▬▬▬▬▬☛O
just before I saw the paycheck which was of $9068 , I did not believe …that…my father in law was like they say actually taking home money in there spare time on their computer. . there brothers friend haze done this for less than seven months and at present paid the loans on there apartment .. .★★★◕◡◕◕ ◡◕◕◡◕____BIG…..EARN….MONEY..___❥❥❥❥❥❥❥-</b
Thank you for this well written piece Ironsides. I think a lot of us on here can relate to hearing stories from the veterans in our families. They always help put life in a better perspective. Cheers to the greatest generation
8 years ago at 4:56 pmThe dday operation was almost a complete failure. The first few groups to land had more than 90% fatality rate. A lot of very young and very brace men were sent to their slaughter. RIP.
8 years ago at 5:17 pmYou can’t say it was a failure because the first ones to arrive on the beach were mostly killed. They knew full well going in that it was going to be a blood bath. The goal was to stop Hitler, the fascist takeover of western civilization, and ultimately the destruction of freedom in the world. Soldiers going into battle knew the cause, and that it was a cause worth giving their lives for. The operation was a success because the goal was accomplished, not because it was easily reached.
8 years ago at 5:54 pmThe initial wave of airplanes bombs was supposed to clear the beach. All of the bombs missed in the fog. The rockets fired from the ships didn’t even make it to shore. The beach was supposed to be clear. Instead Rommels defenses were ready and effective. Many port towns were not won by the allies until much later in the war.
8 years ago at 2:29 pmThis shouldn’t be getting lapped. Those men that hit the shores first went into certain death. And it would’ve been a failure had those men not set the line for all those that followed them onto the beaches of Normandy. A lot of brave and honorable men did walk to the slaughter but draft or no draft they weren’t sent. They stared death square in the face and chose freedom over fear. There’s nothing more American or more honorable than that.
8 years ago at 7:22 pmFuck this was beautiful. God bless America and god bless the brave men who gave their lives for freedom.
8 years ago at 6:04 pmShit dude this was beautiful.
8 years ago at 6:54 pmI’m a Jewish American/Canadian. I very literally would not be alive right now were it not for the sacrifice these boys made. I always try to do whatever little thing I can for the veterans of both countries but there’s nothing I can do that comes close to what the Marines and Paratroopers did for me that day. I can’t ensure their survival like they did mine. I say this for one simple reason: every single one of us has a story like this. And even though we can never come close to fully repaying those that died and were willing to die for us we should do everything we can to ensure that our veterans get the life a hero deserves.
8 years ago at 7:17 pm“The Longest Day,” is an old movie about D-Day thats on netflix. It is probably the best d-day movie ever made since a lot of the actors in it participated in WWII. That movie and some Kentucky bourbon will give you a patriotic boner like you’ve never experienced.
8 years ago at 8:53 pmNot that any thanks is asked, but there were no shark attacks off that shore on that day.
8 years ago at 8:32 amThis gave me chills.
8 years ago at 5:13 pm