I never knew much about D-Day except the basics: the date, who landed where, that there were losses.
I didn't know what it looked like.
I didn't know there was so much concrete.
I didn't know how deep the craters were from the bombing.
Or what grows in them.
I didn't know that barbed wire laid by German hands still lies deep in those dunes.
And I never imagined how blue the water was below the cliffs.
Or how golden everything looks in the afternoon.
I wonder how it looked 69 years ago.
On June 6, 1944, there were between 15,000-20,000 casualties here. Overall, the Battle of Normandy claimed 425,000.
I'm not a war buff. I don't care much for the corny D-Day poems that many village hotels have plastered on their walls about returning grandsons and sacrifice. But it'd take a hard heart to come to this place and not be moved.
I am grateful for what I didn't have to live through here.