Omaha Beach

 

We have a phrase that we throw away lightly: “Hell on earth.” We have to wait in an airplane on the tarmac for two hours? Hell on earth. We have to change three smelly diapers in the church nursery? Hell on earth. But the American soldiers of the Greatest Generation who waded into heavy fire at Omaha Beach lived those words. They bring shame to those of us who complain frivolously while living in comfort thanks to their courage.

Far be it from me to try to summarize this battle in a couple of paragraphs. Whole books have been written about the D-Day invasion, movies filmed, documentaries made. I can only imagine the fear the men felt as they approached the shore, accepting for the first time the reality of the horror facing them.

My father didn’t participate; he was with American troops fighting their way from North Africa into Italy and France. That doesn’t lessen my profound respect and admiration for the men who lived this nightmare. D-Day. Normandy. Omaha Beach.