The Longest Day

Seventy years ago the longest day ended in victory. Planning for the liberation of Western Europe began months before the armada left the shores of Britain for the beaches of France. The perceptive suspected the war would come to this when Nazi Germany lit the conflagration.

The troops approached Normandy with a mixture of fear and determination. Many knew they would not return. They accepted their missions and did what they were asked to do. The rows of white headstones in military cemeteries testify to their sacrifice and preserve their memories. The gentle surroundings belie the enormities these greenswards once knew. The burial grounds have become pilgrimage sites. Families and comrades in arms visit to offer thanksgiving and to express the gratitude the living owe the dead.

War has inspired great words found in beautiful poetry and stirring prose. Shakespeare’s Henry V says, regarding Agincourt and all battles before and since, “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition; and gentlemen in England now-a-bed shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.” Those who came ashore on June 6, 1944, heard deafening cacophony. Their courage blended with their tears. Eulogies uttered decades later cannot do justice to the day. Loving-kindness dwelt among us.

Back home, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters waited for news of hope or news of sorrow. Instant coverage did not exist. Dwight Eisenhower released a pre-invasion statement (which appears on today’s Op/Ed page) and prepared a statement to be issued if the invasion failed. He planned to accept full responsibility for failure. Whether the day would end in victory or defeat, he understood that he would have sent thousands to their deaths. The supreme commander experienced absolute solitude.

Europe had waited for this moment for many unhappy years. Although it once proved Germany’s reliable ally, the Soviet Union bore the greater portion of the burden while the Western Allies tightened their grip on Hitler’s throat. The French endured occupation and paid a price when liberation arrived. More French civilians died on D-Day than did Allied troops. The French Resistance rose to the occasion. The circumstances united the Old World and the New in blood. Today’s divisions and disputes seem inconsequential. Humans have endured far worse.

The number of combatants continues to dwindle. When a new Congress convenes next year, no veteran of World War II will sit among the legislators. A flickering torch dramatizes an eternal debt. Seventy years ago, there sounded forth a trumpet that never called retreat. The repose that has settled on beaches and hedgerows once strewn with bodies sings a suitable hymn to the valiant who earned grace everlasting. As long as human beings value liberty, the longest day will fortify their resolve.