Rather than go into numeric details, I want to reflect on the human drama of that day and the many days that followed.
I first saw the film Saving Private Ryan in a movie theatre. I'd seen many war films prior to that, but I wasn't prepared for the intense and horrific first twenty minutes of that film. Men who have been in battle said that was the most realistic battle footage ever portrayed by actors in a movie. The hairs stood up on my back and my heart pounded in my chest as I watched. I almost began to cry right there in the theatre.
My emotional reaction was not merely to the sheer terror of the action portrayed, but I vicariously participated in the action with those soldiers. Yes, those were just actors on the screen - but it all happened for real on that morning in 1944.
The soldiers, sailors and airmen who participated in the Normandy invasion are often referred to as 'boys.' I understand that's a term of endearment and that many of them were quite young. Whatever state of boyhood remained in those soldiers, they were all men that morning as they set their faces forward and entered the jaws of hell.
In all the D-Day commemorations that take place year after year, much is said about the supreme sacrifice those men made for America and for liberty. When those men enlisted (or were drafted) and for the survivors later, perhaps they thought about America, liberty, the battle against fascism and the future of civilization. But as I've heard so many war vets explain, in the midst of battle soldiers are mainly thinking about their fellow soldiers and the mission at hand; there's a deep love for their brothers-in-arms and a job to do.
Those soldiers landing on the French beaches knew beforehand that a great many of them wouldn't survive. It's true young men assume they'll live forever and no doubt each of those men had hope they'd come through the battle ahead alive. But they had to know the odds were long. And yet, those brave, brave men swallowed their fear and stepped forward into a rain of bullets and shells, picking up their wounded comrades on the way, soon covered with blood and grime.
One other thing - after the D-Day commemorations are finished we move on with our lives. In 1944, June 7th didn't bring a return to normality for those men. There were many days of tough fighting ahead. Many who survived D-Day would die in the months and battles that followed. There would be the Battle of the Bulge in the fiercely cold winter days of December 1944 to January 1945 - a last ditch effort by the Germans to turn the tide of the war back in their favor. The war in Europe wouldn't finally end until early May 1945. On the other side of the world the brutal fighting against the Japanese would continue until August of 1945.
When I think of the men who fought in World War II, I'm filled with gratitude and admiration.
Dear God in heaven, whether they were aware of it or not, whether they were Christian or not, these men followed the example of your Son Jesus Christ by laying down their lives for their friends; thank you for their sacrifice and may their souls rest eternally with You.
No comments:
Post a Comment