I've been reading some blogs, news reports and pondering on D-Day. There is something profound to be written, but one nagging thought has bounced around my head all day: Seventy years since D-Day.
It's been 70 years since the Normandy Invasion. For those that don't know what that was, it was the huge Allied Forces push to start dismantling the Nazi hold on Europe. Thousands were involved and the accumulated forces were described as shocking by the German defenders that found the ocean lined with ships when the sun rose on June 6, 1944.
I won't go into detail about the outcome. The event is well recorded and the horror is something you can't imagine, until you read the recollections of those that survived the landings on the beaches of Normandy, France. Look it up and read all you can.
I was born a little over twelve years after the invasion. My father's peers were part of the invasion and most, at that time, were young, just getting settled into their careers and probably like most young adults today: Retirement was a passing thought and life was still to be lived as full as possible.
Those soldiers were the fathers and uncles of my friends. They were just ordinary people and the realities of what they faced never crossed my mind. They, like many that fought in WW 2, went on with their life; most just placing their experiences in the hidden nook, where uncomfortable thoughts are placed.
I'm trying to grasp the reality that even the youngest that fought are now in their eighties. It seems like yesterday they were young, vibrant and and found most everywhere. Everyone knew a WW 2 vet and, if they felt comfortable, they might even tell you a story about their experiences.
We can't forget them. When the entire world was torn with war, they fought for an almost intangible thing, which is slowly being removed. They understood liberty and they understood losing it only makes the removal of tyranny a more brutal endeavor.
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.