Morning Thanks--a precious gift

 

It was taken by some unknown Army photographer, who snapped it and a thousand others that day, then went to the darkroom and sorted through the negatives. This one caught his eye for reasons unknown because that unknown Army photographer had no idea--well, he must have known, like everyone else, that something big was in the making; but that unknown Army photographer could not have dreamed of what exactly was to come just hours later.

He simply could not have known that the invasion at Normandy would require almost 12,000 aircraft and 7000 ships and landing craft. He could not have guessed that the troop total taken across the English channel on June 6 and a few days could number 326,000 troops. He could not have imagined that the vision for the next few days would be quite simple really--throw everything you've got at the Normandy coast in hopes of buckling Nazi strength and establishing a front that would eventually push all the way to Berlin, where some of these guys--or their buddies could take out Hitler and end the war in Europe. Throw it all. Throw everything.

There were others, of course, but the only guy in the picture that photographer shot and developed that day, the only one who honestly knew what was to come was the General, Dwight Eisenhower, who, almost as a surprise, visited his troops, the men ready for what was to come.

But the fact is, even they didn't know. The men in this picture might well have recognized that something momentous awaited them the next day. I'm sure that some of them understood that they would meet bullets that would shorten or end their lives. But the only one who knew the story ahead of time here was the boss, General Eisenhower, who had prepared a statement for the public should the whole operation fail.

That photograph, to me at least, is one of the most memorable ever taken because there's so much more that doesn't meet the eye. He knew, Eisenhower knew that most of the "boys" in this picture wouldn't see another dawn. He knew very well he was greeting a gang who would see and experience some level of hell neither they nor the world would ever forget.

It's not hard to be silent on June 6, even 80 years later. It's not particularly difficult to lose yourself in the stories of what happened that day, what all of us should never forget--that those men with painted faces willingly ran into a rain of bullets that would cut most of them down, many before they ever got to the beach. But they went, and about 4500 went down, 2500 of the men in the picture some unknown American photographer shot.

I don't care if our President seemed to falter for a moment in the middle of all the commemorative events, the idea of Donald Trump, good buddies with David Pecker, Stormy Daniels, and Michael Cohen, standing there in silence and awe and reverence is impossible to imagine. 

I'm glad Joe Biden hugged all those vets in wheelchairs, that he spoke to each of them, held their hands, listened to them pass along what wisdom they could. I can't imagine the other, speechless in the deep shadows of so much selflessness. 

This morning I'm thankful for him and the immense gift presented to us by all of those "boys," and hundreds of thousands more caught in that candid shot on June 5, 1944. 

I'm thankful for what was so selflessly given eighty years ago on the beaches of Normandy.