The American Cemetery at Omaha Beach

I’m a guy who gets worked up. Do you know that expression? As in Now, don’t go gettin’ yerself all worked up. That’s me. I get worked up when I hear children sing. Almost anything sentimental or touching will get me worked up. So, today I prepared myself because I planned to visit the American Cemetery at Omaha Beach in Normandy.

I knew it wouldn’t take much, and sure enough it started when I watched a movie at the visitor’s center at the cemetery. Actually it started days ago when I started watching D-Day videos in preparation for my visit. I am not sure there is anything as moving as listening to survivors of the D-Day invasion in 1944.

In memorial of the 50^th anniversary of the invasion, Lt. Al Astorsoll sat for a video interview. His recollection of details related to the Normandy invasion was photographic. As he told his story, he recalled his then best friend, Joseph “Punchy” Zettwich. On that day, Al learned that Pvt. Zettwich had been shot. Al assured him that he would be OK.

“I don’t think so,” Punchy told Al.

Lt. Astorsoll continued his story: anyway, Punchy died in the half-track on the way back to the division collecting company. In 1994 when we visitied Eau Chappell, I found Punchy (referring to the grave marker which read: Joseph P. Zettwich Pvt 506 101 Airbourne Division Pennsylvania 12/22/1944) (Pvt. Zettwich died in Bastogne, at the Battle of the Bulge).

Lt. Astorsoll tried unsuccessfully to continue his story; so he did what any old soldier does best—he steeled himself. He drew his breath and said: We talked.

One of many markers for unknown warriors

Like I said, I braced myself. The story of D-Day has 175,000 chapters. Of the 34,250 attackers, 9,387 lie in repose at the American Cemetery, 6603 of whom died at Omaha Beach. While walking among the markers, I remembered something I heard in one of the testimonials I saw. A widow was describing her reasoning for not bringing her husband’s body home when given the choice. She said, “He earned that little piece of ground, so I decided to leave him right there.”

The cemetery isn’t a sad place. The markers are testimony to courage in the face of terror. Viewed in its entirety, the cemetery is itself a proud army of warriors; warriors who, in the words of a surviving comrade, are forever young.

View of Omaha Beach from one of the many defensive positions

The cemetery isn’t a sad place; the beach is. As I stood on Omaha Beach I couldn’t help but think that life is timing. Sixty-eight years ago the very same beach was a place of carnage; ravaged by an enemy with the tactical advantage of high ground. Sixth-eight years ago thousands of men died where I stood. Standing alone, imagining that day many, many years ago, I cried.

One of the many inscriptions throughout the cemetery