 |
| The assault phase of Operation Overlord was known as Operation Neptune. Operation Neptune began on D-Day (6 June 1944) and ended on 30 June 1944. |
Reading for today, from The Last Longest Day by Richard Fernandez:
...It was an all-out throw of the dice. A maximum effort. There was no plan B if it didn't work. Had it failed, Eisenhower would have said: "Our landings have failed and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based on the best information available. The troops, the air and the Navy did all that bravery could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt it is mine alone." The consequences of defeat would have been incalculable....Read the rest HERE. Worth your time.
[...]
...It is for the current generation to decide whether to build a new dark age of universal surveillance or one of expanding freedom. It is for the present to decide whether to succumb to new cults or keep the flame. The men of the Longest Day have done their job. Only the living can still make history. The past has already made it.
 |
| The American military cemetery in Normandy, 2003 |
Claude and Kenneth, two of my cousins, served on the beaches of Normany during Operation Overlord — one cousin in the US Army and one in the US Navy. They were 19 and 21 years old. Miraculously, they both came home physically whole. But psychologically, Claude and Kenneth were forever changed and never again slept through a night without nightmares. Both of my cousins died young, one at the age of 39 and the other at the age of 44.
A REMINDER OF WHY WE FOUGHT AND SACRIFICED SO MANY LIVES. LOVE OF FREEDOM and LOVE OF COUNTRY. WITHOUT THOSE THINGS WE MIGHT AS WELL BE DEAD ANYWAY.
ReplyDelete_____ AMERICA _____
1. My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From ev'ry mountainside
Let freedom ring!
2. My native country, thee,
Land of the noble free,
Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills.
My heart with rapture thrills
Like that above.
3. Let music swell the breeze
And ring from all the trees
Sweet freedom's song;
Let mortal tongues awake;
Let all that breathe partake;
Let rocks their silence break,
The sound prolong.
4. Our fathers' God, to thee,
Author of liberty,
To thee we sing;
Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light.
Protect us by thy might,
Great God, our King!
Text: Samuel F. Smith, 1808-1895
Music: From Thesaurus Musicus, London, 1744 [known in England as “God Bless Our Native Land” here in the United States as “America”]
When was the last time yu heard anyone sing that? I can't remember the ;ast time, myself, and yet when I was in school we used to sing it ALL the TIME.
God bless all who fought, especally those who died to preserve our sovereignty and our ideals, but they will have sacrificed in VAIN, if WE fail to do what we MUST in order to remau WORTHY of their great sacrifice.
Cornelius Gale Onderdinck, III said
DeleteTrump’s Great D-Day Speech
Washington Free Beacon
by Matthew Continetti
President Trump gave one of the best speeches of his presidency while many Americans were brushing their teeth. His remarks at the seventy-fifth commemoration of D-Day at the Normandy American cemetery in Colleville-sur-Mer, France, were gracious, moving, poetic, and delivered in a time zone six hours ahead of the East Coast.Which is too bad. The address deserves a wide audience not only for its content but also because it fits into the larger themes of this presidency. Speaking from what he described as "Freedom's Altar," Donald Trump once again made the case for reviving America's national spirit,
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers ––
ReplyDelete___ untouched by Morning
______ and untouched by Noon ––
Sleep the meek Members
___ of the Resurrection ––
Rafter of Satin
___ and Roof of Stone.
Light laughs the Breeze
–– in her Castle of Sunshine ––
Babble the Bee ––
___ in a stolid Ear.
Pipe the sweet Birds
___ in ignorant Cadence
Ah! what Sagacity
___ perished here!
Grand go the Years
___ in the Cresent above them ––
Worlds scoop their Arcs
___ and Firmaments row ––
Diadems drop,
___ and Doges surrender ––
___ ___ soundless as Dots
________ on a Disc of Snow.
~ Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
Miraculously, they both came home physically whole. But psychologically, Claude and Kenneth were forever changed and never again slept through a night without nightmares. Both my cousins died young, one at the age of 39 and the other at the age of 44.
ReplyDeleteWar changes those who participate in it forever. It has always been thus. It is something that those who send young men and women to war never comprehend; most who send young men and women into that cauldron have never served themselves. Sometimes, war is necessary or inevitable. Too many times in our country’s history, our politicians have squandered these precious lives for no good reason at all. “In the national interest” has become a bromide mumbled by some privileged class of moron who also never served. Damn them all. War must always be the last resort. We must never forget these sacrifices made to protect, preserve, and defend our way of life. If ever we do forget, if we ever dismiss the great deeds and sacrifices of such men and women, if we ever consign these great battles to the dustbin of history, then we will no longer deserve God’s blessings of life, liberty, or happiness.
"Damn them all."
DeleteAmen.
WWII was the last "good" war. It was for a righteous cause, and we didn't pussyfoot around.
Until we learn once again to only fight only for a righteous cause and go full General Sherman on their asses, we need to stay home.
I served in Afghanistan. It ain't worth one more American cent or one more drop of American blood.
________ THANATOPSIS* ________
ReplyDelete______ To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;—
Go forth, under the open sky, and list
To Nature’s teachings, while from all around—
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air—
Comes a still voice—
______ Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix for ever with the elements,
To be a brother to the insensible rock
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.
Yet not to thine eternal resting-place
Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world—with kings,
The powerful of the earth—the wise, the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,—the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods—rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old Ocean’s gray and melancholy waste,—
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes of death,
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom.—Take the wings
Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound,
Save his own dashings—yet the dead are there:
And millions in those solitudes, since first
The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep—the dead reign there alone.
So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw
In silence from the living, and no friend
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come
And make their bed with thee. As the long train
Of ages glide away, the sons of men,
The youth in life’s green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron and maid,
The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man—
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,
By those, who in their turn shall follow them.
So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, which moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
~ William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878)
_____________________________________
* Thanatopisis means A Consideration of Death
My father, like most WW2 veterans, spoke very little of his service during that war. He served 47 years, beginning in the mounted cavalry as a sergeant, then as a pilot in the Army Air Corps, then as a Flight Surgeon in the AAF and Air Force.
ReplyDeleteHe flew B-17s out of Britain until he advised the Army that he had a medical degree, at which point they detached him to serve a six-month internship and attached him to the Medical Corps. He was still in Britain and, being bored, volunteered for an unknown mission which was described as "interesting and probably involving some danger." It turned out to be serving on an LST to Normandy Beach to tend wounded on the return to England on June 6th. He described his experience of reporting to the ship when I joined the Navy.
He made six trips Eastbound, but only five Westbound, as he wound up being attached to an infantry division, and later to Patton's army. He did not return to England for more than a year.
Incredible... From a mounted cavalry soldier to a pilot.
DeleteYour father represents the very best of our nation, and thank God, we produced many men like him.
Very cool!
DeleteMy late friend Nate survived Pearl only to be sent to Normandy, and of course, The Bulge after that.
ReplyDeleteHe did not remember meeting my dad at either of the last two.
One of the most humbling honors that I've had, was to jump into Normandy on June 6th 1944, for the 50th Anniversary commemoration.
ReplyDeleteJust being able to follow in the footsteps of my Paratrooper brethren in that small capacity....was an incredible feeling.
As I'm known to say, have your children or grandchildren meet and talk with WWII Veterans if at all possible....because one day very soon....it won't be.
Cool story. You were privileged to have that honor. That will stay with you forever.
DeleteAnd you're right: Get your kids in front of those old heroes while they are still around. In Albuquerque recently, we had the good fortune to happen upon a Navajo Codetalker and my youngest daughter got to talk to him and bought a book about his experiences.
Back in my blogging days, I wrote about such experiences:
From Western Hero Archives, Dec 7 2011
People who talk abut how humble they are are usually guilty of excessive pride.
DeleteA few years back, while waiting to have my car washed, I spoke with a fellow who was wearing a jacket with a B-17 embroidered on the back. His most horrifying experience was while approaching their target in Germany, in dense formation, one of the aircrafts ahead drifted underneath another at the time of bomb release. It was utter destruction of the errant bird and no one “got out.” He told me he relives that event every night in his sleep.
ReplyDeleteMy uncle landed at Normandy; he never spoke about it.
___ The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner ___
DeleteFrom my mother’s sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.
~ Randall Jarrell (1914-1965)
By the way I have been able to warm up to the poetry of Randall Jarrell, despite his having been lauded an applauded during his brief lifetime with every critical award Academia and the so-called "cognoscenti" could heap on him. Yes there is much truth in what he wrote, but his worldview seemed dark, bitter, cynical and tinged with contempt for the world in which he lived so unhappily. His work always seemed like A Beckoning Invitation to Desolation and Despair to me.
DeleteWell, GUSSWHAT?
I just found out, that despite being the favored, highly apt pupil of respected Southern Agrarian Conservatives on the faculty of Vanderbilt University, Jarrell's alma mater, Jarell, himself, was a MARXIST.
Need we say more?
Despite his great success in the Literary-Academic world from which he sprang, Jarrell was a manic-depressive. His untimely death at age FIFTY-ONE is considered by everyone who knew him to have been a SUICIDE.
DeleteThe Mind Cancer that is Marxism in ALL its many guises could do that to a sensitive, highly intelligent person all too easily.
HELL! Marxism has already caused numerous entire NATIONS to commit virtual suicide, has it not?
THOUGH I, PERSONALLY, HAVE COME TO HOLD ABRAHAM LINCOLN IN LOW ESTEEM, THESE FAMOUS WORDS OF HIS MAKE AS A FITTING A TRBUTE TO THOSE WHO DIED, WERE CRIPPLED, OR HOPELESSLY MAIMED DURING THE D-DAY INVASION OF NORMANDY AS ANY WRITTEN BEFORE OR SINCE:
ReplyDelete___ THE GETTYSBURG ADDRESS ___
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate –– we can not consecrate –– we can not hallow –– this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract.
The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.
It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us –– that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion –– that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain –– that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom –– and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
~ Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865)
First presented November 19, 1863
.
ReplyDeleteD-Day is not an honor to any president, but an honor to those soldiers who fought and died.
I'm surprised the the so called patriotic crowd is not protesting in the streets against our crooked president Trump.
What kind of American patriot supports Trump?
I do.
DeleteAny other stupid questions I can answer for you?
I not only SUPPORT President Trump, I ADORE President Trump. He's the best thing to come our way on the political front –– by far –– since Ronald Reagan.
DeleteThose who think otherwise have either been brainwashed with the nail tsunamo of misinformation we get 'round the clock from the corrupt, totally dishonest, depressingly ubiquitous ENEMEDIA –– or –– they must be congenital idiots.
Poor "Jerry" up there is nothing more than a TROLL, and a dull, witless, unimaginative troll at that.
A Lefty-Tard talking about a President reading a speech after 8 years of Obozo...
DeleteWell... At least Trump didn’t steal the speech like bite me Biden....
You Lefty-Tards and your Butt Hurt are a never ending source of amusement.
Take a hike Jerry, this is not the Progressive-La-La Land like the place you came from!
Jerry is an escapee from the Progressive’s asylum
DeleteSO! Another Denigration Derby after all at a time when all should be feeling profound GRATITUDE an EMPATHY for those who sacrificed everyhng they had so ta WE might live in peace and safety –– for a few more years at least.
DeleteWhat IS this thing in US that causes us coldly to IGNORE VIRTUE, yet become PASSIONATE when given an object deserving of nothing but contempt and derision?
"The fault, . . ., is not in our stars, but in ourselves."
~ William Shakespeare - Julius Caesar
Did you not contribute to said derby.....?
Delete____ A D-DAY LAMENTATION ____
ReplyDeleteThe thought arises once again:
That our brave men have died in vain
If in our now-degraded state
We see no more why they were great,––
And rattle on belligerently ––
Rejecting Thought that made us free ––
Embracing now with loud insistence ––
Malice threatening our existence ––
Tearing at each other's throats ––
While a leering Satan gloats ––
A sorry spectacle that wrenches
My heart thinking of the trenches
Filled with anguish, fear and dread
As bullets whizzed above each head,
And buried in the mud the mines
Lurked to shatter limbs and spines,
While in the distance cannons boomed
Inspiring fear that all were doomed.
Then to see a body shattered ––
One a buddy –– now parts scattered ––
In the mud with corpses strewn ––
Gruesome lit by sun or moon ––
More pitiful the wounded lie
In agony praying to die.
And all around the smell of blood
Vomit, –– urine, –– faces, –– crud
Defined the hellish atmosphere
But few if any shed a tear.
They knew they had a job to do ––
Protecting our land –– and you ––
From Tyranny, –– Brutality ––
Poverty –– and Slavery ––
Their Sacrifice –– Our Legacy –
Now relegated to the Fire ––
Ever the Enemy’s Desire ––
Because their precious Victory
Was neutralized by Sophistry
That promised Peace eternally
By ceding our Sovereignty
As a dumb ovine assembly
Always led too easily
To the abattoir where brutally
They end up slaughtered ruthlessly.
And so the Enemy has won ––
Not by bayonet, bomb, or gun ––
But by an ideology
Seductive, to those lazily
Imagining there’s an Easy Way
To stop becoming Satan’s Prey.
Thus lulled into stupor we
Now feel a false Security.
Forgetting that we owe a debt
To those brave men who fought to get
Continued Opportunity
To cherish their fine legacy.
Because the Left runs Education
We’ve lost our great Emancipation ––
Betrayed great men through dissipation
Made worse by bitter argumentation.
~ FreeThioke
______ KILLERS _____
ReplyDelete___ I am singing to you
Soft as a man
___ with a dead child speaks;
Hard as a man in handcuffs,
Held where he cannot move:
___ Under the sun
Are sixteen million men,
Chosen for shining teeth,
Sharp eyes, hard legs,
And a running
___ of young warm blood
___in their wrists.
___ And a red juice runs
______ on the green grass;
And a red juice soaks the dark soil.
And the sixteen million are killing . . .
___ and killing
_____ and killing.
___ I never forget them day or night:
They beat on my head for memory of them;
They pound on my heart and I cry back to them,
To their homes and families, dreams and games.
___ I wake in the night and smell the trenches,
And hear the low stir of sleepers in lines ––
Sixteen million sleepers and pickets in the dark:
Some of them long sleepers for always,
Some of them tumbling to sleep tomorrow for always,
Fixed in the drag of the world's heartbreak,
Eating and drinking, toiling. . .
___ on a long job of
______ killing.
Sixteen million men.
Carl Sandburg (1878-1967)
_____ OMAHA BEACH, D-DAY _____
ReplyDeleteOver choppy water, through the air
Men at arms proceeded filled with dread ––
All aware that soon they could be dead.
Hell awaited them, yet each would dare ––
Awash in vomit, trembling with fear ––
Bent on doing what he had to do ––
Even as the German bullets slew
Almost all first wading to get near
Cited targets past the blood-soaked sand
Held so firmly by the brutal Huns ––
Desperate, themselves ––, as in the dark
Determined paratroopers soon would land
As wave after wave the Allied ones
Young and brave came moved by Divine Spark.
~ FreeThinke (6/6/19)
I salute those who defend and have defended our freedom. I'm also glad that it was Harry Truman who ended WWII and not FDR. Had FDR lived to serve a full 4th term, history would have taken a turn for the worse. God had His hand in shaping our nation, preserving its greatness.
ReplyDeleteHow so?
Delete