Lest We Forget
One of the Normandy region’s claims to fame is that it’s the birthplace of camembert cheese. The camembert here is not your average cheese. Made from the milk of only one breed of heritage cow, it is next level delicious - a little more pungent than ours - and so creamy. Of course it was only right to sample some for breakfast, with a crusty baguette. Très bon!
Normandy reminds us a bit of the south coast of NSW, with its farms, rolling green hills and paddocks of horses, freshly shorn sheep and of course those camembert-producing cows. On the shores of the English Channel, it’s also been fertile ground for skirmishes dating way back to Viking days. The most famous battles in these parts though, and what has put this place on the map, began in 1944; more precisely on 6 June, otherwise known as D-Day, when British, American and Canadian troops landed on the beach and advanced on the Germans.
The Germans, under the command of their Nazi boss with the ridiculous moustache, had been making themselves at home in France, overstaying their welcome and no doubt enjoying the wine, cheese and baguettes a little too much. The French were powerless to kick them out. Enter: the Allied forces! These gutsy soldiers arrived in droves, some via the beach and others dropped from planes, to wage war with the unwelcome guests, overcome them and eventually liberate France. Pretty awesome right? The French thought so too and are determined not to forget. Normandy and its surrounds are a living tribute to those Allied soldiers who won them their freedom. Union Jacks, Canadian and American flags are everywhere - bunting in the streets, waving on people’s front lawns, adorning the numerous statues and memorials. No one is forgetting anytime soon.
In preparation for our own day of remembering, last night, Ross and I watched episode 3 of his favourite all-time show, Band of Brothers. (When I say watched, I mean re-watched because Ross has watched it so many times, he can recite the script off by heart). It was actually perfect preparation and made it all come to life as we were travelling through all the famous spots today.
Rather than doing a formal tour, Rossco decided he’d rather custom make a plan for our day so, after a lot of time, effort and extensive research, the “Ross Jones Bespoke Tour of Normandy/ Let’s Go to All the Places from Band of Brothers and Saving Private Ryan Tour” was born.
There has to be at least 20 D-Day related museums in this area, literally one in every little village, each with a plethora of tanks, guns, bombs and miscellaneous war memorabilia. Our war enthusiast friend Walshy would be in his element. The RJB* Tour (*time-saving acronym) began in Bayeux, where we are staying, with a visit to the excellent Museum of the Battle of Normandy. This place was packed to the rafters with amazing memorabilia and interactive displays, with a day-by-day recap of the whole of Operation Overlord.
I was transported back to Year 4 with the D-Day “diorama” (true, their’s was slightly bigger than my shoebox version involving green army men and lots of Blu-Tack) and I loved the movie with all the original footage, that put it all together for me.
We visited Carentan and Omaha and Utah Beaches, where a lot of the D-Day action took place. Along with a solid stream of American and British tourists pouring from tour buses (doing inferior tours to the RJB I’m sure), we marvelled again at the courage of those young blokes as they pulled off one of modern history’s best ever surprise parties, storming the beach to ambush the Nazis. The white, sandy coastline with rocky cliffs stretching for miles is absolutely stunning.
Next on our tour was the little town of Sainte Mère Église, which had some stories to tell. When WWII paratroopers were shaken out of planes over Normandy like dice, one parachuting soldier, Private John Steele, didn’t quite make it to the battlefield when his chute hooked onto the pointy end of the church steeple, leaving him dangling, forced to be a mere spectator of the action happening directly below him. A dummy version of the unlucky Private still dangles from the steeple, complete with parachute. The church has also installed a massive and beautiful parachute-filled stained glass window as a tribute to the paratroopers that gave them their freedom.
Another stand out on the RJB tour was a visit to the famous Pointe du Hoc, a 30m high cliff, sticking out into the English Channel between Omaha and Utah Beaches. On 6 June, 1944, at dawn, The Allied forces’ “Rangers” hit the beach. Waves crashing below them, bullets flying, grenades raining down. These brave fellas whipped out ladders, grappling hooks, and even rocket-fired ropes (Batman eat your heart out) to scale the cliffs. Somehow these maniacs made it to the top, some climbing up with their bare hands, and were able to defeat the Germans, who had taken their guns and retreated inland.
The Allies bombed the German’s concrete bunkers - a little something they’d prepared earlier - and pock-marked the landscape with explosions that have left giant craters there to this day. We walked into a few of the Nazi bunkers and ammunition storerooms that are still intact.
Our last stop on the RJB tour was the Overlord Museum at Omaha Beach. There was a photography exhibition where a photographer had taken shots of veterans returning for memorial services from 1985-2011, asking them to recall what it had been like to fight on D-Day. My favourite was from Bill Millin, the resident bag-piper in the Allied forces. Feeling seasick and over being on the boat, he was eager to get off but just as he was about to take the plunge, the guy who jumped before him was shot dead. He jumped in quick smart and as his kit floated to the surface, the shock of the cold water knocked the seasickness from him and he was so elated to be alive, he “struck up the Pipes and paddled through the surf playing “Highland Laddie”, with a nod of approval from his commanding officer.
After the tour, which I can, by the way, highly recommend, we drove the country roads - so narrow and the houses so close you could grab a cup of tea if someone held it out through their window - back to our little old castle in Bayeux. Ross, who has been craving chilli, asked a Frenchman if he could have his curry a “little more spicy”. The Frenchman looked confused. “It has spice monsieur, it’s a curry”. He said it was the mildest curry he’d ever tasted.
We are feeling a bit sad that tomorrow will be our last day in France but we are also very excited about being reunited with the kids!
