Omaha Beach
Stare at the horizon and picture the thousands of ships that once dominated the water.
Hear the U.S. fighter planes screaming overhead.
Feel the ground shake with incoming artillery fire and returning shells from the German bunkers.
Watch the 18, 19 and 20-year-olds step off the landing vehicles and die with their first steps on a foreign land.
And tell them, fiercely, in your head and in your heart, that you are here to remember them, this greatest generation.
The American Cemetery
There are no weeds in the grass, and the lawn is precisely edged.
And everything is angular ? rows and rows of white crosses and Jewish stars, precisely aligned as far as the eye can see.
You can feel the quiet and the reverence. And there is a determined order – as if to put a stop to the chaos that brought all these soldiers here.
It is closing time, and two American flags flanking the memorial at the entrance are being lowered to the sound of Taps, floating across the grounds.
And with each lowering, all the visitors -- dotted across the rows and rows of white on green -- simply stop moving and stand silently in place.
And, at last, it is right. Time has stood still. Notice taken. Sacrifice recognized.
I’m Charmaine Hantsch, and that’s my perspective.