Back to the Beaches: A D-Day veteran returns to France

Ninth entry:

Originally we had planned to go back to Paris on Tuesday, but Joe wanted to go back to the cemetary and take a chance on the weather. He wanted to take another look at Omaha Beach and possibly go through the museum. We went through the cemetary museum where there were many films that neither one of us had seen. All of the displays were fabulous. While going toward the end of the museum I heard someone saying names. As we went through a tunnel that led to the cemetary we finally realized that those were the names of all of the fallen soldiers in the cemetary. We passed displays which honored the Medal of Honor recipients, and then we were out into the cemetary itself. We entered onto a pathway which meandered around the perimeter of the cemetary at the part which overlooked Omaha Beach. Joe spent time looking and no doubt remembering what had happened there and his part in Teddy Roosevelt's funeral. I felt that I should leave Joe with his memories, so I took a few pictures, some of Joe, others of the beach. The weather was failing, and it was starting to rain again, so Joe decided to go back to the car. While on the way back to the car, I met the asst. directeur who escorted us the day before. I asked him if there was a way to get a car down to the beach. He gave me directions, and again I bid farewell.

When we arived at the actual beach in Colleville it was raining again, so we decided to try to let the weather pass. Then we went onto Omaha Beach for a walk. It was a very short walk, because weather hell broke loose, and we had to get to the car as quickly as possible. When we were sitting in the car, I noticed that it was hailing. The hail stones were about 1/4in. in diameter. This was strange, because it was about 45 -50 degrees. Further, the hail was accompanied by thunder. After the hail storm, the skies cleared and Joe and I walked on Omaha Beach. We talked about the invasion and the ships off shore. Some Belgians took our picture. We came back, and I gathered some sand. I hope that customs will allow the sands from Utah and Omaha to come back with us. This is hallowed ground.

We then drove down the highway by the sea; drove through a small fishing village; programmed our trusty GPS, and headed for Paris. When we arrived at the Periphique Sud in Paris, we were greeted by - you guessed it - bumper to bumper crawling traffic. It took us 2 hours to move about 6 miles. Finally I gave up, exited, and let the GPS take us through the city streets to our hotel. Upon arrival, Joe was extremely tired. We had been on a whirlwind tour through Normandie. I have decided not to go to Belgium. I think that it would be too hard on Joe, and he sadly agrees.

Thursday: Today we rested. Tomorrow we once again play tourist.

Eighth entry:

Joe and I slept a bit later today. Yesterday was pretty tough on him, but we did the day, and he survived. One thing to add is that the taxi driver who brought us back to Place de Italie took his fare in U.S. Dollars instead of Euros. He said that he used his dollars for his vacation, so he was happy to take our american money.

After breakfast we took the taxi to the Louvre. The first thing which was a surprise was that the glass pyramid in the front courtyard is really the interance to the museum. Upon entering the pyramid, we had to go through a security station where all bags were searched. The French Army was patroling everywhere with their trusty machine guns, but no one seemed to mind. After security there was a long escalator which met a conveyor that made a turn and then there was another escalator. At the bottom of the second escalator was the area that contained all of the boutiques (gift shops) and ticket sales. The customer service person told us how to get into the Denon section where the Mona Lisa was displayed. Mona Lisa was the one thing that Joe wanted to see, so I wanted to go to that section first. We walked toward a gallery and Joe had to sit down, so I went around a corner and into a huge room, turned around and there she was - the Mona Lisa! She was behind very thick tented glass or what looked like glass, and the area was roped off so that no one could get closer than about 25ft. There was also about 6 museum personel on each side of her. I took pictures, but there was something around her that the digital chip in the camera could see which was not visable to the human eye. The end result was that the photos were somewhat distorted and fuzzy. I am sure that for every security measure which was seen, there are at least double the measures which are not seen.

I went back through a door at the back of the giant gallery, and my first gaze was of a fantastic palacial hall with paintings on both sides. The ceilings were in some cases painted and decorated with incredibly ornate carvings covered by what looked to be gold leaf. In some areas of the hall the ceilings were skylights. This sight was breathtaking, an adjective which would become used at every new view in the museum. I then went back to Joe and brought him in to see the Mona Lisa. We then went into the giant hall and just started to look at all of the absolutely wonderful art - some familiar - most not. This is when I realized that I wished that I had paid more attention in the art studies which were part of the I.D. program at Kentucky Southern College. Each hall was followed by what seemed to be a more magnificent hall with even more magnificent art. In one room, Joe sat in front of a painting of the coronation of Napolean, a painting which was about 40ft. wide by 30ft.high. This painting along with many others is in a huge red hall. There was some sculpture which I wanted to see, so I went into the sculpture area. There I saw the Venus de Milo, and Winged Victory along with the most beautiful sculpture from the classic Greek and Roman era. I was surprised to find that the sculptors would often mix the stone from which they would make the carvings. A greek sculpture named Minerva is an example of this. When I first saw her I was awe stricken. The beauty of these sculptures from both the Roman and the Greek classical era are far more striking in one can see and touch them than they are in a photograph.

At this time, Joe was getting a little weak, and I was getting a little hungry, so we found the cafe in the Louvre, took a break and had lunch.

The Louvre is divided into three sections which define the origin of the art such as Italian, Egyption, Greek, French, and/or others. This place is the standard which the entire world of art museums strive to reach. It is much too large to see in one day, one week, or even one month. One must see the Louvre in sections, and in order to enjoy everything the Louvre has to offer, one must be well versed in art history and ready to give the museum at least one year....really!

After lunch, I brought Joe to see some of the magnificent sculpture. We walked through some of the galleries, but the day was wearing Joe down, so we decided to head back to the hotel. This was to be our last night in France, and we had to get ready for the journey home. We took our last taxi back to the hotel, we packed, and then we decided to go to a large sidewalk cafe for dinner. We had a French hamburger. It was just like our hamburgers, but with a fried egg on top of the tomato and onions. Of course the bun was better than what we usually see. Once again we watched the french people talk with their hands and smoke extremely strong cigarettes, the cutest girls you ever saw with their napolean-like black jackets and boots (all stepping out in a hurry), and the lovers on the sidewalk. I had a friend tell me to "enjoy, enjoy, enjoy", and we did. Now we had to get as much sleep as possible, for the next day we would fly home.

Seventh entry:

Originally we had planned to go back to Paris on Tuesday, but Joe wanted to go back to the cemetary and take a chance on the weather. He wanted to take another look at Omaha Beach and possibly go through the museum. We went through the cemetary museum where there were many films that neither one of us had seen. All of the displays were fabulous.

While going toward the end of the museum I heard someone saying names. As we went through a tunnel that led to the cemetary we finally realized that those were the names of all of the fallen soldiers in the cemetary. We passed displays which honored the Medal of Honor recipients, and then we were out into the cemetary itself.

We entered onto a pathway which meandered around the perimeter of the cemetary at the part which overlooked Omaha Beach. Joe spent time looking and no doubt remembering what had happened there and his part in Teddy Roosevelt's funeral. I felt that I should leave Joe with his memories, so I took a few pictures, some of Joe, others of the beach. The weather was failing, and it was starting to rain again, so Joe decided to goback to the car.

While on the way back to the car, I met the asst. director who escorted us the day before. I asked him if there was a way toget a car down to the beach. He gave me directions, and again I bid farewell.

When we arived at the actual beach in Colleville it was raining again, so we decided to try to let the weather pass. Then we went onto Omaha Beach for a walk. It was a very short walk, because weather hell broke loose, and we had to get to the car as quickly as possible. When we were sitting in the car, I noticed that it was hailing. The hail stones were about 1/4in. in diameter. This was strange, because it was about 45 -50 degrees. Further, the hail was accompanied by thunder.

After the hail storm, the skies cleared and Joe and I walked on Omaha Beach. We talked about the invasion and the ships off shore. Some Belgians took our picture. We came back, and

I gathered some sand. I hope that customs will allow the sands from Utah and Omaha to come back with us. This is hallowed ground.

We then drove down the highway by the sea; drove through a small fishing village; programmed our trusty GPS, and headed for Paris. When we arrived at the Periphique Sud in Paris, we were greeted by - you guessed it - bumper to bumper crawling traffic. It took us 2 hours to move about 6 miles. Finally I gave up, exited, and let the GPS take us through the city streets to our hotel. Upon arrival, Joe was extremely tired. We had been on a whirlwind tour through Normandie. I have decided not to go to Belgium. I think that it would be too hard on Joe, and he sadly agrees.

Sixth entry:

We only briefly stayed at Utah Beach when we arrived. It was getting dark, and Joe was getting tired, and we needed to bed down for the night. Joe wanted to go into Carentan, and since it was only 8.3mi. away it seemed to be a good idea.

The area around Utah Beach is mostly farm land. There is very little traffic and very few lights. There are no hotels there, so we had to leave for the night. Carentan is a very small town in which there are only 2 hotels. The first hotel we checked was full, and the second had rooms. Interestingly, when I went in the latter hotel for information, there was no one there. I brought Joe into their waiting area and went looking for someone - anyone. Finally a middle-aged woman came out of the tavern next to the hotel. She looked me over from the top of my head to my feet and back to my head again. She had a look of disapproval about her, and after sizing me up, she in a controlling, confidant voice said, "YOU WANT A ROOM?" The look and the question went through me almost like cold steel. I felt skeward, and, frankly, I was a little concerned about what might happen if I said "no", so I chose to say "yes" and hope for the best. Later, I was to learn that her English was limited to that phrase and a few others, so the reality was that we were quite safe, but at that point in time, we were not very sure.

Joe and I decided to soften her up a bit, so we would make a big deal of greeting her every time we met her. Finally, we saw her on the street when we were getting ready to leave. We threw our hands up into the air and very loudly said, "Hello! Hello! I reached toward her; took her hand and looked at her with a big smile on my face while saying, "It's so nice to see you!"

She looked at her hand and then looked up at me. There it was! Her smile broke through, although just for a moment. Then she gathered herself and moved in her direction as we moved in ours.

Later as we were leaving, we saw her again. This time she was a bit different. She was a little softer. She smiled as we checked out of the hotel. We shook hands once again and

bid farewell. We were to face that day armed with good memories. We had no idea of how the new day would present itself, but we knew that on this day we were going to the beach. We knew that in some way this day would be special,...and it was.

We first went through St. Mere Iglise, the first town that Joes group encountered. This town was made famous by one paratrooper who landed and was caught hanging on the tower of the church. The Germans shot him and left him hanging. As the GIs passed him, he left his permanent image not only in the minds of the soldiers, but also in minds and hearts of the town population. The scene has been chronicled in several movies.

One of my "movie" memories is of John Wayne telling his troops to cut him down. Today a sculpture of a GI hanging from his parachute hangs from that tower. We went into the church and found it to be very beautiful and wonderfully maintained. When we were about to leave, I looked up and I saw a marvelous stained glass window which portrayed the landing showing an armed and

helmeted angel with wings spread; holding a sword and wearing armor. Parachutes are over the angel's head, and the symbols of the airborne units are placed around the perimeter of the window. At the bottom are the words, "They came back".

We tried to go to the Airborne Museum, but they were gone for lunch. It is the "off" season, so the operators of the museum all take

a 2 hour lunch all at the same time.

We decided to leave for Utah Beach. This time it was daylight, and we also wanted to go the Utah Beach Memorial and Museum.

When we arrived at "Utah", it was raining and windy. It seems that there was a storm centered in the Atlantic off the coast of France and Spain, and this storm was causing havoc with the weather. We went into the Museum which was located at the exact spot where Joe landed. When we went in, they honored Joe with a medal and a certificate. As Joe and I went through the museum, his memory went into "overdrive". He would bring me from one display to another, and he would tell me about what was happening. Then he saw the plaque which honored his unit, and he excitedly said, "Yeah, yeah, now it's all starting to come together and make sense!"

He showed me the landing barriers and traps, and told me how they were set up. He also went to all of the equipment displays and told me what they were all about.

There were photos on display of the actual beach landing displaying the crowded conditions and the efforts to clear all of the equipment from the beach. We saw special movies which were comissioned by Joe's boss, General Collins. Time flew, and before we knew it we had to leave for "Omaha" and Colleville-sur-Mere where the American cemetary would close in the next few

hours. Once again we bid farewell and moved on.

The weather was horrible at Colleville-sur-Mer. We arrived is squal-like conditions where the wind was blowing the rain into an almost horizontal direction. The clouds were heavy and moving so quickly that it reminded me of a tropical storm. When we entered the cemetary welcome area we were surprised to find a security gate complete with armed guards and metal detectors. After passing security, we walked down a hall and into an open area where we heard a familiar "Good Afternoon" with an American accent. We turned around and there was a well dressed gentleman (Daniel L. Neese) who later turned out to be the American directeur for the cemetary. He saw the battle ribbons on Joe's hat along with the "Debarquemont" medal given to Joe at the Caen Memorial, and he asked if Joe was part of the landing force at Utah Beach. Joe said that he was, and then the Mr. Neese along with his assistant shook hands with both Joe and myself. Joe told him that he was in charge of the burial detail for General Theodore (Teddy) Roosevelt Jr., and everyone started to trade stories. Joe told them about his duties, and Mr. Neese told Joe about being a Marine in Vietnam. They then offered to take us out to Gen. Roosevelt's grave and escort us through the barriers which were in place because of new grass plantings.

They took us out to a covered electric cart complete with side panels which acted as protection from the driving rain, and off we went. When at the grave, Joe and Mr. Neese's

assistant exchanged more stories. Joe saluted the General, and we went back to the cart. Then an amazing thing happened. They offered Joe the honor of being present and assisting with the lowering of both flags in the cemetery at the end of the day, and also being included at a place of honor while Taps was played.

During Taps Joe stood at the base of the flag and saluted. In both cases one end of each flag was given to Joe to assist in the folding of the flag. For me it was an unforgettable honor just to be there. I can only imagine what Joe felt. At the end of the day, we were taken to our car. We bid farewell and we were off to St. Lo - the city which was destroyed by a 4,000 plane raid. Joe was there and saw that raid. During that raid General McNair was killed bomb blast. Joe saw that too.

Fifth entry:

The trip to Caen on Sunday revealed a few surprises. First, I am proud to announce that I navigated out of Paris almost no problem. When I finally understood that the street signs were on the far side of the interesection, I started to look in the right place for directions. Placed close to the corner of the interesection, the signs themselves are at a 45 degree angle from the roadways pointing toward their intended direction. That way everyone can use the sign instead of cars from only one approach. When we entered the A13 highway to Rouen (the capitol of the province of Normandie) and left Paris, I found that driving the highways of France is much like driving on our own interstate system. The US is starting to adopt the international sign system, and the French have adopted the "Yield" sign and in some cases the "Stop" sign. The speed limit signs are different as are most of the "in town" signs. Although different, the signs are very intuitive, and it doesn't take very long to understand what is going on. There is one very noticable difference which is not noticed immediately. I was thoroughly enjoying my drive through the French countryside when I noticed that there were absolutely no billboards...NONE! We could actually enjoy the country.

We diverted into Rouen just to take a look at the town. It was raining, but we did manage to see the old cathedral and an old ministrie building with a statue of Napolean on a rearing horse immediately in front of a courtyard. The statue stated something about Napoleanic Law. I took a few pictures and we had to move on. It was a fun diversion.

While we were driving Joe kept telling me that he didn't see any cows. About every 10 miles he would say, "I just can't understand why I can't see any cows." I asked him what kind of cows he was talking about, and he said, "black and white ones. These fields used to be loaded with them." Now, sometimes I am a little slow to pick things up, so it took awhile before I figured out just what he was talking about. Cows were important. Live cows meant fresh milk, and freshly killed cows meant steak dinner. So here we go and Joe is stepping back in time. I am not sure if he is hungry or thirsty. When Joe finally saw a cow, I told him that I had figured it out..."LUNCH". We had a rolling laugh. Then we pulled off to go to Caen. I saw a McDonalds and you guessed it, I ate some cow. Some things never change.

We stayed at the Hotel Bristol in Caen. The rates were much better than in Paris. The hotel was smaller, but those people were doing their best with less, and their place was beautiful. When they found out about Joe, they gave us a wonderful breakfast and then sent us on our way to the incredible D-Day Memorial, where once again, the appreciation, respect, and honor given to Joe by the French people was overwhelming. When the Memorial personnel found out that Joe was "debarquemont" (The name given only to the very first wave of soldiers to hit the beach at Normandie) they presented him with 2 medals. When the people saw him, they wanted to have their children meet him and have their photos taken with him. Grown men shook his hand with tears in their eyes. Others would walk by, look at Joe and say, "Merci, Merci". There are fewer and fewer Debarquemont, and I am seeing that the French consider them to be a national treasure. To meet a Debarquemont is an honor and privilege of the first order. While we were there, we saw photos and incredible movies constructed of actual footage of their suffering at the hands of the Germans, and of the actual preparations for the the invasion being taken by both the Germans and the Allies. We also saw incredible battle footage which I had never seen. Those movies are not "cleaned up" like the ones we see on the Military or History channel. The French suffered incredible hardship and abuse. After seeing the movies and hearing the stories, and then seeing how those people feel about those who liberated them, I am finding new appreciation for the cause of Liberte which drives the heart and soul of this country. Joe and I stayed for about 4 hours before we had to leave for Utah Beach. This time I was a bit smarter about driving, and we set up the GPS unit which led us out of Caen in just a few minutes.

When we reached Utah Beach, it was low tide. There was a ramp down to the beach. I drove onto the beach. The sand was hard - harder than Daytona beach, so I was not afraid of getting stuck. I stopped. We stepped onto the beach. Joe had made it. He was back on Utah Beach for the first time since June 6, 1944, only this time it was very, very quiet.

Fourth entry:

Today Joe and I decided to be tourists for a day. After we ate a great continental breakfast, we took the car onto the streets of Paris. The traffic wasn't too bad, so I had a chance to try out my "sea legs" on the Parisian streets. I was so confident that I wouldn't have trouble that I left my GPS system at the hotel...BIG MISTAKE!!! The problem is that this city was created in sections over a period starting about a thousand years ago.

There is no reasoning or master plan to this place. Roads go everywhere, and even the roads that look straight are not. They are straight for awhile, but then they randomely turn one way or another based on what was a good reason several hundred forgotten years ago, and today those moves and turns make absolutely no sense. The only constant about this nonsensical grid is that everywhere you look is a feast for the eyes.

This city is absolutely beautiful! Everything has an old world artistic flavor, and when seen for the first time one cannot help but forget the trials of being lost. Here the sense of adventure is easily displaced by a sense of amazement. After taking about 2 hours to make a 20 minute drive, we finally arrived at the Eiffel Tower. We actually enjoyed being lost! Of course there was no parking to be found, so we decided to pay for parking at the Pullman Hotel which was about 1/4 mile from the tower.

After we walked to the Eiffel Tower, we found thousands of people - all waiting for the lift up to one of the observation decks. It was a warm partially sunny day - a great day to visit the City of Light. The lines were very long for the lifts, and Joe was beginning to feel the stress, so I went to the gate personnel and told them about Joe. When they found out about his story, they took us to the front of all of the lines. They only charged us about 30% of the admission price and led us directly onto the lift. The French are very sentimental about the "Liberacion du Paris", and everytime they see Joe's hat one can tell that they are interested.

When they find out that he was part of the liberacion, they get very emotional. They want to talk to him, touch him, and tell him with tears welling up in their eyes how much they appreciate him. One gentleman at the Pullman Hotel told us about his grandfather who was in the French Resistance. A cafe operator came to Joe and with tears in his eyes refused to let us pay for our meal. This experience in so many ways is becoming so overwhelming that it is forcing me to give deference to humility. Liberte means so much to these people who suffered so much under the cruel tyranny of the Nazis. To them it is not just a "right". It is a living cause which is passed on through generations.

After having learned the lessons of driving in Paris without GPS, we decided to take a taxi to Notre Dame. After a 15 minute trip which would probably have taken us at least 2 hours, we arrived only to see huge crowds and lines to get in. By this time Joe was tired and in pain. Today's exercise pushed him to the limit, but he wanted to see Notre Dame, because he was here during the war. At that time he wanted to go in but his unit only had about 40 minutes to rest and then they were off to parts unknown. Joe told me about this when we were sitting on possibly the same bench he sat on during the war...at least he thought it was pretty close to the same exact place he remembered.

He told me that he always had wanted to go back and go in to see that beautiful cathedral from the inside. We walked completely around and back to the front of Notre Dame. The crowds were still there and Joe said that it would be allright if he didn't go in. I told Joe to stand by a fence in the front of the cathedral while I went to get one of the persons who was monitoring the line of pilgrims. When that gentleman saw Joe in his hat, he came from inside the church; went out to Joe and told him to come in. When we entered the Cathedral of Notre Dame the majesty and beauty was so overwhelming that the only thing that came out of my mouth were the words "Oh My".

This is truly the most beautiful cathedral I have ever seen - both inside and out. Joe sat for awhile. I could tell that he was deeply in thought, so I left him alone. I took some pictures, but I soon learned that my camera was severely under powered in its ability to cope with the scope and darkness of the interior. First of all, the lense was not capable of the wide angle necessary to cope with the expanse of both the interior and exterior of this place. Secondly, the darkness of the interior was just too much for the little camera to handle. I wished that I had brought my trusty Nikon F-5 and all of its lenses, but I was affraid that film and processing would not be available. I also knew that I needed to upload pictures for email. Failure to do so would probably result in slow agonizing death by friends and family, so I am going to send some photos today.

After Notre Dame we taxied back to pick up the car and go back to the room...SECOND BIG MISTAKE...Kind of. I thought Paris was bad during the day. Well - guess what! IT'S WORSE AT NIGHT. This time I had my route picked, and once again I proceded with a glowing ubris. Everything was doing great until my route was destroyed by a detour - oops! This time it was 2 hours before I came to my senses and I surrendered and decided that it would be easier to fight the language barrier than to fight the hoards of angry little cars and crazy scooters. After getting what help I could get from two different parties, I was finally headed back to what I thought was the right direction. Anyway, the "long story short" is that somehow I ended up on the Champs Elysees headed for the dreaded round about at the Arc de Triomphe. My Aunt Joy warned me about this when I was a teenager - now I know why. I really don't know how to describe it! But I have now been initiated. I actually did it twice. This time I did everything right, and after about 3 total hours we arrived at our hotel.

We finally hit the room. Joe hit the rack, and I began sorting the pictures and writing this entry. All has been fun. Tomorrow we leave for Normandy...This time with the GPS in place and running. After all, we do want to get there - tomorrow.

Third entry:

Today has been a blitz - especially at work. It seems that every time I am very close to leaving on a vacation all "you know what" breaks loose at work. I had planned to start the packing process, but now I think that I will just rest for the evening.

People have begun to start giving me advice. I am learning about more things than I can count, and I want to address some concerns. One of the main things that has been on my mind is the power differences between here and Europe. There are major differences, and not respecting them can be catastrophic. Europe and almost all of the rest of the world runs on 240 volts at 50 cycles per second while the US runs on 120 volts at 60 cycles per second. If you plug a conventional US appliance into european power, the appliance will probably go up in smoke. That is why I wanted to make sure that all of my computer and global cell phone gear are set up to run on a converter. When I asked about the converter, I was surprised to learn that virtually all cell phones and notebook computers have charging systems which are dual power capable. I checked the transformers on all of my equipment, and greatfully found that my advisor was right. All I needed to buy was a set of plugs. You can verify this by reading the very fine print which is on your charging systems. In most cases you will be pleasantly surprised!

Tomorrow I start the final process of getting ready. Joe and I are going to "lock down" our final itinerary for departure day and some of what we are going to do during our first days in country. I am coming to that strange feeling of not knowing what to expect but feeling ready for everything...maybe. My gut tells me that everything will be fine, but my brain tells me to be on alert and to be careful.

This is going to be a great trip. I am going to see amazing things and experience a depth of emotion I have rarely experienced. I am going to experience the greatest single event in the history of mankind through the memories of one who was there. We are going to walk those beaches together, and he is going to tell me the story and show me where it happened. What an honor. I am ready.

Second entry:

Today has been filled with getting ready to go. Both Joe and I have been comparing notes as to how much of and what we should wear and pack. I have been concentrating more on the equipment that I am going to use for this journal. Trying to separate everything I want from what I actually need is a bit daunting, but I think that I have arrived at a point of good compromise. The demon here is that I know I am forgetting something, but I don't know what it is.

Today I decided to include a GPS system for our trip. It cost $85.00 for the full time of the trip. I was shocked, but I went ahead and rented it. It is a good safety net in a country where virtually nothing is understandable. The unit covers all of Europe, so our trip into Belgium and Germany will be covered.

Joe has maintained his composure, but he is beginning to "crack" a bit. We started talking about this trip about 2 years ago, and there was always a doubt as to whether or not he would actually make it. The smiles are now beginning to break through, and he is starting to tell his friends about this trip. I have found out from his friends that he has actually wanted to make this trip for decades. His wife (Polly) is also excited, but she always gets me to re-affirm that I will take good care of Joe. I always tell her that we are two big boys, and we will take care of each other.

I am attaching some photos to this email. Several are of Joe and his unit, and they are self explanitory. There are two pictures of a book of which I must tell their story. The story is short but neat. The book is his copy of the French Phrase Book which was issued to all GIs for the invasion. This book has an interesting mix of phrases which combine the daily needs of the individual with the needs of war. There are phrases from everything from fighter planes, aircraft carriers, naval destroyers, and ranks of military servicemen to things like "I am hungry"; Where is the bathroom?; and "I am wounded".

The neat thing is that we are going to use this book as our language guide - just like they did in 1944. I think that the French will also enjoy the book. Notice the issue date on the front, and also notice that it was classified as "RESTRICTED". At the time of their issue, these books were a military secret!

First entry:

This is the first test of the system that I will use to communicate to all of you while I am escorting Sgt. Joe Cannon back to the beaches of Normandy where he was a part of the D-Day invasion on June 6, 1944.

This is a new system that I put together specifically for this trip, and I am learning as I go. I am set up for practically any kind of network connection, and I hope that I will make an entry every day. I will also attach pictures for everyone to view, and I might even send an occasional video.

This is new for me. I have never been to Europe. I have a small background in Spanish, but I am finding out that French is a totally new experience. Having studied both Latin and Spanish in high school and college, I can recognize a lot of the roots in the written language, but the spoken word is incredibly difficult.

We have rented a Renault "Twingo", and we plan to drive from Paris to Caen and then up to the D-Day Beaches. We plan to stay there for a couple of days. Joe went in on Utah Beach, but he wants to see all five of the beaches. The Americans went in on Omaha beach and Utah beach. The English went in on Gold and Sword beaches, and the Canadians went in on Juno beach.

We are also going to go the cemetary where thousands of American dead are buried. From there we are going to drive through the various cities and villages through which the American army fought in order to get to Paris. Then we are going to drive east into Belgium to Bastogne where Joe and company endured the Battle of the Bulge, and from there we are going to try to go into Germany where Joe met a German family and protected their liquor store from looting at the end of the war.

I am going to request a receipt for this email. That way I will know that you are getting this journal of Joe's trip. Please take a moment and click the "read receipt" you will receive upon opening this email. If you are not asked for a receipt, would you please reply so that I will know that everything is working well. We are scheduled to depart from Chattanooga on October 29, 2009. From Chattanooga we are flying to Charlotte, NC, and from there to Washington DC. Then we take the long flight to Paris. This flight should be interesting, because we are flying on Lufthansa Airlines - irony at its best.