Getting Sober

May 20, 2008

The lack of Internet is disturbing, but Alyshia has been kind enough to let me use her computer to type up blog entries so I can at least write up what we’ve done. I’m not sure what had happened the last time I wrote, but Normandy (as I probably said earlier) is kind of ridiculously beautiful. There are some cows right on the other side of the fence outside our lodgings at the Moulin Morin, and they are big and soft and sweet, with huge eyes.

Our first day in Bayeux we had mostly free, but we walked into town , which is a good 30 minute amble from our place. We saw a bunch of sites, including a church, the Notre Dame de Bayeux. By this time it was pouring rain, so it was nice to go inside. I left my umbrella in the front so I wouldn’t get the floor wet. We toured the crypts and the whole church, and then congregated at the front to leave again. But LO AND BEHOLD someone had STOLEN my umbrella! From a CHURCH! So I had to borrow Cauvin’s umby and make my miserable way back home.

The Church in Bayeux

Our second day was a totally free day, so instead of going on a bike ride with Wynn and being active, I took a long nap and bubble bath and walked to the store. We’ve done collective dinners almost every night, so we go to the store (Leclerc) to get groceries. But it was a really beautiful day and it was nice not having to do anything.

Yesterday was anything but a free day. We went to Caen in our pimped-out tour bus (leather couches in the back), and saw the castle of William the Conqueror and the abbey dedicated to his wife, Matilda was William’s second cousin, and they had to get permission from the Pope to marry, so to secure his acquiescence, they built abbeys. It was awesome going into the abbey of Matilde because her tomb was right there, and it was insane being in something that dated back to the 1000s (later rebuilt in the 15th century after a fire), and the abbey was also part of the main Caen government building, which houses the governing body of lower Normandy. The funniest part of the tour was when our very capable tour guide told us that “the door between [the government building and the abbey] is always locked because the French believe in a firm separation of church and state.”

Castle of William the Conquerer

After the tour of the church, we went to a reception held by a lady of the governing body, who gave us cider and hors d’oeuvres and gift packs with backpacks and t-shirts (sadly no umbrella)!

Mme. Debakker looking fab.

Jacob and me at the reception

After the reception we went to a memorial museum, a second generation museum for war in general, I guess. You could tell that it was made a) to impress upon visitors the emotional impact of the war and b) to educated people who didn’t have any firsthand experience of the war. However, as someone who has spent a whole semester studying WWII, I found the exhibits a little overbearing and corny. We did watch a good video on D-Day, but it was overshadowed by the second film, which had corny music and kitschy graphics.

Good picture from the museum

After that we returned home, and GUESS WHAT! I got to feed the ducks and one of them came right up and ATE OUT OF MY HAND! So that made my day. We spent our night (as we spend every night) dancing, playing games (Charades and cards), and Frisbee, and bonding. We also had a guest who was in Normandy Scholars in 1991 two days ago who worked for the UN in Geneva, and who was fascinating to talk to. She has a job that I would love to have; doing good for the world.

Feeding Margie the Duck

Today we woke up super early and rode the bus to the German gravesite. Each stone marked the graves of two German soldiers, and many of them were unidentified. It was much simpler than the graves we would visit later on in the day.

German cemetery; the mound is made up of unidentified remains of German soldiers

After visiting the German gravesite we traveled to Pointe du Hoc, where about 160 American Rangers lost their lives trying to destroy huge guns that weren’t there. This definitely had more of an impact on me than any of the museums we’ve been to so far because it was a place where men fought and died. Here, as everywhere else, everything was green and verdant and flowery, but there were still huge craters and holes where artillery had landed. There were also bunkers and gun emplacements, some destroyed and some still intact. We went into some of them, and they were completely dark and cold. I don’t believe in ghosts, but if they existed they would exist here, in these dreary water-stained walls. It is very sobering to know that you are walking on ground that countless men died upon.

In a crater from shelling, Pointe du Hoc

German bunker on Pointe du Hoc View from a German bunker on Pointe du Hoc

After Pointe du Hoc we went to a small town above Omaha Beach, and took a long lunch while waiting for the tide to recede. After a two hour lunch, it still wasn’t low enough to walk on the beach, so we drove to the American cemetery (they usually walk), and saw the American gravestones. We started out at a museum of sorts at the Visitors’ Center, and saw a brief film. Once again, the stuff was interesting, but I had learned it before and it wasn’t as arresting as the site itself. After the museum we took part in a ceremony in front of a statue overlooking the gravestones entitled something to the effect of American Youth Rising Above Death (don’t remember the exact name; I’ll put it down later). The loudspeaker played the Star-Spangled Banner, and we each got a yellow rose. Then it played Taps, and we each got the name of a Texas soldier who died in the invasion. The ceremony was slightly more moving because I didn’t realize what was going to happen, and it was a little emotional. The graveyard is designated American soil, so American flags fly above and everything is first written in English, and then in French (usually it’s the other way around).

Statue at the American Cemetery

After the ceremony we went to find the gravestone of our Texas soldier. Mine was Millard Proffitt, a PFC who died only a few days after D-Day. It didn’t say his date of birth, but he probably wasn’t that much older than me. It did make it more personal to lay a rose at the grave of one person, although there are 6,000 more whose gravestones remain unadorned.

Grave of Millard Proffitt

I guess I am in a philosophical mood but as this semester has ended and the history tour has begun, I don’t really feel any better about the state of the world.

After the cemetery we walked back to the bus along a few miles of Omaha Beach, as by this time the tide had receded. It was a long walk down; I don’t know how anyone could have survived the climb up the bluffs.

On Omaha Beach