But it’s never really Armistice, is it? One war ends for a moment while another war goes on someplace else, and eventually the old war picks up again. So we call it Veteran’s Day instead. from the Bayeux War Cemetery, Bayeux, France, 2005 In the two World Wars, they came from everywhere, high- and low-born, as it were. from Coleville-sur-Mer cemetery, Basse Normandie, France, 2005 There wasn’t enough left of some to be buried at all, and so the place where they died stands as their only monument. For some, we will never know their names. from Point du Hoc, Basse Normandie, France, 2005. (Those are craters from the bombs.) Omaha Beach, Basse Normandie, France, 2005 Rue de la Huchette, Paris, France, 2005 Some fell on the wrong side of history and are forgotten by their countrymen. Melaten Cemetery, Cologne, Germany, 2005 It’s hard to make sense of it all. I think of Pvt. Ranson often, especially on days like today, and I worry what became of his parents after he was gone.
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