Britain, Europe, France, Government, History, Military, Society, United States

75th Normandy Commemoration

NORMANDY

SEVENTY-FIVE years ago, Britain had embarked on its most momentous military mission. Upon the outcome of D-Day, June 6 – the largest seaborne invasion the world has ever seen – hinged the very freedom of all Europe. Events this week in Normandy have been an impassioned reminder of the huge sacrifice and human cost of liberating Europe from the tyranny of Hitler and the Nazis.

Codenamed Operation Overlord, it was an endeavour of mind-blowing scale and complexity. Some 156,000 British, American and Canadian troops landed on French soil in a heroic push to prise Hitler’s choking grip from the Continent.

Few were highly experienced, meticulously trained military men. Most were plucked from loving families and ordinary jobs: Insurance clerks, shopkeepers, postmen.

Displaying unimaginable courage, they stormed the chaotic Normandy beaches. It was, undoubtedly, hell on Earth – wading ashore into a hail of bullets, with shells exploding, the sea red with human blood, and the piercing screams of the dying.

Quite easily, the enterprise could have foundered – leaving Europe caught in the death roll of Nazi dictatorship. But thanks to the tenacity and sacrifice of the selfless men who fought that tumultuous day in 1944, the attack succeeded – altering the course of the Second World War.

Yes, the human price paid was huge. On D-Day alone, around 4,400 Allied troops paid the ultimate sacrifice. But tyranny was conquered, and the Continent liberated.

This week, a dwindling band of military veterans were joined by royalty and world leaders in Portsmouth – an embarkation point for the battle – to commemorate the anniversary. To witness the intrepid warriors – all aged over 90 – wiping away tears for fallen comrades was moving and humbling.

Her Majesty the Queen commended the resilience of the “wartime generation”. The bravery of those who fought – and died – would never be forgotten, she said. They deserved the thanks of the whole free world.

Truly, the debt our heroes are owed cannot be repaid.

 

YET, what would these exemplary men, who stoically stared death in the face when barely out of short trousers, make of today’s intemperance and bigotry?

In attendance was Jeremy Corbyn, who aspires to be prime minister, but who invariably fraternises with our enemies. His contempt at President Trump being an honoured guest at the anniversary was visceral – even though American GIs died to preserve our liberty. The US, via NATO, has ensured peace in Europe ever since.

Earlier, he whipped his Marxist acolytes into such a frenzy of hate an NHS worker ignorantly shrieked “Nazi scum” in the face of a Trump supporter.

Welcome, then, to the new intolerance of the hard-Left. Anyone failing to share their bigoted and hateful views is branded racist or fascist – even at events celebrating freedom.

Since these buffoons have clearly never read a history book, here’s a lesson: The Nazis murdered six million Jewish people, and stamped the evil of fascism across Europe. Someone who merely proffers a different opinion is not a Nazi.

Each time these screeching fanatics resort to such disgusting slanders, they cheapen the very ideals the veterans fought for.

250 giants of D-Day, now frail but burning with the valour that carried them to victory, returned to Normandy in an act of pilgrimage. They witnessed the inauguration of the first British monument on the coast of France to honour the 22,442 members of our Armed Forces killed there.

Seventy-five years ago, Britain had far more to worry about than the present political turmoil of Brexit. The future of the world was in the balance.

But even after we have untangled ourselves from the EU, Europe will remain our historical and geographical kin. In times of danger, Britain will resolutely defend the freedoms given to us by the band of brothers on D-Day.

Standard
Arts, Britain, France, History, Second World War

Normandy Memorial Statue

D-DAY MEMORIAL

Three British soldiers are depicted here charging up the beach and into the hellish unknown, their camaraderie beautifully captured in bronze.

THE dwindling band of brothers who took part in the greatest military operation of all time will, on Thursday, 6 June, have their first sight of the new monument to their 22,442 comrades who never came home. They have been waiting 75 years for this moment.

The monument has just been erected on the spot where so many young men charged ashore and gave their all. It will be formally unveiled on Thursday – the anniversary of D-Day – in front of veterans, bereaved families and world leaders including the Prime Minister and the French President.

The monument, which is beautifully captured in bronze, is a depiction of the camaraderie of three British soldiers charging up the beach and into the hellish unknown. Standing 9ft tall and weighing several tons, the three figures are not based on any individuals and deliberately carry no regimental markings or insignia. The great D-Day invasion of France on June 6, 1944 involved hundreds of thousands from all the Services and the Merchant Navy, too. The ultimate purpose of this colossal multinational endeavour, however, was to put Allied infantry on French soil and keep them there.

That is why the award-winning sculptor David Williams-Ellis has distilled the essence of D-Day into this powerful and dynamic study of that quintessential hero – the ordinary British soldier doing his duty.

“They are in standard battle dress and in my mind one is a lance corporal and the other two privates,” said Mr Williams-Ellis. He spent months researching every aspect of the invasion and talked to many veterans before embarking on this great undertaking.

“There is no rank on them, it’s just a suggestion. I wanted it to be a scene expressing camaraderie and leadership. I will leave the viewer to judge which is the lance corporal.”

Mr Williams-Ellis has also sought to represent the three main fighting components of a standard infantry section. One figure is armed with a Bren light machine gun, one has a Sten machine gun, with the other clasping the trusty Lee Enfield .303 rifle.

“He is just about to get the rifle into his shoulder and fire… I wanted to create something that really had energy.”

The statue is the first phase of a memorial that will not be completed for at least another year. Spread across a 50-acre site at Versur-Mer, overlooking a ten-mile stretch of sand codenamed “Gold Beach”, it will feature stone columns engraved with the names of every serviceman under British command who perished in the invasion and the subsequent 77-day Battle of Normandy.

Among the women honoured will be two brave nurses who were still tending to the wounded when their hospital ship, the Amsterdam, was sunk off Juno Beach.

Every other allied country involved in the landings has long had a national memorial on French soil. Not so Britain – until now. The omission has been a source of disappointment to the veterans who are still raising funds. For them, Thursday’s inauguration ceremony will be a very happy milestone.

Lord Dannatt, the former Chief of the General Staff and a trustee of the Normandy Memorial Trust, said: “Anyone who talks to the veterans and to the loved ones of those who fell can be under no illusion about how much this memorial means to them. Now it’s really happening.”

The project has been made possible thanks to a £20million grant from the Treasury’s Libor Fund (of penalty fines from errant banks) plus donations from the philanthropist Michael Spencer. Thousands have also been donated by readers of a British national newspaper. However, a further £7.5million is still urgently needed to complete it.

TO understand how the events of 1944, resonate to this day, just listen to some of the heartbreaking messages and testimonies on the memorial’s website. They include the stories of men like Squadron Leader Jack Collins DFC and Bar, from Newcastle, a Typhoon pilot who was killed leading 245 Squadron over Caen in 1944.

His son Mike Collins was four when he died. He talks movingly of his excitement, as a toddler, on seeing his father’s picture in the paper, not realising it was a report of his death. Like all the relatives of those who fell, Mike now cannot wait to see the memorial take shape and to see his gallant father finally included on the Roll of Honour.

Standard