Eighty Years

June 6, 1944

Eighty years ago today. 

In the misty gray light of early morning, landing craft approached the beaches of Normandy. Boats filled with frightened young men, many of them barely more than boys. 

Boys wishing they were still at home in bed. Shaking with fear. Praying. Maybe crying. Knowing that many of them would not survive the day.

 And yet, when those landing craft hit the beach, 

 when those ramps opened, 

without hesitation, they stood and charged into the hail of bullets that would claim nearly 10,000 of them before the sun set. 

Seeing their friends, their brothers in arms, cut down beside them. 

Still they ran. Still they fought. 

In spite of their fear, and knowing that the fate of the entire world rested on their shoulders, they claimed that beach and began the long, slow slog across Europe that would eventually lead to Hitler's demise.

That is why they truly were The Greatest Generation.

Most of those who stormed the beaches at Normandy that day are gone, and those who remain are well into their 90s and early 100s.  Soon, they'll all be gone. Soon there will be no one left who remembers that great and terrible day. 

That is why it is up to us.  It is up to us to remember them.  To guard their legacy.   To teach our children what they did for us -- for the world -- that day in 1944. It's our responsibility.  

Not the school's. Not the History Channel's. Ours. 

We must tell the story.  So that we may never forget. So that they will never be forgotten. 

 Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, 
and their children to the next generation. Joel 1:3