We Americans are a lucky people, but sometimes we tend to let slip by many past events that did much to mold our lives and our society.
We forget as the years begin to grow in number and time passes into the pages of the past. This date, June 6, 1944, is one of those dates that we need never to forget. On this date, the greatest invasion force that man has ever assembled stormed ashore on the beaches of Normandy.
On this date in 1944, during the frightful days of World War II, the allied forces launched the greatest invasion force the world has ever known in hopes of defeating for all time the evil forces of Hitler’s army.
On June 5, Gen. Eisenhower set into motion a plan to lay the groundwork for the Normandy Invasion to be launched the following day. This day would be recorded in history as “D-Day” throughout the known free world.
Let us look back and try to visualize the magnitude of this invasion force. On June 5, 1944, over 3,000 American and British bombers, protected by the famed P-51 fighter planes, dropped thousands of tons of bombs on the Nazi forces that were dug in on the high cliffs that overlooked the beaches of Normandy.
The following day, ships from a hundred ports, numbering over 4,000, began crossing the English Channel. These ships would put ashore over 176,000 men in the first wave that landed on the sandy beaches. In less than three weeks that followed, over one million men and 170,000 vehicles made their way across the bloody sands of the Normandy beachhead.
Thousands of young men, many no more than 18 or 19 years old, never reached the sandy beaches. Many of these young men had no combat experience, except less than eight weeks of basic training, before they shipped to overseas ports to help make up the other thousands of the allied invasion force.
As the landing of troops increased, so many died there on the beach until bulldozers were used to push the dead bodies aside, so that the men and equipment yet to come ashore would have open space to maneuver as they fought for the high ground.
Should you visit the many military cemeteries that dot the landscape throughout Europe and see the thousands upon thousands of whip crosses that mark the graves of our fallen sons and brothers, then you will realize the price we paid that fateful day.
In 1986, I had the chance to visit one such cemetery. The row upon row of snow-white crosses in the Luxembourg Cemetery gave witness to the many thousands who sleep there. As I searched for the grave of a cousin who fell in the heavy fighting of the invasion, I remembered being told that he had not reached his 19th birthday prior to his death.
I remember that day as a student in high school when the principal of the school called an assembly. This was the day after school had started in September. Mr. Johnson, a World War I veteran, read out the names of those who had gone to school there at Sweet Water High and had fallen in battle that fateful day of June 6.
I remember that the old man wept as he called the names of seven young men from a prior graduating class that had fallen there on the bloody beaches of Normandy. This class would lose a total of eight young men, both in the Pacific and Europe, before the dreadful war’s end.
There are those who say that we should bury the past and let bygones be bygones. But, I believe we should remember those brave young men who gave their lives for the freedom we enjoy today. We should hold in high esteem the memories of those who died in battle so that we can continue to live as a free people.
We should forever remember those who never knew the joys of raising a family and having the chance to grow old with their children and grandchildren.
We, as a nation, cannot know where we are going unless we know where we have been. We must not forget those who gave their all for our way of life that we so often take for granted.
As we remember the millions who died in our past wars, we should remember that they too wanted to live a full and happy life. They didn’t want their lives to end there on the blood-soaked sands of Normandy, or on some unknown island in the Pacific. They didn’t want it to end on some frozen hillside in far off Korea or the steaming jungles of Vietnam or in the parched deserts of the Middle East.
We Americans are a forgiving people; for the want of wealth, we sell our homeland and even our souls to the very ones who tried to hard to destroy that which we cherished.
We turn a deaf ear to the cries of the millions slain who tried to protect us from the armies of the aggressor. The jingle of money pushes from our ears the cries of the dead who also wanted to live and enjoy a part of our tomorrow.
We allow our sacred flag to be burned in public places by deadbeats who have contributed nothing to the freedom they enjoy. One day we must learn that freedom is not free. Freedom has to be wanted. It has to be cherished. There comes a time when it has to be fought for and protect.
So, today, Thursday, June 6, 58 years since the sands of Normandy beach turned red with the blood of our brave young men, we need to stop and remember. It doesn’t take much time. Find a quiet spot and raise your arms to the heavens and thank God that you have been allowed to live in this great land of ours. You will be heard if you are sincere, and those who sleep beneath the white crosses and unmarked graves in those forgotten cemeteries in some far off land will know that they are remembered.
Do not let the spirits of those young men who fell in battle on a thousand battlefields wander forever on the winds of oblivion. Take time to be proud and let the world know that you are proud to be an American. Our country is approaching the crossroads of history. We must stand up and be proud. We cannot let that which we love cross over the point of no return.
There is a graveyard far, far away
Where a forgotten soldier lies.
No flowers there are sprinkled,
Nor tears from mourners eyes.
I stood there not so long ago
In remembrance for these brave,
When suddenly I heard a soft fait voice
Speak out from the depths of a grave.
“Did we really win our freedom
That we battled so hard to achieve?
Do we still respect that tiny flag
Above that empty sleeve?”
Wonder if those who planned it
All are really satisfied?
As they sing and dance and live it up
After many thousands died.
I am that forgotten soldier
And maybe I died in vain
But, if I were alive, and my Country called,
I’d do it all over again.
(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He also helped organize the Monroe County Museum and Historical Society and was also a past president of that organization. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)
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