Memorial Day

It is, in a way an odd thing to honor those who died in defense of our country....in wars far away.  The imagination plays a trick.  We see these soldiers in our mind as old and wise.  We see them as something like the Founding Fathers, grave and gray haired.

But most of them were boys when they died, and they gave up two lives - the one they were living and one they would have lived...

- Ronald Reagan

Originally called Decoration Day - Memorial Day is a day of remembrance for those who have died in service of our country.

There is an American Cemetery and Memorial located in Colleville-sur-Mer on the bluff overlooking Omaha Beach in Normandy, France.  Dedicated in 1956 the Cemetery and Memorial is situated closely to the site of the temporary American St. Laurent Cemetery, established by the U.S. First Army on June 8, 1944 - the first American cemetery on European soil in World War II.  

This is the final resting place of 9,387 of our military dead - most of whom lost their lives in the D-Day landings and ensuing operations.  If you were to visit this place you will note that upon the walls of the Garden of the Missing are inscribed an additional 1,557 names.  And because old battlefields continue to yield their dead - rosettes mark the names of those since recovered and identified.

In Plot E Row 26 Grave 37 rests James D. Johnston. Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Army, 47th Infantry Regiment, 9th Infantry Division.  

 

Jill and I walked this sacred place on a typical rainy Norman morning and while I have no direct connection to James Johnston, his life before the war, or his survivors following the war what you can discern from the marker is that Johnston was from North Carolina and was a commander in the same division and infantry regiment my dad served.  

Some of you know that my father landed at Utah Beach as an infantry replacement - a machine gunner in a heavy weapons platoon.  Dad participated in the battle of the hedgerows and subsequent breakout and dash across northern France.  His participation in the liberation of Belgium was intrerrupted by wounds incurred in combat and a recovery in England.  Upon release he was a member of the US Army of Occupation of Germany.

Of course, dad returned home from the war and lived a full and rewarding life. He worked quietly in a public school system and never spoke about his experiences in detail until I was in college. That James Johnston shared none of this is obvious.  

This is why Memorial Day is personal to me.

Research reveals that Johnston died from wounds suffered from the detonation of a German 88mm shell at the blood-stained Crossroads 114 near Acqueville just outside of Cherbourg.  Combat was fickle in the skirmishes and battle for the Norman countryside.  PFC Gaertner survived - Lt Col Johnston did not.

When it came time for a permanent burial, the families of the dead were asked if they wanted their loved ones repatriated for permanent burial in the U.S. or interred overseas.  For whatever reason, Lieutenant Colonel Johnston's remains lie here with approximately 461 graves belonging to 9th Infantry Division G.I.s.

Today it is useful to remember and honor the lives that brave men and women sacrificed.   Both of those lives.

_{Eight Stars to Victory - Mittelman, The Battery Press}