During the trip, I was blessed with some rare opportunities that enhanced and magnified what I saw:
- the rare chance to see the many French military veterans gathered for a ceremony at the Arc d'Triomphe and the French Tomb of the Unknown which was covered in memorial flowers as aged-veterans hovered closely nearby
- to walk along Utah and Omaha beaches at sunset with the waves gently lapping the shore
- to see the many British and French school children as they toured the sacred memorials of World War I scattered across northern France and Belgium and listen to their teachers explain the war and its effects
- to face the gale force frigid winds on the steps of the Canadian memorial at Vimy Ridge and try to imagine how the young men 90+ years ago endured this in the trenches
- to look out over the farm fields that seven centuries earlier had seen one of the great military conflicts of history and remember how the mud had sucked the life from the vaunted French knights
- to walk under the Menin Gate as the names of 54,000+ looked down upon me and I hoped that somewhere each name was remembered for the special person they had been
- to see the sunset on the fields of Waterloo on the 195th anniversary
- to eat BBQ ribs at Buffalo Bills in Amiens
- to hear the eager young Canadian college student explain proudly how he was chosen to serve for 4 months at his nation's place to honor its heroes and offer us a tour
- to walk through the German cemeteries and ossuaries where we saw no other visitors and no school groups visited but simple crosses with as many as four names each stretched across vast distances
- to realize there was no mention of French General Henri Petain at Verdun where he had helped to save his nation in WWI but fell into disgrace for his collaboration in WWII
- to see the end of a promotion ceremony in the French army at the French Army Museum chapel at the Invalides
- to watch the eerie cool mist rise over the grounds between Fort Douomont and Fort Veaux at Verduan and imagine the terrific destruction and chaos that had consumed the entire area
- to walk down the Unter den Linden in Berlin and let my mind imagine what once had been
- to see the beautiful and fragrant rose garden in Prague in full bloom and gaze upon several peace roses and remember the bushes from my grandparents home where they always seemed to be in bloom in front of the house
- to find the dragon and then realize how few ever would see it or know the men that it honored
- and finally to sit in the Frankfurt airport and talk to young men and women who themselves were returning on leave from the wars of our time, including one who had attended my college campus at one time, and hear their excitement to see their familes and be away from the sand and the heat as I wondered about the memorials that are still to be built.....
Soon, I will again continue my summer's journey but within the US, as I head east-northeast to examine the commemorations from America's wars from the Revolution to current conflicts, but I will forever remember my European jaunt and the haunting images of centuries of conflict and lives lost and remembered.