Monday, June 9, 2014 Cherbourg, FR

There was no breakfast at the hotel this morning, on Monday’s they do not open until 9 am and we had to catch the 8:43 bus. We were not informed about this when we paid in advance, but we were able to get reimbursed. After leaving 12 frantic messages at the bike shop yesterday, we were glad when the proprietor met us there around 8:00 AM to exchange the helmets and bike for our deposit.

We waited an hour at the bus stop, but the bus never showed up. Thinking we missed it, we went to the Post Office to mail a package home, but that was closed. Back at the hotel we found out that it was Pentecost Day and that everything was closed.

To take a cab to Cherbourg FR (port city in Normandy, above) where we were to take the 5 PM ferry would cost 120€ (about $170) so we decided to hitch. As Dennis was writing a sign a British couple arrived and they offered to take us to Carentan FR, but Dennis would have to sit in the back of a box truck with no light or windows and with a stuffed fox, deer head, and cow skins, along with other items they were purchasing to take back to England. We jumped at their offer. They even offered to mail our box for us—such angels!

In Carentan, we took the train (running on holiday schedule) to Cherbourg. Last year this town was buzzing with activity…this time, the streets were deserted (picture left). We found an open café and sat there munching on a Croque Monsieur and talking to patrons. We spoke with Air Force captains who flew over Normandy yesterday dropping the parachutists. One, Capt. Jake Fuchs, flew the third C-130 troop transport plane in the group. He was enjoying this event very much. The other Captain is the doctor that was in the drop zone on the ground. He was on hand to deal with any medical emergencies or injuries, but he was pleased to report it was an uneventful day, thank goodness. They were both thrilled that the day went so well.

From town, we walked about a mile to the port. On the way there while watching a man outrun bicyclists, I jammed my foot into a post and re-injured my foot. I hope my blackened toe will not prevent me from hiking.

We are now on British time, now only 5 hours difference from the US.

Sunday, June 8, 2014 Utah Beach

The little Peugeot. struggled up the hills as we made our way to Utah Beach. At one point the sparrows were flying faster than we were moving. Our top speed going down hill was 35 mph. But the little engine took us about 55 miles round trip, in about 2 hours. It looked so tiny compared to the “big boys” though we were never the envy of the other riders.

We were lucky to see a herd of about 40 horses running through the fields, enjoying the cool weather and early morning. We also saw 900 parachutists jump with the old-style chutes using a static line. They came, wave after wave, in groups of 5 to 20 jumpers.

For miles around the jump site, people lined the streets and it was difficult to get around, even with the small scooter. In Sainte-Marie-du-Mont, depicted in the television series Band of Brothers, was the first village to be liberated during the D-Day disembarkment at Utah Beach. There, the re-enactors erected a bivouac. There were a variety of army vehicles and people clad in the old-style uniforms. We even saw a parade of locals dressed in 40s garb and pushing baby buggies and riding old bikes. Lots of polka-dotted dresses. All the stores and cafés were full. We managed to buy a drink in the grocery store, and then sit on the commons to watch the people.

From there we proceeded to Utah Beach. The beach is lovely and at low tides revealed the long approach.

Unlike 70 years ago, there is aquaculture on the beaches. We could see the large tables, but could not tell what was being farmed.

There are a few monuments and statues and a museum. As we walked around the beach, there was a flyover and Dennis managed to capture one of the planes. Later during the day, he also captured the C47 in full battle paint for D-Day. It wore these colors so it wouldn’t be attacked by the allies.

We returned to Sainte-Mère-Église to identify a few buildings that were mentioned in a book we bought that captures eye-witness statements about that night. Though written in French, I hope to translate it for Dennis and help him better understand what his father experienced.

Again today we saw a biking club–all wearing the same red, blue, white shirts. A police motorcycle preceded the 1000 or more riders. This was not a race, but folks out for a pleasure ride.

We arrived back in La Haye-du-Puits in the late afternoon and everything in town is quite…all the stores and restaurants, except for a kebab/pizzeria are closed. Luckily I overheard heard someone mention it in the hotel, and we grabbed fair food in Sainte-Mère-Église,

June 7, 2014 Saint-Sauveur-le-Vicomte

Searching for dad

We put-puttered north for about 6 miles (10 km) to Saint-Sauveur-le-Vicomte to see if we could determine the location of the above photos. Dennis’s dad is the upper right man in the top photo and the one standing third from the left and near the blur of the flash in the lower picture.

After visiting the château (below) we went to the museum. It was a literary one, not one about the town, and was of no help. They did suggest we visit the florist who had interest in WWII and a display in her shop’s window. She suggested we talk with Mde. Paulette Marie (right), who was fifteen at the time of liberation and who might be able to pinpoint where the pictures were taken.

She most graciously accepted us in her home and talked with us for about an hour. She took out a collection of pre-WWII postcards of the town to see if we could identify the location from these. We could not. She suggested that the photos could have been taken in a courtyard.

After leaving her, we stopped at an old café. Though the owner was young, he recognized the upper photo from a promo leaflet; he did not know where it was taken. We left the town no wiser than before we arrived.

Friday, June 6, Sainte-Mère-Église, FR

D-Day +70 years

We replaced the bicycles with a motor scooter. We buzzed (like a hive of bees) to Sainte-Mère-Église, travelling only about twice as fast as we did peddling. The highest speed was around 30 mph (50 km). Dennis commented that the motorbike was giving it its all to climb the hills, but so was I the day before.

The weather was perfect with clear skies and temps in the mid 70s, though it was a bit windy. The locales were all dressed in summer outfits and getting sun-burned. 20140606_164156 D-day celebrations

In town, about 20, 000 people (perhaps more) filled the streets. All ages and nationalities. There was a sense of expectancy and excitement. Around the square there were perhaps twenty each beer and sausage pavilions, as well as ice cream and crepes vendors, souvenirs stands, and recruiters for the French military.

From the band stand the politicians droned on and the men’s choir sang an occasional song, either nationalistic or from the 40s. The acoustics were terrible. We stood in line for about an hour to buy a sausage sandwich for Dennis, and then sat in the shade for him to eat it. Sitting near us was a family from Normandy dressed in military garb. The little girl was darling. Many people photographed that family, and the boy was very willing to pose.

At 5 PM there was a fly-over with the C47s and the parade started. There were 1200 Americans marching in the band, mostly ROTC and high school bands, some carrying photos of relatives. Several returning vets paraded in military vehicles or were pushed in wheel chairs. You can see how happy he was. This morning the paper reported that a British veteran was found and returned to his nursing home; he was bound for Normandy and the celebrations–many were here in spirit if not in body.

Later that evening there were more celebrations and fireworks, but we left after the parade.