On June 6, we commemorated the 80th anniversary of the D-Day landings, and upon reflection, it made me think back to a personal story of mine involving D-Day that I would like to share. Last year, I was fortunate enough to join the Shawnigan European History Tour, where we focused on visiting historical sites related to The First and Second World Wars. We were able to see many incredible sites, like Soviet monuments in Berlin which were the size of city blocks, and the Impressive Vimy Ridge memorial, which stood so tall it seemed to touch the sky. All these sites reflected the monumental scale of their conflicts, and I was excited to see what was next when we were heading to see the site of D-Day.

 

For context, D-Day was a massive military operation conducted by Allied forces on June 6, 1944 in Normandy, France, and it was done as the first stage of the liberation of Europe from Nazi Germany. For years, countries under Nazi occupation were subjected to fascist rule and human rights violations, with millions being killed under their occupation.

 

On the day of the attack, over 160,000 men took part in the operation, many of them around the age of 20. They served either as paratroopers, seamen, airmen, or foot soldiers. Facing them was the Atlantic Wall, a line of concrete defenses going along the Atlantic Coast of mainland Europe, spanning from the border between France and Spain up into Norway, and armed with barbed wire, mines, bunkers and machine guns. The men who took part in the landings were about to step into hell.

 

The landings took place on five beaches, and the United States, Britain, and Canada took on the challenge. The US took Utah and Omaha, Britain took Sword and Gold, and Canada took Juno.

 

It was that last beach, Juno, where our tour group was going to visit. Getting off the bus, I noticed how beautiful the day was, I noticed the houses and stores along the water, and I noticed the towns folk walking around on their daily strolls. I even eventually saw one of our students jump in the water for a swim, but the one thing I did not notice was the signs of a monumental battle. Sure, there was a museum with artifacts and a lone bunker we could wander through, but overall, there was just a beach.

 

I was a bit disappointed. Where were the towering statues? Where were the scars of shell holes and explosions? Why was a site as historically significant as this remembered this way? Because there wasn’t much – there was just a beach. 

 

Four thousand, four hundred and fourteen troops died on the first day of the attack, 381 of which were Canadian. By the end of the entire campaign, over 5,000 Canadians were killed, including Shawnigan’s own William Ferguson, who is one of the members of our honour roll. You can find his gravestone in Normandy, etched with Shawnigan’s motto: Palmam Qui Meruit Ferat – Let whoever earns the palm bear it.

 

These troops faced fierce opposition. Those landing on the beaches took the defenses head-on, with little to no cover to protect them. Some jumped from planes under the cover of night, amid heavy anti-aircraft fire, landing in hostile territory, often finding themselves alone when they landed. Some men even used gliders, planes without engines, to crash land in Normandy, and take key positions.

 

D-Day is significant for more than just how brazen it was. It is significant because it was a time when the world united for a common goal. It is significant because it led to the end of the largest conflict in human history. It is significant because of the millions who were soon freed from Nazi occupation. It is significant because men such as Capt. Carlton Allen, Maj. Kenneth S. Osler, Capt. W. Ludovic Stewart Macleod, and Lt. William S. Ferguson, alumni of Shawnigan, sacrificed their lives during this grand operation.

 

With these thoughts in mind, my mind changed on how the sites like Juno Beach were remembered. They are an example of how precious normal, everyday things can be, like jumping in the water for a swim. No longer was Normandy an example of war or oppression, it was a place where one could live an ordinary life, thanks to the effort and sacrifices the people listed on Shawnigan’s Roll of Honour and many more made for others that day. Now, when people ask me about how it was to visit Normandy on that trip, I say, “It was breathtaking – because it was just a beach.”