WWII is something contemporary readers already know a lot about. If our schools are doing their jobs, they know about the invasion of Normandy, the Hitler Youth, the Holocaust, and at least a few of the horrors of the Eastern Front.
I was in the invasion of Normandy in southern France.
The height of human desire is what wins, whether it’s on Normandy Beach or in Ohio Stadium.
That road to V-E Day was hard and long, and traveled by weary and valiant men. And history will always record where that road began. It began here, with the first footprints on the beaches of Normandy.
there on the beaches of Normandy I began to reflect on the wonders of these ordinary people whose lives were laced with the markings of greatness.
I can't count how many of my friends are in the cemetery at Normandy, the heroes are still there, the real heroes.
I tell people my breasts were made in Normandy from butter and creme fraiche.
This is our problem, our dilemma, yes? We cannot celebrate and declare ourselves to belong to the victorious nations because our brothers and our fathers and grandfathers died in this battle [in Normandy], yes. I understand that the Americans and the British and French celebrate one of the greatest and most important military victories in history. And I understand this. I don't see a reasonable place for the Germans. We watch everything on the television with compassion and sympathy.
