Nobility is
Not to be forgotten. Strive
To remember theirs.
I woke up this morning with a serious stomach problem that wouldn't allow me to eat properly. I wanted, however, to see the American Military Cemetery we had been thwarted by yesterday evening, so we set out. The going was slow. But I am so happy we went.
The cemetery is staggering. There are more than 10,000 American soldiers at rest there, and the site is at the top of Omaha beach, which is where they stormed for D-Day. Looking at how the land lays and imagining fighting up the bluffs there is sobering, and the fields of neatly-spaced white crosses and stars of David standing over neatly-manicured emerald lawns are more than a bit heart-wrenching. There simply isn't much I can say about going there. There was a pile of flowers left by those who had been by, and a few couples and single people old enough to remember for themselves wandered through the rows. I couldn't understand the man talking on his cellphone as he strolled around, or the gaggle of high school children laughing and punching each other's arms. Although we couldn't make it for D-Day proper, tribute to this sort of thing shouldn't really have to have a day, and I'm glad I had the chance to see it for myself.
After the cemetery, I wasn't in shape to make it much further. After about 20km, we had to call it quits, and I slept in the tent while Evan attempted to use our stove to prepare food for himself, only to discover that the pump was broken. Some mechanically handy British people a couple campsites over helped him out, and I guess he wound up with a pretty tasty meal.