"courage, dear heart": Raising Private Ryan

We invaded the beaches of Normandy over Labor Day weekend.

There it is. I have been waiting a (nerdy) long time to use that opening line.

Pathetic.

We took it by storm.

(I. Can. Not. Stop.)

Our young family.

Five lives forever altered.

*okay*

Let me back up.

At the advisement of my life coach, Rick Steves, we first visited Rouen, the quaint northern French town made famous for the public torching of Jeanne D'Arc.

Or for you peasants, Joan of Arc.

Which was also me until I said it out loud three or six times.

"Who is this Jeanne D'Arc? Tell me, I beg yo. . . err...okay. I got it. Never mind."

What a happy homeschooling coincidence that my daughter had *just* been studying her fiery demise and was able to make a pilgrimage to the site of the 14th century execution.

...And of course, the accompanying cathedral to her honor.

Because, well, you can't have a martyr without a church to smooth things over.

Europe would just be wineries without them.

Now, look, who don't doesn't love the story of Joan?

Everyone.

But, to be honest, the town of Rouen was more "Meh."

Mr. Richard Steves is obviously taking kick-backs from the Rouen Chamber of Commerce because the famous Renaissance clock and Joan's boat-shaped cathedral just aren't worth the price of parking.

Next up, Honfleur. Now, this place, is A-DORABLE. IN CAPS.

Of course, Claude Monet's earliest foray into impressionism was in the colorful coastal harbor of this charming village. Of.Course.

I fell in love at first step. Meandering cobblestone streets -portend a Brothers Grimm storybook.

And the watery, colorful artistry splattered across 19th century architecture seems to demand some tribute from a passersby.
From say, a French painter in a beret.

Fortunately, Monet captured its unassuming splendor so brilliantly.
Me, with my camera, not so much.

The presence of a beautiful carousal, in a lovely French harbor village seemed a fait accompli.

Also, finding the Americans on it was like finding an elephant in a room.

Yep.

In fairness, European children are pretty much mute.

Like runway-ready mimes.

Now, to the serious stuff- the beaches of Normandy.

Here's what I fear:

I fear my sons will know too much comfort.

I fear that peacetime will spoil my children.

I fear that the prosperity earned by the blood, sweat and tears of the greatest generation will be squandered by a generation too lazy, indulgent and coddled to appreciate it.

This I cannot abide.

So, we will help our kids remember.
They will be students of history.
Debtors to their forefathers.
Mindful of their duty.

What we did do is take our sons and our daughter to where the first feet left their sandy imprints on Utah beach to turn the tide of history forever.

A historic imprint for a cause so sublimely noble, so utterly gallant, so supremely brave it defies the imagination.

And it did for my kids.

(Phew- cause I wasn't sure how that was going to play out).

Honestly, they were riveted.

Stop #1

First, at the darling town of Arromanches, Port Winston was the brilliantly improvised harbor named in honor of its brainchild (Churchill) built to rapidly off-load cargo in preparation of D-Day.

Arromanches offers a D-Day invasion movie at their "360 degree" theater that brought my kids to reverential silence.

A feat few things achieve. And they were enthralled.

It was worth every euro if it keeps them an ironic beard.

Kidding.

Sort of.

Stop #2 Longues Sur-Mer German Gun Battery

Then, we explored some old German artillery which still featured the original guns. Umm. Right, so, my boys were OB-SESSED with this portion of our adventure. They were throwing themselves all over the weaponry.

I think they would have slept on the guns if we would have allowed it.

Stop #3 American Cemetery

If I were queen of the world, I would compel every millennial, to spend a day, in silence, at this memorial.

Scratch that.

Every American.

(Okay, and maybe every Frenchmen too)

Paying homage to the sacrifice of the 209,000 who died in the campaign to take these beaches and ultimately free Europe from the grip of Axis power was staggering. Sobering.

Humbling.

Most importantly, it was for my children. They stood-transfixed- before the graves of brothers: Childhood playmates, comrades in battle, fallen brothers at rest.

Everyone should go there. And be changed.

Stop #4 Utah Beach

A beach so deep and wide- the German artillery had their pick. An endless stretch of sand that has absorbed untold blood, sweat and tears.

There, peril met valor on a sandy battlefield.

And blessedly lost.

Stop #5 Pointe Du Hoc

On June 6, 1944, 225 American Army Rangers were tasked with the impossible mission to climb the cliffs of Pointe Du Hoc and take out the German's guns.

Two days later, only 90 Rangers remained, bearing arms from this daring, but critical invasion. 90. Just 90 men. But, they did it. Mission accomplished.

"[They] are men who in [their] 'lives fought for life...and left the vivid air signed with [their] honor.'"

(To borrow from Reagan's speech who borrowed from Spender's poem.)

I want to raise men like that.

Taking it all in- Kincaid declared, "When I grow up, I want to be soldier."

At least, he didn't say he wanted to be a barista.

Seriously, that kind of gallantry makes me swoon.

But, it wasn't all Reagan and Tom Hanks cinematic moments.

(Though, there was a lot of that, I am not going to lie.)

Here's some of the low-lights

1). Our bed and breakfast hosts spoke ZERO English. ZERO. Zilch. But, were effectively able to communicate that our kids were too loud.

Somehow that translated.

2) Jason drove a stick shift for the first time in *20 years* through the swerving French countryside.

So.....

3) Eowyn threw up all over the place just before we got on our flight home.

(I was like, "Ummm, sweetie, can you hurry this up, s'il vous plait! We have have plane to catch.")

In close (Geez- this was longer than I intended)

You should watch Reagan's Pointe Du Hoc speech here (we made our kids do it).

If not, here's sound bite from that brilliant speech by Reagan in 1984 .

It's guaranteed to fortify you against becoming an unpatriotic, spineless deplorable.
*wink*

"Here, in this place where the West held together, let us make a vow to our dead. Let us show them by our actions that we understand what they died for. . . Strengthened by their courage, heartened by their value [valor], and borne by their memory, let us continue to stand for the ideals for which they lived and died." -Ronald Reagan

I am standing with him.

And by God's grace, so will my kids.