On this day in 1944 the allies launched an invasion along a 50-mile stretch of beaches in Normandy, France. It began shortly after midnight when 24,000 paratroopers landed behind enemy lines to try to secure bridges for the ground troops. At 6:30 AM a flotilla of 5000 ships, handled by 195,000 personnel, launched landing crafts filled with 160,000 men. Nearly 3000 of them gave their lives that day in defense of the freedom the western world holds so dear. Their courage was astounding. Those who landed early, especially at the area designated as Omaha, were cannon fodder. There is a snippet of archival footage of the event seared into my memory: a young man, thousand of miles from home, falling, wounded or killed. Darryl F. Zanuck's The Longest Day was the definitive Hollywood take on the invasion until Steven Spielberg's harrowing Saving Private Ryan was released. No film will ever capture the carnage better than that. I felt almost like a voyeur watching it. Curiously, Titanic had the same effect on me. I thought: here I am getting off on what were real events, real deaths, not fictional mayhem. Ken Burns' PBS series The War does a great job on that massive undertaking as well. Those men were truly our Greatest Generation. We contemporary folk whine that their our fabulous privileges aren't enough.
There were some awkward moments today at the floating bookshop. Frankie the Drunk stumbled by on his it-must-be-pay-day Monday jag. Fortunately, he bumped into me only twice and immediately staggered away without pausing for conversation. Later, Lawrence, who is by my guess mildly autistic and in his mid 30's, asked for advice on speaking to women. I told him to just say hi and be nice and, if they seem receptive, to talk about the weather or something non-threatening. I suspect most women will be afraid of him. I have no idea where he could go to meet females like himself. He is far from hopeless. He has a part-time job at a supermarket, although I wonder if he'd be able to handle more than that. He lives with his father, who must be a patient man. Lawrence asks a lot of questions. Whenever I see young men like Frankie and Lawrence, I always hear my mother's voice saying: "Povere mama," her stock comment on the troubled. Unfortunately, life will not let every parent escape the worst nightmares.
Thanks to the kind folks who purchased enough books today to enable me to order the full monty at Waz's gyro truck.
I'm getting closer to opening my alternate website. Until then many links will lead nowhere. Sorry.
http://vicfortezza.homestead.com/
No comments:
Post a Comment