Saturday, June 23, 9:58 p.m. CEST

“If ever proof were needed that we fought for a cause and not for conquest, it could be found in these cemeteries. Here was our only conquest: all we asked… was enough… soil in which to bury our gallant dead.” General Mark W. Clark, Chairman, American Battle Monuments Commission, 1969-1984

Words are often an inadequate way to express emotion’s true breadth and depth. Mary and I, and many in our delegation, had read the accounts of the D-Day assaults, seen the movie Saving Private Ryan, and watched news reels of ceremonies at the American Cemetery in Normandy, France. But to stand on that sacred land – to look below at the sands of Omaha Beach and the churning waters of the English Channel – brings realism to and a deeper understanding of what was arguably one of the single most important days in world history. Words cannot sufficiently describe what we saw, but more important, what we felt.

On our visit to the American Cemetery, we saw the story in reverse, going through the battlegrounds of the days immediately after D-Day before arriving at the beaches themselves. Driving through the Norman countryside, we immediately could see why the battles to liberate that portion of France were fierce and often long. The roads were then and are now quite narrow. Hedge rows, a necessity for containing the ubiquitous dairy cows, were dangerous because you had to fight one to another, never sure what size force was entrenched on the opposite side. Villages of small houses and churches provided plenty of cover for the retreating enemy.

The grave of PFC Thomas B. Nix, a young Georgia infantryman killed on D-Day plus 4. PFC Nix served in the 18th Infantry Regiment, 1st Infantry Division, and was awarded the Silver Star and the Purple Heart. He is buried in Plot B, Row 22, Grave 43 at the American Cemetery at Colleville-sue-Mer in Normandy.

Soon, though, we arrived at the meticulously landscaped American Cemetery now situated directly above Omaha Beach. There were five landing zones all told, spread out along a fifty-mile front. The British and Canadians contained the three easternmost beaches: Sword, Juno, and Gold. The American divisions assaulted the two on the western flank: Utah and, of course, Omaha.

Rows of crosses, aligned in military precision, gleam in the morning sun at the American Cemetery in Normandy. The English Channel can be seen in the background.

Most visitors come to Omaha, because it is the site of the most horrific struggles that first day of the invasion. Yet few people realize that the United States government, through an organization called the American Battle Monuments Commission, actually manages the cemetery and surrounding grounds. A new visitor center, less than one month in operation, is now onsite. Our group was met inside the center by Mr. Dan Neese, Superintendent of the Cemetery and we toured the facility’s exhibits on the weeks and even hours leading up to D-Day and then the invasion itself.

Superintendent Neese, Governor Perdue, and Mary Perdue listen to the stories of individual soldiers buried at the American Cemetery

The center shows a twenty-minute movie that adds voices and faces to the whole experience. Using letters written by soldiers and testimonials of surviving friends and family, the words tell first-hand stories of the men who were part of a history-changing event: the young farm boy from Wisconsin, the gifted basketball player from Arkansas, the carefree kid from California, the intelligent officer from West Virginia. These were Americans who sacrificed their lives to a simple yet powerful concept: that all men should live freely. They joined the ranks of thousands before them who were just everyday citizens of our country who did what they did because they believed it to be right.

Standing in front of a detailed map, Mr. Nigel Stewart of the American Cemetery, explains the military maneuvers of the actual battle on D-Day, June 6, 1944. Governor Perdue, far right, is joined by members of the Georgia delegation.

Our group then walked through the Garden of the Missing, where the names of 1,557 servicemen are inscribed in a wall, their resting place known only to God. A short set of stairs led to an open plaza from which we had our first look at the thousands of grave markers, crosses and stars of David, stretching before us in a literal sea of white marble. Almost 10,000 of them, each representing a husband, son, brother, nephew, friend… a life cut unnaturally and horribly short, ending dreams and devastating families. A staff person at the cemetery told us that if all the American dead of the battle of Normandy, which went for another two months or so after D-Day, were to be interred, then two more additional cemeteries of equal size would be necessary.

We formed a semicircle around a statue named “The Spirit of American Youth Rising from the Waves,” a symbolic tribute to the valorous heroes laid to rest before it. We face two large American flags, briskly waving in a stiff wind. The Star-Spangled Banner began to play, and people all over the vast grounds stopped in honor of our country. Immediately thereafter, Mary and I were honored to lay a wreath at the statue’s base on behalf of all the citizens of Georgia. The park once again stood still as “Taps” played.    Before we left the ceremony and walked the grounds of the cemetery, I told our group that eloquent words escaped me. And that’s true. When you stand there and look at the graves of so many patriots who were perfectly willing to fight and die for concepts so powerful as human freedom and dignity, you don’t need to say anything. Words add nothing. The men, through their actions, said everything that needed to be said. And they ended it with an exclamation point that resonated throughout the world and through the chronicles of history.

The 22-foot bronze statue, “The Spirit of American Youth Rising from the Waves,” looks towards the thousands of graves of American soldiers buried at the cemetery. At the foot of the statute lies a wreath of red, white, and blue flowers with a banner reading, “On Behalf of the Citizens of the State of Georgia, Governor and Mrs. Perdue.”

General Eisenhower, in a dedication ceremony at St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, said, “To these we owe the high resolve that the cause for which they died shall live.” A visit to the American Cemetery at Normandy certainly strengthened that resolve in all of us. Thank God for those brave young men, both the fallen and those who lived to fight another day, and what they did on June 6 to liberate the world.

Governor and Mrs. Perdue silently pray after laying a wreath on behalf of Georgia citizens at the American Cemetery in Normandy, France. In the background is Mr. Dan Neese, Superintendent of the cemetery.