Letters from Josh
D Day Letter 85 6/6/22
Howdy, folks! It’s a nice day to go to the waterside, but today is for remembering the beaches of 78 years past. You see, it’s D-Day. I went for a run. The morning was stunningly beautiful. Goldfinches chattered by the thistles, pairs of Bluebirds swooped across the field, and the Red-Eyed Vireo was perched in his tree, starting his summer concert series of birdsong. The bees, living up to their phrase, were busy. We added a new box to one of the hives, stacking it three tall so they can pack it full of honey. The farm has seen its first haycutting in years, with round bales parked here and there all around the pastures. (It seems they have the same mysterious life force as a jack o lantern, and must roll around when nobody’s looking.)
The pastures reminded me of a nurse buddy I had. Her name was Tharon, and she’s gone now. She worked stateside at a hotel converted to army hospital, treating the wounded from Normandy. After they had a beachhead, the Allies pushed inland to another level of nastiness. Lots of the boys got shot in the farm fields, which led to rampant infection for Tharon and her crew to battle on home soil. When the war ended, the hospital closed. Her patients who were still recovering were sent home. Without penicillin, they died. I wasn’t even aware of that wave of loss until she told me her story one rainy February evening.
I’ve watched many programs, and have met veterans who were involved in Operation Overlord. The question looms: what do we do with this? It seems good to know specifics: what these men did, and how they walked into hellfire - and won. We should know the cost: 4,414 Allies lost on the day alone.
Multiply that out (by a factor of your choosing) for the effect on families and communities. Bedford, VA is just up the road - that’s where I took my bee class. The Bedford Boys will be forever remembered for their sacrifice. 19 men from the tiny town were killed within the first hour at Omaha beach. (The highest per-capita loss of any town in America.)
So what do we do? I keep hearing this phrase: Hard times create strong men. Strong men create good times. Good times create weak men. Weak men create hard times. Looking around (and at myself), I would agree with that. Looking west towards Bedford, I can see a lone cloud by the mountains. Remembering the Boys, I’ll be taking the beautiful day they afforded me…to do what needs to be done. - Josh