By Paul G. Kengor
Editor’s note: This piece first appeared at The American Spectator on June 6, 2011.
For me, Memorial Day happens twice within a week. The first, the
official holiday at the end of May, is quickly reinforced a week later,
every June 6: D-Day.
Of all the wartime anniversaries, none strike me quite like D-Day —
the invasion of Normandy, the liberation of France, the final push to
defeat Nazi Germany. It was June 6, 1944, a date that sticks like
December 7, like July 4, like September 11. The mix of extreme sorrow
and triumph has been unforgettably replicated on film by Steven
Spielberg in the stunning opening of Saving Private Ryan.
What must it have been like to be among those first waves at the beaches? Indescribable, simply indescribable.
When I think of D-Day, I always think of two presidents, neither of
which were president at the time: Dwight “Ike” Eisenhower and Ronald
Reagan. What they had to say about the event was profound.