On the greatest day of the greatest generation, Americans of all creeds, colors, and backgrounds stormed the beaches of Normandy, France, to secure the blessings of liberty for those whose freedom had been stolen by tyrants.
by Michael Naragon
They dropped from the sky, parachutes strapped to their backs, in the black of night. They dropped their bombs on enemy bunkers with deadly precision. They guided their ships in the rough seas of the English Channel. They stepped into the salty, hip-deep waters of the Atlantic, desperate to find cover in the murderous hail of German bullets.
They fell on French soil–in places called Omaha, Utah, St. Mere-Eglise, Pointe-du-Hoc–their blood consecrating the ground for the ideals in which they believed and the Republic which they defended with their very lives.
They were from Indiana, from Maine, from Kansas, from California, from every corner of the United States. They were sons, boyfriends, fiances, husbands, fathers. They were Catholics, Baptists, Presbyterians, Methodists, Jews. They were machinists, teachers, plumbers, engineers, mechanics, shopkeepers, patriots, heroes. They were Americans.
Their willingness to sacrifice themselves for their nation and its principles of truth, justice, and liberty set them apart for all time. A still grateful America says “thank you” to those men, the living and the fallen, who have honored us so graciously with their example.
