D-Day Plus Sixty

The sixtieth anniversary of the Allied invasion of Normandy.

How poignant that Ronald Reagan died this weekend. Two of his more memorable speeches were delivered at the fortieth anniversary of D-Day, twenty years ago today, June 6, 1984.

Here is his speech at the U.S. Ranger Monument in Pointe du Hoc, France:

We're here to mark that day in history when the Allied armies joined in battle to reclaim this continent to liberty. For four long years, much of Europe had been under a terrible shadow. Free nations had fallen, Jews cried out in the camps, millions cried out for liberation. Europe was enslaved, and the world prayed for its rescue. Here in Normandy the rescue began. Here the Allies stood and fought against tyranny in a giant undertaking unparalleled in human history.

We stand on a lonely, windswept point on the northern shore of France. The air is soft, but 40 years ago at this moment, the air was dense with smoke and the cries of men, and the air was filled with the crack of rifle fire and the roar of cannon. At dawn, on the morning of the 6th of June, 1944, 225 Rangers jumped off the British landing craft and ran to the bottom of these cliffs. Their mission was one of the most difficult and daring of the invasion: to climb these sheer and desolate cliffs and take out the enemy guns. The Allies had been told that some of the mightiest of these guns were here and they would be trained on the beaches to stop the Allied advance....

And his speech, later that day, at Omaha Beach:

Mr. President, distinguished guests, we stand today at a place of battle, one that 40 years ago saw and felt the worst of war. Men bled and died here for a few feet of — or inches of sand, as bullets and shellfire cut through their ranks. About them, General Omar Bradley later said, "Every man who set foot on Omaha Beach that day was a hero."

No speech can adequately portray their suffering, their sacrifice, their heroism. President Lincoln once reminded us that through their deeds, the dead of battle have spoken more eloquently for themselves than any of the living ever could. But we can only honor them by rededicating ourselves to the cause for which they gave a last full measure of devotion....

Last week, the local paper ran a series of articles on local veterans who had participated in D-Day:

• USS Quincy fired first volley (Bob Randolph)
• Murray was part of first wave (Chuck Murray)
• Operation Tiger haunts him (Tom Sollosi)
• Essey manned the big guns (Sam Essey)
• Gatto hit the beach running (Mike Gatto)

On this anniversary, more perhaps than any other, it is appropriate to ponder the truth of an aphorism that I quoted a while back:

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sun. 06/06/04 09:36:39 AM
Categorized as Historical & Ronald Reagan & Speeches and Suchlike.

Day Two of the Novena of the Litany of Our Lord Jesus Christ, Priest and Victim

In prospect of the American bishops' meeting in Denver, June 14 through June 20, 2004.

Vide et ora.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sun. 06/06/04 09:15:39 AM
Categorized as Religious.

Trinity Sunday

Lege.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sun. 06/06/04 07:42:13 AM
Categorized as Religious.

Three by Plunkett I

Three poems by Joseph Mary Plunkett.

O Lovely Heart

O lovely heart! O Love
No more be sorrowful
Blue are the skies above
The Spring is beautiful
And all the flowers
Are blest with gentle showers.

Although the morning skies
Are heavy now with rain
And your incredulous eyes
Are wondering at your pain,
Let them but weep.
And after give them sleep.

O sorrowful! O heart
Whose joy is difficult
Though we two are apart—
Know you shall yet exult
And all the years
Be fresher for your tears.

(from "Earlier and Later Poems")

O Bright! thy Stateliness and Grace

O Bright! thy stateliness and grace
Thy bearing and thy dignity
Bring intuition of the place
That still is native unto thee.

Solely thy native airs delight
Can still thy silences embalm,
Solely thy native leven smite
Through thunders of unbroken calm.

A twyfold presence is and seems
To emanate from thine atmosphere,
Clothed in reality and dreams
It is in heaven, and it is here.

The forms of love enfolding thee
To flowers of earth and heaven belong,
Whose roots take hold in mystery
Too deep for song, too deep for song.

(from "Earlier and Later Poems")

White Dove of the Wild Dark Eyes

White Dove of the wild dark eyes
Faint silver flutes are calling
From the night where the star-mists rise
And fire-flies falling
Tremble in starry wise,
Is it you they are calling?

White Dove of the beating heart
Shrill golden reeds are thrilling
In the woods where the shadows start,
While moonbeams, filling
With dreams the floweret's heart
Its dreams are thrilling.

White Dove of the folded wings,
Soft purple night is crying
With the voice of fairy things
For you, lest dying
They miss your flashing wings,
Your splendorous flying.

(from "Earlier and Later Poems")

The Poems of Joseph Mary Plunkett (1916), pp. 63, 65, 66. The book is on line here.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sun. 06/06/04 07:36:28 AM
Categorized as Literary & Sunday Poetry Series.