Side Note: Currently writing this on Memorial Day, because patriotism is rampant today.
Original Date: Tuesday, May 12th, 2015
So before I left for Paris, I visited my high school to talk to my old Chorus teacher, Mr. Blanchette. He gave me all sorts of suggestions for what to do in Paris, but he said a side trip I definitely had to take was to the Normandy beaches. I agreed wholeheartedly. I mean, I totally geeked out with my WWII Battle Presentation, reading my dad's copy of Flags of Our Fathers and researching zealously.
However, Normandy began to fade from my mind. Sure, in February, when I first had my, Oh, shit, I really need to figure out what to do for break thought, I researched into buying a ticket to Normandy. But it seemed overly complex for my brain running at 12 am, so I decided to save it for another time.
I might've forgotten completely--and hated myself forever--if I hadn't stumbled across this Mental Floss article titled "The Most Amazing Lie in History." Seriously, read it. If not now, later. I actually cried--but then again, I am a basket of emotions. This article renewed my desire to visit Normandy, and this time I looked into the trip seriously.
"Train ticket from Paris to Normandy." Seemed like an innocuous enough search. But I was getting weird results: Brittany and Caen. Where was Normandy? I scrolled and scrolled.
Turns out, as some of you probably know, Normandy isn't a city in France--it isn't even a town. It's an area. So asking Google how to get to Normandy is like asking how to get to the West Coast--yes, I know, but where? Thankfully, there was a great sight for dumb tourists like me. It informed me that the above cities--Brittany and Caen--were the best bets, as they had museums and tours and such.
Brittany was good for--well, I'm not entirely sure. I immediately zeroed in on Caen because Caen had the tour leading to the American Cemetery. The description was perfect. I searched for a price and then nearly fell off my seat.
117 euros. Oh boy.
I thought this would be a tough sell to my parents, but I forgot that my father is also a WWII freak. He watches History Channel for all sorts of cool facts but also just for the long documentaries. We both read Flags of Our Fathers; it's a common topic we return to.
He told me that I couldn't put a price on this experience. My mom agreed.
The train ticket to Caen was already around 100 euros. But I didn't try to pretend to feel bad about the money. I really wanted to see this museum at Caen, to see the beaches.
When Tuesday arrived, I woke up at 4:30 am--yes, Mom, I really did--to catch my train. It would take half an hour to get to Gare St. Lazare, then my train was leaving around 6 am. I'd arrive in Caen just before 8 am, and mere hours after I booked my tour, I got a kind email from someone at the company, stating I should go to the Meeting Point at the Caen Station and there I'd meet my tour guide as well as my fellow tour members.
Given my miss with Giverny (oh, I'll get into that eventually), I was not taking any chances. I was at the train station by 5 am, pacing around nervously as I ate a giant pretzel beignet. (French breakfast is basically dessert.) I almost cried when I saw a train headed for Caen leave, but I realized that there was no way my train could leave early, so I tried to calm down.
Lots of intro, I know, but it's important that you understand how excited I was. I've wanted to see this since eighth grade--seven years. But I was feeling slightly blue because my father was the one who truly deserved to see this sight, and I wished he were there.
But Dad would've told me instantly to stop feeling sorry for myself and for him, so when I boarded the train, the excitement began thrumming again.
Mom told me that I should stay awake to see the French countryside. But it was still 6 am, and I couldn't sustain my excitement to keep me awake for that long. So I promptly fell asleep.
The upside was that I was completely refreshed and practically buoyant as we rode into Caen.
Meeting with my tour group was far easier than it ever was meeting with my Art History class. Ha! Anyway, I met my tour guide--like an idiot, I cannot remember her name. Let's call her Lena (pronounced like the second part of the name Elena) because I'm 90% sure that was actually her name. Lena seemed surprised to see me, and I soon saw why: all the other members of the tour group were elderly couples. All American, as this tour was specifically visiting the American Cemetery, but from all across America. One couple was from Ohio, another from Virginia. But the couple from Florida is who I became closest with.
"I like your bracelet."
"Hmm?" I turned around, and I was looking down at this woman who looked to be around my mother's age. "You mean my Alex and Ani bracelets?" For this occasion, I was wearing my red, white, and blue beaded bracelets.
"No, your Cape Cod bracelet."
I was shocked. Nobody really notices my Cape Cod bracelet, mostly because I wear it everyday. It also is pretty contained to the Northeast. So I was confused. Didn't this woman just say her and her husband were from Florida? How did she know what my bracelet was called?
She soon answered my unspoken question just by holding up her wrist, revealing an identical silver bracelet.
"You go to Cape Code?" I guess I was so shocked that I could only state the obvious.
"We go every Fourth of July to see our son. He lives in Boston but owns a beach house on Cape Cod."
"Where?"
"Chatham."
"Oh, I know Chatham! I stayed there with my friend Allison once. I remember the hotel distinctly because they served pineapple pancakes at breakfast." I couldn't believe I just said that, but the couple began chuckling. Feeling the need to contribute real information to the conversation, I added, "Our family goes every summer too, the week after the Fourth of July. We stay in Orleans, but my foster sister has a beach house in Brewster." They nodded knowingly.
The husband introduced himself as Joey. And after that, thinking of Grandpa, I attached myself to their hips.
So they were the Grassos. Shit. I can't remember the other couples' last names. Damn it!
We all piled into a spacious van, and the tour guide sat in the front seat while our driver--Alain--took the wheel. Lena spoke in a soothing tone, not too harsh for early in the morning. But she wasn't going to let us sleep.
She pointed outside. "Caen used to be known as the City of 100 Spires. But you can see that there aren't many spires as you look out. When the Allies were preparing for D-Day, they bombed the town so much that many of the thousand-year-old cathedrals were lost."
That's one of the things that makes me incredibly sad about war. How much have we lost from bombs dropped carelessly? Luckily, the town nearby--Bayeux--was relatively untouched. So if you want to see the Tapestry of Bayeux and the monasteries that William the Conqueror built for himself and for his wife Mathilde--all so he could get the pope's permission to marry Mathilde, who was his cousin--go to Bayeux.
When we drove up to the Memorial of Caen Museum, this is what we saw:
Wait, what?
Nope, I wasn't hallucinating. In honor of the 70th anniversary of WWII ending--Victory Day is May 8th--they had this statue built in front of the building. Which seemed odd to me--it is a very American image. Then again, we are footing a lot of the funding for the museum, so...
Yeah. That thing is gigantic. Look at the flagpoles. Look at the people! Perspective is everything.
The flags flying here are those of the Allied nations. When Lena told us this, I was confused. Afraid to look stupid but dying to know, I asked, "So why is there a German flag?" She laughed. That flag on the end to the left isn't a German flag: it's the Dutch flag. Oops. The colors are simply reversed on the Dutch flag. At least I didn't confuse it for the Japanese flag or anything.
Above, it looks like a ticket booth, right? Nope. It's actually a long display case. Each Allied nation sent a stone to symbolically contribute to the construction of the Memorial Museum. (There's actually a similar thing inside the Washington Monument. A stone from each of the 50 states is on the inside.)
The inside of the museum was so spacious. Honestly, with the plane, I felt like I was in the Air and Space Museum. It was very organized and relatively quiet, even with school groups coming in and out. Lena gave us lots of free time in the museum, but one important thing we did together was do the walk-through tour of "The World Before 1945" exhibit.
Because even with a completely separate wing dedicated just to D-Day, the museum still has other interesting exhibits like "The World After 1945," which details the Cold War and therefore Korea and Vietnam.
The museum is a bit older than I thought. The story behind its construction is fascinating. (But even if it wasn't, I'd share it with you anyway.) Jean-Marie Girault--the second name on the plaque--was mayor of Caen during this time. He personally oversaw the conception and planning of the museum. Why was he so invested? Because when D-Day happened, he was a little boy staring out the window and watching Allied planes dropping bombs all over his city. He saw it. I can't even imagine that. It clearly affected him, and his experience led him to spearhead this project.
Of course, Mitterand--the president of France at the time--was all for it, and Great Britain, Canada, and America all seemed to contribute to the museum--America most of all. I'm not really surprised. We basically gave money to the Allies for the first part of WWII, and afterward, we rebuilt Europe with our money. So yeah. Doesn't seem like America has trouble footing the bill for stuff related to WWII.
Yes, one of the other exhibits of the museum is the actual bunker of German Nazi General Richter. That's why this museum is placed in a rather odd location, if you really think about it. But Richter wasn't going to have his bunker anywhere near the beaches with all the messy fighting and such, so that's why the museum is so far back from the shore as well--it's basically on top of the bunker.
Bird's eye view.
Before I forget: the beaches. America, Great Britain, and Canada were the nations who landed on Normandy. Each nation was assigned a beach (or two). America's beaches are Utah and Omaha--we walked along Omaha later that day. Gold and Sword Beaches belonged to the British, and the Canadians covered Juno Beach. So there you go.
I'm going all out for my museum explanations, so get ready.
"The Fallacy of Peace."
1918
The End of the Great War
10 Million Dead
21 Million Wounded and Lost
You could probably read that, but it's at a weird angle, so I wanted to make it clear. WWI was devastating. When everyone met at Versailles to sign the treaty, they made it clear that they would do anything to avoid another World War.
Of course, when you're bitter and seeking revenge...
In case you were asleep for this lesson in high school APUSH class, I'll summarize: France and Great Britain demanded huge reparation payments from Germany. More than Germany could pay--more than anyone could pay. It was about money, I suppose, but really, it was for the humiliation. In addition to the reparations, Germany was forbidden from raising an army. No more military.
So Germany is effectively neutered and very much in debt. Maybe it made France and Great Britain feel better, but it seems very obvious that the Germans were bound to get really furious at some point with these conditions.
BONUS: Some members of my group. To the far left, supported by a cane, is Fred. Joey is wearing the earphones and standing slightly further back than Fred. Lena is on the right.
I blew up the map because it's super important. All the maps are really important, actually. They're fascinating. In a way, the maps alone can tell you what's happening. In case you're wondering, this map above is of Europe before WWI.
And here are all the big wigs at Versailles--sitting in the Hall of Mirrors! (They were lucky they didn't have to deal with selfie sticks.) If you look closely, the man holding what kind of looks like a newspaper is President Woodrow Wilson. He looks very stern, which could be attributed to the circumstances in this painting, but when you see this regular portrait...
...it becomes pretty obvious that what my American Politics Professor Hayes said is true: only an academic president would look this miserable all the time.
Moving on.
This map is really telling as well. The main point Lena stressed was that if you look at Germany and Poland, you can see that Germany is split into two, with Poland cutting across it. Germany was really stewing over this.
The exhibit then jumps not to Germany, but to Italy. Mussolini really is the beginning of all of this. He understood that in order to regain Italy from the royal family, he'd have to assemble an army. So he marched in with his Black Shirts, and yeah, he took control. He constantly stressed how Italy used to be great during, you know, the Renaissance, so he wanted things to return to those times. However, this was more for power than for promoting art or whatever. He had the language changed to become less polite and more aggressive--all with a simple greeting. He made it clear that Italians could be great as long as they looked to the past.
Sound familiar?
Younger Adolf Hitler was quite taken with Mussolini's tactics and rhetoric. So he decided to do what Mussolini did. He wasn't nearly as successful when he first tried. But Hitler was rather obstinate. So sadly, this is not the end of him here.
Yep, there were other countries during this time going through major change! Here we see Russia après WWI. The man in the coffin/bed is Vladimir Lenin. The guy covering his eyes and probably crying in the background? Noted asshat Joseph Stalin. But I am pretty sure Stalin didn't feel anything close empathy--let alone grief--ever. He killed his first wife's whole family, and when his son attempted to commit suicide and missed, his only comment was, "He can't even shoot straight!" Oh, and he also declined to trade in POWs in exchange for his own son. TERRIBLE HUMAN BEING.
One thing I especially liked about the setup of this museum were all of the posters. In fact, the posters get more sophisticated as we go on. But yes, they show us that propaganda was really the driving force behind all of these sentiments. And it reminds us how easily these people were--for lack of a better term--"brainwashed."
The American Miracle? Do we really want to puff up the egos of citizens who are already convinced they belong to the best country on earth? Sure!
A major reason for this goes back to the reparations. Because Germany had no money to pay Britain and France with, they asked us for loans. Which we gave, as we were riding high on credit at the time. But when our credit froze up, so did Germany's. Yikes.
So yeah, if you think inflation was bad in 2008, look at this mark. This may look awesome, but when you realize that this could basically only buy you a loaf of bread (still more than Valjean could afford), it's not looking so good anymore.
Lena told us that people would come to the supermarkets with baskets of these practically useless bills, like in the picture above. If you turned around, someone was bound to steal your stuff--but not the money. They'd steal the basket. Because the basket was literally worth more than your pile of money. That's when you know things are really bad.
Seems like an appropriate translation.
By this time, Hitler had gotten his shit together and was basically running the show. Here he's meeting with Kaiser Wilhelm II, which must've been incredibly embarrassing for poor Wilhelm. How would you feel if you were President of the United States--essentially the most powerful job in the country--but you were looking at and shaking hands with someone who everyone knows--including you--is the real most powerful person in the country? That's humiliating.
And while Hitler was certainly crazy to some observers then as he is to observers now, I'd like to remind you that he was perfect for revitalizing Germany. He got their nationalism going strong once again, especially since he basically thumbed his nose at the Allies by raising an army and basically breaking every single condition detailed in the Treaty of Versailles.
The majority of his tactics were smoke in mirror stuff. He showed off what appeared to be dozens of tanks in a parade. Really, he only had four or five tanks--they were constantly circling around the block, making it seem like more and more were just pouring out. Now, Hitler would eventually have dozens--hundreds--of tanks at his disposal, but even while he was building up his forces, he understood that he had to at least put on a tough front. It would make the enemies view him as more than a mere annoyance, and it made the Germans believe he was the miracle worker.
The whole exhibit was circling around this globe in the center of the room. From time to time, the picture projected onto the globe would change. Essentially, each picture reflected the lives of people after WWI in multiple countries. Above is a rural American family listening to the radio.
There were groups of people--unfortunately in the minority--who soon realized that Fascism and Nazism would inevitably lead to war if they weren't stopped immediately. Why didn't anyone listen to these people???
Here is a really powerful painting by Picasso. Entitled Guernica, it is his representation and reaction to the bombing of the city of Guernica in Spain. This bombing was like no other in that it attacked civilians. So what? Civilians have always been in harm's way throughout war; it's going to happen. Except the Germans specifically targeted Guernica because they wanted to bomb civilians, not soldiers. Soldiers were not part of their plan. The bombing of Guernica could be seen by some as the point when WWII began--it seems so to me, at least. Of course, this is one of many interpretations, so don't quote me on it: it's a question without a clear answer, of course. But in Picasso's painting, I see a dawning realization: another war is going to happen, and it's going to be worse.
Quite the change, huh? Germany suddenly looks a lot bigger. That's because it has expanded to the left. Hitler essentially told the Allies, "Look, I'm going to invade the land next to France and Belgium whether you like it or not. Now, you can just give it to me, and we can avoid war. I promise! This is all I want." The Allies, being little chickenshits, totally fell for Hitler's BS and just gave him the land. When they held a meeting about it, no representatives from the land being given away to Hitler were in attendance--in fact, they were not invited. The Allies sacrificed them. Ouch.
And we all know just because we nicely gave Hitler some little chunk of land, he wasn't going to actually go by this ridiculous idea that he wouldn't ask for more.
Once the screaming toddler at the grocery store is given the candy he/she wants, what's to stop him/her from ever not using that method?
Nazi memorabilia.
This side-by-side is the perfect example of how the museum takes showing us the production behind propaganda to the next level. This picture is a press picture of Stalin and the German Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop, taken after the Non-Aggression Pact between the Soviet Union and Germany was signed.
There are three key differences in the pictures. The one on the left appeared in a German newspaper, and the one on the left in a French newspaper.
What are the three differences?
1. Look at Stalin's hand, the hand below the handshake. On the right, you can just barely make out a cigarette. Is it in the photo on the left? Of course not. Hitler took the "healthy mind, healthy body" thing very seriously (which would be comical if it weren't so sad), so there was no way he was going to let a picture of Stalin just holding a cigarette into his newspapers.
2. Look carefully at the heights of the two men in the photo on the right. Stalin is markedly shorter than Ribbentrop. But in the photo on the left, the editors have used clever shadows to give Stalin the appearance of looking taller? This one especially puzzled me. Why would the newspaper want to make Stalin look more powerful, more intimidating? Well, since this picture symbolizes the Non-Aggression Pact, it had to convey the message behind the pact: two allies equal in power coming to a truce. It was important that the Soviet Union and Germany were seen as "equals," hence Stalin's sudden growth spurt on the left.
3. On the right, the door behind the two men is more detailed. Even in black and white, a viewer could guess that the door has gold panels, and look at all the Rococo-style detail. Is that in the picture on the left? Nope. They couldn't show opulence to citizens who were scrounging for food. It was important for the higher-ups to seem like they also suffered the same problems as The Common Man, even though they obviously didn't. (This is clearly still a technique today. How do you think Jimmy Carter, peanut farmer, and Ronald Reagan, former actor, got elected? Those were hardly jobs of even American aristocrats--who totally exist, FYI, just read The Great Gatsby.)
So fascinating! Please humor me and agree. :)
Once again, this picture would be amusing if it weren't sad. These were cards that children could collect in Germany--kind of like baseball cards in America. (Or should I say Pokemon cards now?) Hitler wanted to get to the kids' brains, as they're quite malleable. And how did these children get these cards? Well, they were attached to cigarette packs. The parents buy the cigarette packs, see these "children's cards," and give them to their children. Now the idea behind Hitler Youth is enforced even further, as in, their parents approve of and encourage it.
Sickening.
I know I certainly had the impression that the Hitler Youth was like some sick fraternity with all sorts of terrible hazing, but it really wasn't. It was just like Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts: your friends were in it with you, there were summer trips, you learned cool new activities. It was fun with a huge side of German Nationalism. Of course you'd want to join the German Army after you'd been in the Hitler Youth your entire adolescent life.
It's brilliant, actually. You can't deny it. Rather than drafting these kids, they were volunteering to go--with real enthusiasm! Now that's how you build an army.
This dark corridor we entered signaled the end of the displays of essentially horse and pony shows. You couldn't really call this war: it's preparation. But once prepared, they were ready to strike. And thus France enters a terrible stage in its history.
The Dark Years of France
This section was hard even for me as an American, so I'm sure it must be really hard for the French to take in. I'll explain.
Germany was gobbling up Europe, and Hitler was coming for France. France's heroic WWI general, Philippe Pétain, didn't fight the Nazis. He didn't want to fight the Nazis. So he essentially told the people of France, "Look, Germany is going to win this war, and we don't want to be on the losing side."
WHAT THE HELL???
I'd rather be on a losing side that didn't send people to death for the "crime" of being Jewish or a gypsy or gay or anything deemed "other."
This obviously causes cognitive dissonance in the majority of French citizens. But it's basically their grandfather figure telling them to give up. What chance did they have?
Even though France fell rather cooperatively, the Germans still had a great time extracting every bit of humiliation from them. Pétain was forced to sign the armistice agreement with Germany aboard a train--the same train that the Germans had to sign on at the end of WWI. So embarrassing. That image made me cringe.
The map above shows France split into an Occupied Zone and a "Free" Zone. Let's face it: it was totally NOT a Free Zone in any sense of the word. I see it as extremely demeaning. Like telling a child something because they'll believe it easily and then no hard explanations have to be given. Unfortunately, France is that child in this case.
Poor Great Britain. All alone. No support besides America's cash-and-carry arms sales. Constantly bombarded from above by planes. Only separated from France by a small channel--and the Nazis were just on the other side.
Honestly, this part makes me sick that America didn't join sooner. It's in the interest of humanity for Wilhelm's sake!
I have to stop before I permanently freeze my computer with all these damn pictures. To be continued...
Oh, trust me. I have lots more to say.
BONUS: An Enigma Machine! Given that The Imitation Game recently came out, Alan Turing has become more familiar to more people, but we math majors worship Alan Turing. One of the most popular Math Seminar classes at GW was a class on cryptography--my friend Mariel was particularly gifted at it--and let me tell you I am still wondering why in the blue hell I never signed up for it. But yeah. This machine. So beautiful. And almost flawless. Almost.
P.S. We totally should be calling computers "Turing machines." Why isn't that a thing??? Let's make that a thing!
