“God does not show favoritism." ~ Acts
10:34
Few 92-year-old, white-haired men
are seen as celebrities. But Eddie
Stafford was treated like a rock star from the moment he returned to Normandy
with several of his D-Day comrades. They
were some of few remaining survivors from the 1944 invasion that claimed 10,000
soldiers (Allied and Axis) on a single day.
D-Day survivors have been returning back to the sites where
they fought in the war, retracing their steps across the beaches, down country
roads, and across fields where cattle now graze. But this trip was probably the last reunion
because the men are all in their late 80s or 90s, and few are now able to make
the trip.
For Eddie, this pilgrimage would complete a story begun long
ago. The last time he saw France it was
under attack, ravaged by bombs and gunfire. For him the prosperous farms and tidy villages
of Normandy today seemed like a vindication for the sacrifices and hardships
they endured as young men, proof that peace can flourish after the horrors of
war.
On the last evening of their visit, their French guide took
them to a local bar after a long day of touring. The crowd seemed friendly; old friends
catching up, most of them men about the same age as the US vets.
They spoke German.
A heavy silence erupted as the veterans found seats. Anxious eyes glanced around trying to escape
eye contact. Some shifted uncomfortably
in their seats grasping sweaty under the tables. Others shuffled their feet against the
cobbles of the bar floor, nervously tracing the outlines of each brick.
Whispers swirled throughout the small space. Things were about to get interesting.
Ever since the war, American television depicted Germans as
savage, dull-witted and violent. But
Eddie knew that these too were decent hard-working men doing their duty for a
country they honored and loved. He was
no better, no wiser, no smarter; and just as simple to manipulate.
Eddie rose from his chair and hobbled across the room like his
leg had fallen asleep. The shrapnel he’d
received from that December bombing run had never fully healed.
He introduced himself in English and struck up a
conversation, the exact contents of which he’d never reveal. But soon enough, everybody in the room was
talking to each other and sharing stories.
The Germans talked about what it was like to be young and terrified
that the next bomb was going to land on them.
The Americans told them what it was like to be young and frightened as
they flew amid fierce anti-aircraft fire.
For those men, Americans and Germans alike, their war
finally ended over glasses of beer in a French bar, more than seventy years
after the armistice had been signed.
“Now I understand the meaning of our lives, the
loss of comrades so very long ago. So to
you who have answered duties siren call, may God bless you my soldiers, may God
bless you all.” ~ Lewis Millet (An Old Soldier’s Prayer excerpt)
