Who died in that sand?
May 11th, 2018
Today, I walked along the D Day beaches, the cliffs of Pointe-de-Hoc, and the rows of the American Cemetery in Normandy. On June 6, 1944, 57,500 American soldiers descended on the shores of Utah and Omaha beaches. 197 died taking Utah beach. 500 attempted to climb the cliff of Pointe-de-Hoc to take the German bunkers at the top. They were either picked off by Germans shooting from atop the cliff, or they fell as their arms gave out. Only 365 survived and were able to take the German stronghold at the top.
34,250 men stormed Omaha beach. 2500 died. Some while still on their boats, some drowning from the weight of their equipment in the ocean waves, some picked off before reaching land. Some were wounded upon reaching the shore, and slowly drowned as the tide rolled in.

There is sand in my shoe from walking the beach. As I look out at what seems like any other beach — children playing in the water, dogs playing fetch, tourists taking photos — my heart keeps bringing my mind back to the sand between my toes.
Who died in that sand?
Whose son, brother, father, husband, friend….Who died in that sand? What was his name?
Was his family told?
Did they ever find out? Or was he one of many who rests in the cemetery under a marble cross that reads “Here rests in honored glory a comrade in arms, known but to God.”
Was he alone?
Did he suffer?
Who died in that sand?
I’m haunted by the words of Staff Sergeant Walter Ehlers, who stormed Omaha side by side with his brother. His brother never made it to land. When asked about it, he said “I would have rather come home with no arms than without my brother.”
I so wish that the men and women in our world today, capable of causing another Great War, could walk along this sand. I wish they could read of the Private who marked his third wedding anniversary that morning on their boat, who sang a celebratory song with his comrades, who promised his wife he’d come home, who died in the water. I wish they could walk along the rows in the cemetery, and read the names of the 9000 men that lay there. Most of them were not yet my age.
I wish for our leaders not just to remember this battle — this sacrifice — but to honor it with their words and actions and promote peace, unity, and freedom.
This should not happen again.
It cannot happen again.