After our walk along the cliffs above the Normandy Landing Beaches we drove through the countryside in the sun towards Caen. We stopped at a War Cemetery which we saw a sign for, for some reflection.
We happened upon Ryes War Cemetery. Here are buried 630 British, 21 Canadian, 1 Australian, 1 Polish and 326 German Soldiers.
A most tranquil place. It still shocks me to see the young mens’ ages, heartbreaking. It is still hard to imagine that it wasn’t really that long ago. The inscriptions on the headstones are personal and interspersed among them are anonymous – ‘….known unto God’, chilling and so sad. It naturally has a subdued atmosphere, it is a perfect place to reflect.
My own Grandad was part of the Normandy Landings, he survived and then went on to fight in Burma. He died never speaking of the war, only once can I remember him mentioning it to me. I had a German pen pal when I was at school in the 80’s. He just coldly said to me that maybe her Grandfather had fought him in the war and that was that.
My husband’s Grandad is French, he’s still with us and was a little younger during wartime. He’s from Douai in the North of France and was a young teenager through the occupation of France by the Nazis. His parents’ house was bombed (something that was just accepted), he has many, many stories of that time which are just fascinating. He also got up to much mischief during that time too. Once stealing German uniforms and throwing them into a river. Brave or silly – he was reprimanded by his mother and lucky not to have been caught, but he didn’t like the soldiers being in their school. I must get these stories down on paper. It is such a shame that my Grandad and him didn’t get to meet. A regret.
Ryes War Cemetery – Bazenfield
We must never forget.
Suze en France 