I didn't want to put this with the other D-Day thread as I thought a moment of silence was warrented and I wanted this to be a bit more free flowing. I've had the opportunity to speak with several veterans that were part of the force that hit the beaches. My first encounter with one of these men was when I was about 11 or 12 years old. He was a neighbor of ours. I'd cut his grass and he'd pay me 5 bucks and tell me stories of the depression and the war over a glass of lemonaid. Even at such a young age I was struck by this old man admitting that he was terrified, often getting tears in his eyes and then continuing his story with a laugh if he remembered something that struck him as funny. Being so young I had a certain view of what it took to go to war. You had to hate your enemy, you had to be fearless, you had to walk across the beach with guns blazing and a glint in your eye. I learned a great deal from this man and others like him. He introduced me to one of his best friends...a german he had fought against in France who had moved to this country in the 50s. They didn't know each other then but stumbled across one another here in the states in one of those syncronicity filled moments...so much for hating your enemy. His admission that he was terrified most of his time in europe showed me it was O.K. to be afraid, just not to quit. As for guns blazing across the beach, his statement that if he had gotten any lower to the sand as he crawled across the beach he'd have been underground finally made me realize that maybe war wasn't what I saw in movies. We're losing this generation of warriors now. More everyday. If you ever get to Bedford, Virginia stop in a see the national D-Day memorial. Thank you, Mr. Z, for your time on the beach, time in the hedgerows of France and for your time with a 12 year old boy who needed to learn more than he realized he didn't know. :asian: