waterline. Just after LCI 232 had offloaded its compliment of
soldiers and was heading back out to bring more troops in,
the vessel was hit by an enemy shell and struck a mine. In just
a few minutes LCI 232 sank, with few survivors. Mr. Kelly’s
commanding officer, in a letter to his parents, explained to
them that their son had been liked and respected by all those
aboard—a true example of the best traditions of the Navy.
In preparation for the institute, Abby and I had researched
Mr. Kelly’s life and death, and Abby created a website to
memorialize this brave sailor from Madisonville.
The last stops we made were Omaha Beach and the American
Cemetery. We had all read about and discussed the tremendous
effort required by those who landed on Omaha on June 6,
1944. During our first visit to Omaha was on June 24, we were
reminded that, despite the quiet lapping of the waves that
morning, this was the scene of the invasion’s highest casualty
rates. It took all the elements of leadership to get Americans
off that beach and into the fight: courage, bravery, sacrifice,
skill, and intelligence. As Abby and I walked near the chilly
waters of the English Channel, we couldn’t help but hear
echoes of a day 70 years before. Humbled by the sacrifices
made by all those young men, Abby and others were moved
to show their appreciation by writing “We Remember,” and
the names of each of the men they had researched in Omaha’s
sands of Omaha. It was a very moving moment—in a trip full
of moments.
Our institute’s “Day of Days” came June 25, when we made our
last visit to Omaha. This was an opportunity to demonstrate
our appreciation for those who did not make it home. It began
above Omaha Beach at the 1st Infantry Division Monument. As
we looked down on the sands we’d walked the day before, we
were reminded once again of the awesome task the Americans
undertook, in occupying the contested heights where we now
stood.
The group then split up, with Abby and some others moving
on the American Cemetery. The rest of us walked down to the
beach, then traced the steps of the Americans who secured
the cliffs where the cemetery now sits. That walk up the hill
was tough. We could only imagine what it was like to be wet,
cold, carrying 80 pounds of gear—while being shot at from
Army casualties on Omaha Beach, June 6, 1944. (Photo courtesy of the
National Archives and Records Administration)
and began the process of eulogizing each of the fallen men we
had researched. Remembering these brave men, taken at the
peak of their lives, was a life-changing experience. The words
spoken at each gravesite were moving. By the time we reached
our sailor on the Wall of the Missing, everyone was feeling the
weight of that day. As we made our way to the bus to travel
to Paris, everyone was aware of the i