My
father often described waking at dawn on D-Day to see the sky black
with airplanes from horizon to horizon. All were flying south
towards the English Channel and France. Dad was stationed at a
small airfield in Kingston Bagpuize in England near Abingdon
and Oxford. Everyone – soldiers and civilians – knew the
invasion was imminent, but few knew the timetable or the
weather-related delays. Information was particularly scarce at
Kingston Bagpuize; the airmen and planes were not part of the early morning action. Instead, they waited for news and sat with mixed feelings
created by their safety in the docile English countryside 150 miles
from the war's great battle.
I grew up knowing the end of the story.
The United States prevailed against Germany in World War II just as
we had beaten them before. I never imagined that people of my
parents' generation had contemplated defeat or that the invasion
might have been a history-making disaster. My father and I saw “The
Longest Day” soon after it came out. I was eight. The movie fit a
child's automatic patriotism; good guys prevail over bad guys.
As an adult, learning to cope with big
uncertainties, I finally understood at least part of my father's
fears on that day. Just before noon a pilot friend of his pointed to
a small plane parked near the main runway, “I'm authorized to fly
it. Why don't we head over the channel and see what's happening?” Information. Are we winning or losing?
What's really happening? Dad, though, had great instincts for
understanding fear and confusion. Neither he nor his friend knew the
passwords and codes required to enter the airspace. Soldiers in
battle would shoot at anything. The small plane would likely be
brought down by friendly fire. They just had to wait.
It was early evening when my father
realized that all was well. The airmen at Kingston Bagpuize finally
got their D-Day orders. Marc watched enlisted men loading crates of
Coca-Cola into the big planes that took off and flew south. Not
ammunition or medical supplies or soldiers suited up for battle.
Coca-Cola. The Army could give priority to air lifting a small
luxury to the battle area. Only one explanation fit.
