I spent the week preceding the D-Day in France and dragged Mrs CS along the Normandy beaches - oh lucky girl! However her initial disinterest changed as the day progressed and we moved from Grandcamp-Maissey to Omaha Beach, and the American cemetary that overlooks it. Until then she had not really considered the sheer numbers and could not envisage what the numbers really represented. When she saw 10,000 crosses (and Stars of David) she went very quiet as the enormity of the losses and sacrifice sank in. We travelled along the coast towards Arramanche past the British and Canadian beaches and finished at Pegasus Bridge, and the excellent museum there. Although she did not have much interest in the military exploits she did get wrapped up in the original letters that are on display (next of kin/we regret to announce etc) and had to take herself off to compose herself (allowing Chalkstripe to gaze at the horizon and to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat!).
I was disappointed, but sadly not surprised, that she had been taught so little about the events of the day (she is only a few years yonger than me - how education standards have changed).
Mere words cannot adequately express the awe and respect that I feel for those that went through those terrible days - we should never allow them, or their fallen comrades to be forgotten.