Both of my grandfathers served in the military. Neither of them talked much about it - Poppop (Mom's Dad) was a little more open about it, and Grandad (Dad's Dad) only talked about it once - just before I was supposed to study in Europe for a semester. He told me the name of the street he was quartered on while he was stationed in Paris and that I needed to walk the Champs Elysees and see the Arc de Triomphe.
I cried when I stepped off the subway and realized that the street my hostel was on was on Rue de La Chapelle, the same street Grandad stayed on.
I was honored and humbled as I toured Normandy, thankful that both of my grandfathers were injured prior to D-Day because they both were to have been there. (the picture above is one I took at the cemetery at Normandy - France gifted the land to the USA to bury their soldiers and after almost 4 months in Europe, it was good to be "home" as I walked those grounds)
Thank you, Poppop, Grandad, and all who have and do work so hard to keep this country free.
