On the recordJune 7, 1994
the English Channel laps against the French shore in endless waves of grey. I would like to speak for a moment about a time within my memory when those same waves were grey with the steel of ships, and far too often red with the blood of brave men. Fifty years ago at this moment, the world awaited history's most fearsome storm. Across the island called England, on parade grounds and airfields, at piers and in countless headquarters, Americans prepared to once again put themselves in harm's way for the defense of liberty. They were our pride, those kids, these men. They came from places called Omaha, and Utah. And they traveled thousands of miles to unfamiliar places with those same familiar names, to offer their lives that others might breathe free. They came not for personal gain nor glory. They came, simply, to remove a fearful shadow which had descended upon Europe, and which threatened to engulf the world. In liberation's armada came every sort of American, diverse in background but united in purpose. Their task was by no means assured. Victory would require the defeat of the most successful armed force then operating, in many cases on its home terrain, operating with short lines of communication and supply. But no foe is so inspiring as unambiguous evil. And no task so rousing as fighting for one's buddies, one's nation, and indeed one's world. American troops bent themselves to that task with relentless precision, inventiveness, and will.…
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