Occasional Holy Man and Luthier Who Offers Stray, Provocative, and Insouciant Thoughts About Religion, Archaeology, Human Foible, Surfing, and Interesting People. Thalassophile. Nemesis of all Celebrities [except for Chuck Norris]. He Lives Vicariously Through Himself. He has a Piece of Paper That Proves He's Laird of Glencoe.
Friday, June 6, 2014
In War, One Often Finds The Dramatic Collision Of All Human Experience Concentrated Into A Moment
This is a marvelous photo. The woman in the middle is Arlette Gondrée. Her house was the first to be liberated on D-Day. She was four. The two fellows wearing the maroon berets were members of the British Army parachute regiment that liberated her house and town. Her father was so happy that he dug up the 98 bottles of champagne that he had hidden in their backyard four years earlier. These were liberally shared with the liberators. Her mother hugged the paratroops with such vigor that her face was smudged with camouflage greasepaint. She didn't wash her face for days.