High Schooler’s View Of Normandy

One of the activities of the National World War Two Museum is education.  It might be one of our largest focuses as a museum.  It’s not just battles, implements, armament and tactics.  It’s about remembering the sacrifice so a war with that scope and carnage will never happen again.

Humanity sometimes forgets hard earned lessons.

Our museum president, Dr. Nic Mueller enlightened us over a year ago about the Normandy Academy.  Our first class just went through.  I was lucky enough to be at Cantigny in Wheaton over Easter and ran into JD Kammes.  We had a great conversation, and they helped us out with the Normandy Academy this year.

Rebecca Andruzzi, a student at Latin School of Chicago participated.  Here is an essay about her experience.  I hope you find it enlightening, and I hope you encourage high school age students to apply for the class next year.

Here is what she had to say:

Rebecca Andruzzi

Normandy Academy

I never thought that at 17 years old I would be given the opportunity to take part in the Normandy Academy, a program that would allow myself and 11 other kids to travel to France for two weeks. This new program was created solely for the purpose of keeping the memory of World War II alive by allowing its students to view the war through the eyes of a fallen soldier from their home state. With this objective, we would not just be visiting war memorials, nonchalantly pausing for the necessary photo-op, but instead we would be viewing a statue or visiting a museum with the knowledge of what our soldier had accomplished, and the necessary feats he had to achieve in order to help win the war. For example, while visiting Pegasus Bridge, we would not just view it as “some old bridge,” but rather as an important bridge that the Allies had to capture in order to help win the war. At the end of the trip, we were to write and deliver a eulogy for our fallen soldier by their gravesite at the American cemetery.

I was ecstatic about this once in a lifetime opportunity; I was looking forward to meeting new people, creating lifelong friends, and, of course, acquiring more stamps on my rarely used passport. However, first I had to go to New Orleans, Louisiana to research more about my soldier, Frank J. Nicolei. At the National World War II Museum in New Orleans, I was able to study artifacts from the war, including letters, newspaper clippings, and pictures. I learned about Frank’s division (which was the 508^th Parachute Infantry Division), but could not find anything personal about him. He was neither in the 1930 or 1940 U.S. Census, and if it weren’t for his military records, I would have believed he did not exist at all. I was feeling completely unprepared to write a eulogy for a soldier I did not know, and I began to think that this responsibility to carry on a memory of a soldier unknown to the rest of the world was a task that I would not complete. Still, with my bags packed and Euros in hand, I headed overseas to France, excited to further my studies on WWII and learn more about French culture.

Upon our arrival in France, we met and talked with a French WWII veteran; this was very interesting because I had only met American veterans, but never anyone who had served for a foreign country. His stories were intriguing, but the underlining idea I had walked away with was that the French were very grateful for what the American soldiers had done for them, and they would continue to be thankful. This was proven to be true after I had visited many different towns throughout France, each decorated with countless American flags. Seeing this made me very proud to be an American, and I became even more aware of what the American soldiers had fought for.  I think it was when we were at Juno beach that it really hit home for me. A kid from my group had asked, “Why are there people sunbathing on the sand and playing in the water? Shouldn’t this beach be kept as a historic sanctuary to honor and remember the many soldiers who had died?” To which someone had replied, “this is what the soldiers had fought for—for France to be a free country.” If the beaches were to be kept fenced off and not open for public use, then everything that the Allied forces had fought for would not be honored. I think that this is really when I began to think about what it must have felt like to have your country occupied by an outside intruder, such as France had experienced when the Nazis invaded.

We also visited Omaha beach, where we were able to walk around in the huge craters that marked the places where the Americans had dropped bombs along Hitler’s Atlantic Wall, leaving permanent reminders of WWII. We also were able to explore the countless number of German bunkers still remaining. Walking around in these convoluted underground German shelters scared me, as I could not have imagined having to try and overtake them, as the Allied soldiers had had to do.

Our last day in Caen was reserved for our eulogies. I was nervous, worried, and scared. Everyone else was able to find personal information about his or her soldier, but I was left with Frank’s basic military information—I had thought I would learn more information about him in France, but I hadn’t. However, it wasn’t until I had racked my brain, searching for ways on how to make my eulogy personal, that I realized I did have enough information. For the past week and a half, I had walked along different World War II battle sites. I had not only read about how scary it must have been to jump out of a plane, but had seen the area where the parachutists had to land. These experiences allowed me to make a personal connection with Frank, and I finally understood how to write my eulogy.

The final three days in France were spent in Paris, visiting places such as the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre. As we walked to our gate at the airport on our final day, I realized how truly amazing this trip had been. I had made great friends and had experienced a completely different culture. I am so grateful to have been given this opportunity, and I hope that in the future many other students like me are given the chance to partake in the Normandy Academy as well, because World War Two and the soldiers who fought in it can never be forgotten.

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