Wanderings
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Photos by John Weaver |
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Granpaw, are you still there?” All I said was that I would be in Normandy for a wedding when… silence.
“Etretat,” he finally said, faintly, before disappearing again in thought. It had been more than sixty years since he was in France, but that day on the phone I could tell my Granpaw had been transported back.
It was late summer, 1944. Fresh from the front lines, twenty year old Private First Class Bruce Wiegel arrived in Etretat, a tiny Norman village neighboring the beaches that bore the brunt of the D-Day invasion. He hadn’t come fight, but rather to make peace – peace with the war, peace with the land, and, no doubt, peace with himself.