There are two “high holidays” in American history, the Fourth of July and D-Day. One marks the emergence of the United States as a sovereign nation The other as leader of the free world. And sadly, the observance of these occasions fades over the years with one exception. Just as there are milestones of age, e.g. 21st birthdays, or wedding vows, silver and gold anniversaries, we gather on the 25th, 50th or 100th anniversary of these national wayposts in the annuls of the American narrative to give them the attention they deserve.
These moments are also times for reflection. Consideration of those famous and those largely unknown who contributed and sacrificed in the pursuit of an ideal or preservation of a way of life. As I watched the ceremonies yesterday from Portsmouth, England where the invasion to liberate Europe was launched and this morning’s events at the American cemetery at Colleville-sur-Mer overlooking Omaha Beach, as always, I was looking for the angle no one was covering. What was that one counter-intuitive thing that was right under our nose but slipped our attention?
Today, I tip my hat to presidential historian Doris Kearns Goodwin who suggested it is easy to celebrate D-Day with the hindsight of the eventual outcome. And while we have vivid images of the invasion itself from newsreels and movies such as “Saving Private Ryan,” there is no visual documentation of June 5, 1944, which may have been more fateful than the invasion itself. That night, Franklin Roosevelt, Winston Churchill, Dwight Eisenhower and the rest of the military planners awaited the impact of their actions unsure whether they would succeed or fail. As Goodwin recalled on MSNBC yesterday morning.
What strikes me is that we are on the eve, the day before that fascinates me. We know now from history that D-Day worked. But all those people, on this day, 75 years ago were living in a sense of dread. Eleanor Roosevelt said she felt she had a sword hanging over her head. Winston Churchill, when he was going to sleep on this night, said to his wife, tomorrow morning 20,000 of our men may be dead. Franklin Roosevelt was so tense that he couldn’t go to sleep…History knows the end but that’s not the moment that really fascinates me.
There it was, the angle I was looking for, not just in 1944, but throughout history. Did Franklin, Adams and Jefferson toss and turn in their beds the night of July 3, 1776. If he had lived, would John F. Kennedy have slept the night before Apollo 11 took off from Cape Canaveral on a mission he had set in motion seven years earlier. Should we be better students, not of history, but of the eve of history?
Which brings me back to the topic du jour, what is the most appropriate way to address Donald Trump’s alleged crimes, abuse of power and violation of his oath of office? Is Nancy Pelosi currently presiding over the eve of history? Does the decision to authorize impeachment proceedings keep her up at night, not knowing whether such actions will result in Trump’s removal from office or his re-election in 2020? Are there lessons from D-Day which could make her decision easier?
Consider the following. Just as many are anxious to rev up the engine of impeachment sooner rather than later, I am sure there were those who felt any delay in the Normandy invasion was to Hitler’s advantage. But the political and military leader wanted to make sure they had the army they NEEDED, not as Dick Cheney suggested in the run-up to the second Iraq War, you go with the army you HAVE. And they picked a day and hour when they believed the weather conditions, though chilly and rain, were best suited for the mission. Perhaps Pelosi is doing the same, waiting until she has the conditions and the army she needs before launching the inquiry. If and when she gives a green light to Judiciary Chairman Gerald Nadler and her caucus, should we, like Doris Kearns Goodwin, be more fascinated by what happened on the eve of Nadler’s gaveling the committee to order to begin impeachment hearings or the hearings themselves?
Two more thoughts related to June 6, 1944. Imagine if cinema depictions of D-Day had ended like the “Sopranos.” Just as Henry Grace, who played Eisenhower in the 1962 epic “The Longest Day,” announces the forces have reached the French shoreline, the screen fades to black. The audience let’s out a collective, “NOOOOOO!” They feel cheated. I too felt cheated, as this week I began reading the Mueller Report. Here are just a few examples.
The Trump Campaign showed interest in WikiLeaks’ releases of hacked materials through the summer and fall of 2016. (four redacted paragraphs including one under the heading “b. Contacts with the Campaign about WikiLeaks”)
Michael Cohen, former executive vice president of the Trump Organization and special counsel to Donald J. Trump, told the (Special Counsel’s) Office that he recalled an incident in which he was in candidate Trump’s office in Trump Tower (redacted). Cohen further told the Office that, after WikiLeaks’ subsequent release of stolen DNC emails in July 2016, candidate Trump said to Cohen something to the effect of, (redacted).
(In reference to the Trump Tower meeting) The Office spoke to every participant except Veselnitskaya and Trump, Jr., the later of whom declined to be voluntarily interviewed by the Office (redacted).
NOOOOOO! Don’t leave us hanging. How did the Campaign show interest in WikiLeaks? What did Trump say to Cohen? What do you mean Junior declined to be interviewed? Was he subpoenaed? Did Rod Rosenstein, Matt Whittaker or William Barr at the Department of Justice prohibit Mueller from issuing a subpoena? Did he issue one and Junior took the Fifth (even though his father proclaimed during the 2016 campaign, “Only guilty people take the Fifth”?
And finally, a word about Trump’s attendance at the commemorative events this morning in France. To his credit, he stayed on script and the speechwriter should be thanked for the tone and content of his remarks. But there is a certain irony that not just Trump, but any Republican president would have this honor. While the GOP claims to be the party of national security, it was Democrats Franklin Roosevelt and Harry Truman who oversaw the successful preparation and conduct of U.S. participation in World War II. And to some extent, I had a similar response watching Richard Nixon welcome back the Apollo 11 astronauts instead of Kennedy or Lyndon Johnson.
Perhaps, on such occasions, history would be better served to have the principals or their decedents participate in the ceremonies. That is why the image of Queen Elizabeth, who volunteered as a mechanic in World War II, was the most compelling figure over the last two days. She did not need a history book or a speechwriter. She was there.
For what it’s worth.
Dr. ESP
I needed to find a place where members of President Kennedy’s secret service detail could meet privately without raising suspicions, a location where they might be seen in the course of regular business. A Google search pointed to the James J. Rowley Center in Laurel, Maryland, a secret service facility where agents can practice defense skills and explore better techniques and strategies for carrying out their mission. Just one problem. Kennedy’s detail could not have been there as the center was not funded until 1969 and did not open until 1972. Chances are the reader would not have known the difference or cared. But I knew it would have been a flaw in the narrative and that was unacceptable.
The new House leadership would be wise to listen to incoming chair of the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee Elijah Cummings.
How many times have we read a book or watched a movie where the moral is, “If you really love something, the best thing you can do is let it go.” The ending of Cast Away immediately comes to mind. In the penultimate scene, Chuck Noland (Tom Hanks) confides in his friend Stan (Nick Searcy) it is time to move on. The film ends on Noland’s encounter with Bettina Peterson (Lari White), the recipient of a long overdue package, and contains the following dialog.