Memorial Day Observance

When we lived in Germany, we took a road trip to Paris. It was Memorial Day weekend. What surprised us was how disconnected we felt from the “holiday” because the Europeans do not celebrate the day. And why would they? It’s an American holiday. We were given the last Monday in May off because my husband worked for an American company in Germany. Since the company did work for the military, they observed the holiday as well.

While in Paris, on that Memorial Day Sunday, we visited the Arc de Triomphe. A three-to-four-lane road circles the Arc so to get to it, you have to go underground and walk through a lengthy tunnel. I’ve seen the Arc on television many times but what I didn’t realize is that there is not only an arc front to back but there are arcs on either side. I was blown away by that but was disappointed because the Arc had limited hours that day.

But this post isn’t about the Arc, it’s about what happened while we were there.

I wanted a photo of the side of the Arc, so I walked over to the edge of the circle and took some photos. I noticed a man with a VFW hat locking his car door to the left of me. I walked over to him and thanked him for his service (something I always do whenever I see a person in uniform.) Because I don’t speak French, I asked him if he knew why the Arc was closing. He said there was a Memorial Day procession at noon and that we should stay for it. My watch said it was barely 11:30.

I had no idea the French honor the U.S. Memorial Day! Why hasn’t the media ever talked about that? Since it was a Sunday and not Monday—the day the U.S. celebrates Memorial Day—I didn’t make the connection between Memorial Day and the gentleman with the VFW hat.

   My husband, Ted, sat on a ledge and I told him why the Arc would be closed. He wanted to stay for the event. I joined him for a few minutes to cool off because the temperature soared that day.

The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was in the front, and it was cordoned off, but we were second in line.

We had no idea how this event would play out. The VFW man told me a gentleman (from a long-term care facility) who had survived storming the beaches at Normandy would be there. This was history coming alive.

The French Police came and told us we had to move behind a set of metal barricades. My husband and I turned and moved quickly to get a ring-side spot that allowed the best view. The Star Spangled Banner faintly played and I wondered who played it. French soldiers marched to the front of the tomb and there was a French military band who came around the side and stood opposite the French soldiers. They had been playing our national anthem!

As we stood there, I turned to see a tall young man with a huge camera. I remarked it was one big lens. He turned and smiled and started a conversation. He and his girlfriend were German. As we talked, he wanted to know what was going on and we gave him an explanation.

I hesitated because I didn’t want to offend him, but I wanted his opinion on WWII. I think he understood what I meant. He said that it was sad that it happened. He said he didn’t know what he would have done if he had lived in that era and that he was glad he was living now and not then. His response disappointed me, but I wasn’t surprised by it. Five minutes before the event, he and his girlfriend left. That surprised me.

The Air Force honor guard marched to their spot. Then came the flags. First the U.S. and then the French, followed by various military personnel from each.

As the soldiers took their places, I was so overcome by emotion I began to cry. Never in my life had a Memorial Day event affected me in such a way. Was it because of the enormity of the war? Or was it because we were on foreign soil? I don’t know, but I remember the pride I felt that America helped liberate the French from the Nazis.

As the band played the Star-Spangled Banner, my husband saluted, and I began to sing loud and proud. I heard a woman’s voice behind me singing loudly as well, and then other voices joined in. There were more Americans in the crowd than I expected.

The French then played their anthem. The French soldiers and then the Americans placed wreaths on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

I’m so glad we chose to go to the Arc first. Otherwise, we would have missed out on the solemn occasion and the once-in-a-lifetime experience.