Normandy

The invasion of Normandy was 70 years ago. A round number is not normally enough on its own for any anniversary to matter, really. Not that it stops anyone who has an interest in reporting on it.

This year, some survivors of that long-ago day are disbanding. And while one might be tempted to say it's too bad, and wonder why they feel the need to do so, well,  this is where those round numbers can be helpful. Those who went ashore on Omaha, Utah, Sword, Gold, and Juno were young men, in some cases as young as 18. Seventy years later, those very youngest are now 88, with comrades 90, 93, older still. When the next round number comes along, it’s unlikely that any of them will still be around. Sure, people live to be a hundred, more these days than usual, but there‘s certainly no guarantee that any one of five men 89 and older will still be here in 2024. Better to hang it up this year than another, or to possibly have a year when nobody will be able to say “I lay me down with a will!”

And so, they are hanging up their banner, in a ceremony at Westminister Cathedral, acknowledging that their time as a group is just about complete. (Not unlike the previously mentioned Lost Generation, whose only living members today are a very few women centenarians. )   

One of the useful results of understanding history better is the ability to recognize what is really near and far. Getting older naturally gives one a better feel for that, of recognizing how long ten years really is. It can be the time between Black Monday and the start of World War II.  When very young, it's a lifetime; later on, it's a blink.