About the author
Craig is a photojournalist living in Edinburgh with wife Cathy and has served with the Parachute Regiment for over 40 years. He is still a reservist with 4 Para and covers events for the Regiment in addition to his freelance work. He has driven Land Rovers extensively in the military from Series IIIS to Wolfs and currently owns a Td5 90.
forebears. After a delay due to the air-exclusion zone imposed for President Macron the sound of radial engines heralded the arrival of the Daks. More than a dozen of these veteran aircraft appeared over the DZ disgorging their paratroops.
With the images in the can (or at least on the memory card) I headed back. It had been a long day and back at the campsite I shared beers with a Danish group who had brought along a pair of Willys jeeps for the week. In fact, there were Jeeps everywhere, especially down at the bridge, but I also spotted several Land Rovers, mainly from the UK, that had travelled over for the events.
Activities on June 6 were centred around Ranville itself, which was handy, and I photographed the veterans gathered at the church and allied war cemetery for the memorial service. They received a rousing welcome from the villagers and refreshments were provided afterwards at the local Salle de Fete (events hall). It was a wonderful event and retiring to the cafe afterwards for lunch and a welcome beer I noticed a picture on the bar commemorating a Paratrooper of 12 (Yorkshire) Battalion. As a Yorkshire man and a paratrooper, I found it touching and there were similar dedications all over town. These were attached to street lamps and buildings, a sight that was repeated through the towns and villages. It was an impressive display to honour the wartime generation with British and US soldiers pictured alongside members of the French Resistance. Meanwhile, it had been good to see the return of parachuting as I had memorably jumped myself for the 50th anniversary back in 1994.
Meeting up with fellow members from the Regiment I headed down to the bridge to photograph the assembled colour parties and Madam Arlette Gondree was soon encouraged to join in the picture. Only four years old at the time of the invasion she now hosts Generals and Presidents who all come to visit the historic cafe. It had been a memorable day and a few drinks with old friends down at the bridge that evening brought it to a fitting close.
The next day, I drove down to the coast and explored some of the old bunkers, surviving fragments of the vaunted Atlantic Wall. These imposing structures were now given over to graffiti and the odd teenage party but still exuded a hulking menace. Heading on to Courceaulles and Juno Beach where the Canadian 3rd Division landed, it wasn’t hard to imagine the craft forging through the surf in the face of enemy fire to land their troops as I looked out to sea. There was a lone piper on the beach and families and veterans walked the sands and left wreaths, photos and mementoes. It was all a long time ago now, of course, and the veterans grow fewer each year – nevertheless it’s perhaps as well that we still remember the bravery and sacrifice of those young men who liberated Europe 75 years ago and earned us the peace we have all enjoyed since.