Colors of Wars Not Only Black and White

Preface

Born in 1962, I am the son of my mother’s and father’s second marriages. (They were each previously married before marrying each other.) Even though my mother’s family was very much divided, both religiously and politically, I was fortunate enough to live close to both sides, and, therefore, could enjoy everyone individually. When I turned eight, I had the opportunity to spend time with Grampa (Albert), and when I turned twelve, I was able to spend a few weeks at a time with him during the summers. These periods were the beginning of my interest in World War I battlefields and the sightseeing trips we made to visit them..

            For Grandpa, the only war was the Great War. He had a cousin who farmed near Verdun, and when we visited him, we began reenacting the Marne and Meuse Argonne Battles. Later, with other companions, we spent time on Somme and Flanders Battlefields. That was an invaluable learning experience for me.

            My grandmother (Alevtina) was a Russian survivor of the Bolshevik Revolution who immigrated to France during the Great War. She lived through WW II and the German Occupation and told me fabulous stories of her life. Interestingly, the same incidents related by her and then by my grandfather made the same anecdotes seem like different events.

            My grandparents separated over religious differences a few years before they died. When Grandpa found out that Grandma had been born a Jew, he was shocked. What he had been upset about was not that she was Jewish but that she had lied to him. He then understood why Grandma never talked about it to neighbors or friends, but her lying to him was inexcusable in his eyes. I personally believe he never would have accepted her Jewishness, even if she had told him in the beginning. He was a very nice but a very stubborn and narrow-minded man. I do remember, however, that Grandpa always referred to Grandma with respect.

            Having two uncles who had served in the war, Stan joining an SS Division and Roger joining a U.S. Battalion, made my education very interesting. Added to that is the fact that my mother worked for the British War Grave Commission at the Battle of Normandy. I was steeped in stories of the World Wars.

            My mother raised horses with her first son, my oldest brother. Then she married my dad who was living in Paris. He was actually from Peru and had a Spanish father and a Peruvian mother. When he moved to Normandy to work as a physiotherapist, he met my mum. He also had a son, my eldest half-brother.

            My own army experience led me to be under U.S. command. Having many officers who were World War II and Korean Veterans was the essence of my knowledge of World War II. Many of these men were my guides when I had the great honor to drive them around Europe.

            After that stint in the army when I heard so many stories of the Second World War, I began guiding people on tours of the battlefields and other places of interest concerning that war. I was licensed in 2000 as an official guide and lecturer and have had the opportunity to meet hundreds of veterans. The stories I heard from my family and from the army officers I chauffeured are the foundation of this book.  I have supplemented the stories with facts I garnered over twenty years ago when I began conducting the tours and giving lectures. The numbers I have used do not necessarily come from official sources but from a large number of essays, historical television shows, and oral testimony from veterans I have met as I guided them in and around Normandy.

            It is a compilation of a thirty-plus year interest in and fascination with military history. The stories I use serve to illustrate the facts, thus allowing the reader to empathize with the reality of war on individual soldiers and civilians. Back then I never thought of writing a book, but this story is too interesting and too enlightening not to tell.