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At first glance, this image shows Americans burying other Americans in Normandy. However, take a closer look. In all the photos I have seen from the war, I haven’t seen this many intimate scenes jammed into one frame.
See the:
- Tanks rumbling across the French countryside in the background
- Aerial balloons high above the battlefield
- Two soldiers kneeling for a smoke break in the back left next to what appears to be a parachute canopy
- Two other soldiers, one in the act of lighting up a cigarette, return from the temporary mass grave for the next body to be laid next to his comrades
- Three troopers observing the burial detail. one, with his carbine resting on his hip, looks almost at leisure.
- A lone soldier in the back right stands on top of the pile of dirt waits for the next KIA to be brought to the grave so he can cover him. The deceased would have been tagged, noted in the row, and covered so his remains could be individually removed after combat had ended.
- Two officers, perhaps chaplains, observe the burial detail as their soldiers start on the next row. One, his head uncovered and sporting a black wool sweater, stands out like someone who might be on a hunting trip back home rather than in the midst of a war zone
- Enlisted soldiers in the burial detail, presumably this is their job as part of a graves registration unit, dig in three separate rows of earth. One has been completed and is being filled with men and dirt. The second is halfway complete, with men standing in the trench with shovels. And one soldier almost ceremoniously breaks ground on the third as two buddies watch with shovels at the ready. The work ahead of them is laid out in clear white tape and yarn, signaling the many rows to be unearthed before the day’s work is done.
- Lastly, the fallen. Laid out in the grass under tarps and blankets, the dead at first seem grouped in a state of chaos and with little care as the living work next to them in organized details. However, notice how they are all facing with their heads in one direction. No hands, torsos, or faces protrude from under their shrouds. Instead, all you can see are boots pointing to the sky, insinuating that they were all laid on their backs with care and not flung in piles.
This image is both horrifying and beautiful at the same time. You see life, work, and death. Chaos and organization. Rest and toil. Strangers and friends. Detachment and tension.
Such was the life in a graves registration unit.
We hear about what it must have been like to be a stretcher bearer or on a burial party from history books, memoirs, and HBO. However, this is what it really looked like.