A few miles south of England, across the channel overlooking a beach called Omaha, is American soil. When you exit your car and step onto the sidewalk under the trees, you have most literally stepped from France onto American soil. These few acres of land were bought and paid for in American tears.

If you are too tough to shed a tear here, maybe you should just move on.

I am overwhelmed as I step onto the green. I cannot stop my tears even now as I write this and think back on it. A sea of white crosses, thousands as far as the eye can see. "Dress, Right, Dress" in perfect order, perfect spacing. It is the most profound statement of the cost of Freedom I have ever seen.

1,800 hours - Taps is beginning to play. I snap to attention, remove my hat to place over my heart, and About Face - to face the colors being lowered by two old veterans. At this moment I am so very proud to be an American, but even more proud to be in my country's military - proud that I can call these men who lie around me, my brothers.

People are leaving now. The cemetery is closing and it's starting to rain. I turn to go but I cannot leave. I turn again to the stone garden. It pulls me into its midst. In tears I pray for these brave souls. I pray also that when it is my turn, I will have the strength and fortitude of these men and that I will honor them, my name, my comrades and my country, as they did.

Staff Sgt. Jason W. Honeycutt
A Company 1/21 (Infantry)