LA Part 8

On Friday, June 2, my friend Roger, his son Jaron, a fella named Matt that I knew from Civil War reenacting experiences in Oklahoma, and a guy named Bob who I met for the first time, picked me up at Raymond's farm. They had called me several times on their adventurous road trip from Oklahoma, to explain reasons for their delay. A tire had blown out near Alexandria while they were going 70 mph on the interstate, and almost caused their Suburban to roll. However, they were determined to make it to New Orleans for a World War 2 reenacting event, continued on and arrived at Raymond's farm Friday afternoon --dressed in uniform. They quickly got me outfitted with my Ranger's uniform, and we drove the rest of the way to New Orleans.

Roger had registered me for the event as a combat photographer and brought a 1940's vintage camera for me to use. It took quite awhile for me to get used to the camera, in fact I never really did. I've been spoiled with all the technology --digital photography, auto-focus, auto-exposure, all of it. With this vintage camera, you never really see what you're going to get. I had to focus with an estimate of how many feet away my subject was from me, determine how much available light I had, cock the shutter, shoot, and hope for the best. All this, combined with trying to avoid getting shot by German MG-42 machine gun fire, made getting good pictures very difficult.

I was faced with the dillema of a World War 2 combat photographer in the year 2000. I wanted some good digital photos of the event, but I wanted to maintain an accurate impression of a World War 2 combat photographer as well. So, I stashed my digital camera in a gas mask bag and tried to casually use it when I had appropriate moments. When I later saw my black and white prints from the 1940's camera (you could tell what was actually happening in a few of them), I was very glad that I have the digital photos to use on this page.

The reason for the World War 2 reenactment this particular weekend was to celebrate the opening of the National D-Day Museum in New Orleans. The museum was built in New Orleans because it is where the Higgins Industries Plant churned out 12,800 boats that made the amphibious landings during World War 2 (both in Europe and the Pacific) possible. My only knowledge of the Higgins boat came from watching the opening scenes of "Saving Private Ryan." I had flashbacks to that movie all day long. I didn't get sick on the boat though. As a photographer, I was ordered to be in the back of the boat so I could take pictures of the action as we ran out onto the beach.

We were portraying Company C of the 2nd Rangers Battalion --some of the first soldiers to land on Omaha Beach, 6 June, 1944 --D-Day. Our beaches in New Orleans were sand volleyball courts in City Park, but they did have a few hedgehogs (the welded iron structures in the picture to the right that were made to tear holes in the bottom of Higgins boats) and rolled barbed wire we had to cut through. Our boat was an inexpensive mock-up made out of wood, but we came running off of it and onto the beach like the real thing. The guns were the authentic, although loaded with blanks, and there were pyrotechnics set up in the sand for explosions on the beach instead of actual mortar rounds.

I knew that I wasn't going to get to "take a hit" at this reenactment. Right before we made the landing, an officer came by handing out small slips of paper determining our fate. It was kind of sad in a way, because I had such a good experience when I was shot at Fort Gibson, Oklahoma in a Civil War reenactment last year. Faking a violent death in the sand with a vintage camera probably wouldn't have been such a good idea anyway.

As we ran off the boat into explosions of smoke and machine gun blasts, I quickly learned how difficult my duty as combat photographer was going to be. Thoughts of focus, aperture, available light, and shutter speed were instantly gone. I took pictures, but running on the sand and staying out of the way of all the other guys running with machine guns firing were my main concerns. I found a spot behind a hedgehog and began to take a few shots, but soon after, the wire cutters had made it through the barbed wire and it was time to move again. I can't imagine what it would be like with real bullets and mortar rounds, and I have a healthy respect for anyone who has been through it.

There were an estimated 5,000 to 10,000 World War 2 veterans in New Orleans this weekend. A man named William stopped by our camp and shared some of his experiences with us. William was a 2nd Ranger and landed on the beach of Omaha back on June 6th, 1944.

(The band on my friend Matt's arm is called a gas brassard. It turns color when exposed to poisonous gas and lets you know it is time to put on your gas mask. The Germans never used any gas during the invasions of Normandy. Most of the guys stopped carrying their mask and brassard a few weeks after D-Day.)

I had been in touch via email with a friend of my brother's who lives in New Orleans. Her name is Michelle, and she came out to the reenactment at City Park to meet me. Michelle also helped me return to civilian life on Saturday night with a tour of the French Quarter, Bourbon Street, and Jackson Square.

New Orleans definitely has a wild side. I used to think that people in New Orleans just got drunk and exposed themselves on special occasions like Mardi Gras or New Year's Eve. I was amazed and a bit disturbed to find it happening on Saturday June 3. I was also suprised to find so many silver people living in New Orleans. I probably saw more than ten silver folks while I was there --and even one nice, elderly, gold lady.

My friends in the picture above have a passion for World War 2 history, and talking with William made Saturday very special for them. Jaron said to me after William had left, "Man, that's what its all about." It made me think about what was happening here. The guys that were nineteen years old on D-Day are now seventy-five, and like Tom Hanks says on a World War 2 Memorial commercial, our World War 2 veterans are dying at a rate of approximately 1,200 a day. So, when a seventeen year old guy like Jaron is studying, learning, practicing, and reenacting what happened on D-Day, he is doing is exactly what "living history" is supposed to accomplish --keeping the history alive.

The busy day of World War 2 reenacting ended with this tank assault on a farm house which the German's had occupied. Because it was the last reenactment of the day, most of the reenactors seemed determined to use the rest of their blank rounds they had brought for the weekend. The battle was most definitely something to behold. I sat out on this one and just took pictures.

On Tuesday, June 6, we gathered at the Superdome, together with reenactors, members of the U.S. military, and hundreds of World War 2 veterans, for what promoters called, "the largest military parade since World War 2. I would have never in a million years thought that I would be walking in the largest military parade since World War 2, but there I was. It was most likely one of those things that happens once in a lifetime.

The streets of New Orleans were filled with people who came out to say, "Thank you for our freedom" to these World War 2 veterans. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and sent chills up my spine. Our reenacting unit escorted a truck full of veterans who served in the 29th Infantry Division. We probably walked about two miles before reaching the end of the parade, but I would have liked to walk about ten more. It was such an incredible experience. --one of many on this trip that I will never forget.