This evening, I walked along the beach here, barefoot in the warm Florida sand. Despite the scarlet sun plunging into the Gulf, I was feeling sorry for myself. For my injured hand.

It cheered me, though, to see young groups of friends and families; tan and happy, gazing into the Gulf like me - or running and splashing into the tide.

Blonde hair, bikinis, tattoos. Ah, Florida beach-goers.

I eventually sat down in the sand and glanced at my phone. June 5th. And tomorrow is the 6th.

A powerful date, June 6th. On my wall is a framed purple heart with that date, with the name August William Diedesch. My father's "Uncle Bill." On June 6, 1944 - 71 years ago - Bill was on Omaha beach.

Bill Diedesch was barely 21 years old in this photo, taken shortly before he enlisted in the Army Reserves. You can't help but notice his sleight frame and his obvious youth. He belonged carrying a cooler on a Florida beach - not an M1 Garand in France.

Uncle Bill was among the historic group of 1400 soldiers to arrive in the first assault wave on Omaha Beach - the most deadly and dangerous of the Normandy beaches.

I wondered, as I always do, what Bill saw through his eyes - and felt in his heart - as his Higgins boat was tossed about in the cold, high waves heading toward the empty beach. Facing the sum of all fears, perhaps he thought about God. Or his mother.

In those final moments, I hope Bill had that same determined look on his face that he did in the picture here. As his company sailed toward their doom, they could surely begin seeing the destruction wrought by the 50-caliber German guns on the other boats. Through that squint, it must have been evident that many - if not all of them - were about to sacrifice their lives - and their future.

In my mind, uncle Bill's visage does not change.

As his landing craft plowed the waves, it heralded the bravery and courage of a nation intent upon liberation and freedom. Of the sacrifices willing to be made. The determination of a generation.

And yes, it's been said many times - but it's still true. The bravery and sacrifice of those skinny kids in the cold waters of France - and their fellow soldiers, did change the future. Perhaps, even, they made our futures possible. The ones in which students run in the surf in swim suits and not army boots.

Sadly, many of those who fought and died should have been sitting in classrooms or riding their bicycles. Or laughing on the beach with their girlfriend.

And thinking of my father's uncle as I sat on the sand, my problems seemed kind of small.

Of the 1400 soldiers that fought in the first wave of troops on Omaha beach, less than 400 would survive. Uncle Bill didn't, but his memory does.

It's a memory of this brave, squinting, skinny kid who thought he was signing up for the Army Reserves at the library - but was really signing up to make history.

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Note: Uncle Bill was part of the 116th Division, 29th regiment.

#bravery

Fear, bravery and infamy on a French Beach - June 6, 1944