June 6, 1944 汉译

Sixty years ago today, the free world held its breath. In America, daily life paused almost completely, subdued by the news that the invasion of Europe -- D-Day -- had begun. From the 21st century, we try to imagine the scale of what went forward in that gray dawn after years of preparation -- the ships and men and matériel, the reserves of willpower and determination. What we sometimes forget to imagine is the almost prayerful nature of the day, the profound investment of hope and fear it entailed. It was a day in America and in Europe when civilians as surely as soldiers felt the whole of their lives concentrated on the outcome of a few hours. There has not been another time like it, when we knew that history was about to turn before our eyes.<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

In a way, D-Day sums up for us the whole of World War II. It was the frontal clash of two ideas, a collision between the possibility of human freedom and its nullification. Even now, we are still learning what to make of it, still trying to know whether we are dwarfed by the scale of such an effort or whether what happened that day still enlarges us. It certainly enlarges the veterans of Normandy and their friends who died in every zone of that war.

It's tempting to politicize the memory of a day so full of personal and national honor, too easy to allude to the wars of our times as if they naturally mirrored World War II. The iconic starkness of the forces that met on the beaches of Normandy makes that temptation all the greater. But beyond the resemblance of young soldiers dying in wars 60 years apart, there is no analogy, and that is something we must remember today as well. D-Day was the result of broad international accord. By D-Day, Europe had been at war -- total war -- for nearly five years, at profound cost to its civilian population. American civilians, in turn, had willingly made enormous material sacrifices to sustain the war effort. There was no pretense that ordinary life would go on uninterrupted and no assumption that America could go it alone.

We may find the heroics of D-Day stirring in the extreme. We may struggle to imagine the special hell of those beaches, the almost despairing lurch of the landing craft as they motored toward France. Those were brave times. But it was a bravery of shared sacrifice, a willingness to rise to an occasion that everyone prayed would never need to come again. This is a day to respect the memory of 60 years ago and, perhaps, to wonder what we might rise to if only we asked it of ourselves.