Layer upon layer of scenes unfold -- stories that fit together as strategies were planned,
maneuvers executed, and alliances formed. Lives are changed because of brilliance, stupidity,
absurdity, and luck. . . . I was experiencing all of it.
Franco experienced "the smell of the grease, the roar of the bomb." Three weeks after D-Day, his Detachment landed at Normandy.
I had my first view of the Daliesque beachhead in full sun. I was aghast. . . . Fear gnawed at our
guts. We wondered what catastrophe had taken place, and into what we were heading.
Life, for Franco, at this time "seemed to divide itself into two worlds -- war and wonder."
My connection was inescapable. . . . As the war progressed, persecution of the Jews moved
from theory to reality in my world. . . .
What Franco saw was that Hitler was real. The Holocaust was real. His "coming of age" in World War II was complete. "Each day," he states, "I can more fully appreciate how fortunate I was to have not only survived the war, but survived intact."
