June 6, Present Day
The fish market on the quay at Courseulles-sur-Mer was filled with tourists enjoying the warming summer sun as the fresh coastal breeze began to wan and weaken. It would be a beautiful day along the Normandy shore. Visitors from around the world had convened throughout Normandy to celebrate this anniversary of the Allied landings of D-Day, and the publicity surrounding the memorial service for Antoine Bouchard took center stage. Courseulles had never seen such a crowd, dominated by young families with children, an entire generation that rose to honor the hero of The Juno Letters.
The hustle and bustle of the busy seaside morning was broken by the sound of gun fire, multiple rifles in unison, first once, then twice, then a third volley - a stylized, ritual sound, followed by the strain of bagpipes.
Monsieur Racine, the owner of the Hotel de Paris, interrupted his guests in the outside courtyard, asking, “Un moment, s’il vous pl‰it - one moment, please” - and bowed his head. People all over the commune stopped what they were doing in silent reverence.
In the local cemetery, seven soldiers stood at attention, rifles at parade rest, dressed in the uniforms of the Canadian Royal Winnipeg Rifles and First Canadian Scottish Regiment. Two pipers in traditional kilt played a haunting tribute - “Amazing Grace” - a song of honor. A crowd gathered around the fresh earthen mound bedecked with flowers, and the French Tricolor was folded over the simple grave. A magnificently kilted Angus McDonough stood among them with tears in his eyes.
The pipers’ strains ended. M. Racine quietly said, “Merci” to his guests, and they resumed their conversations.
A priest blessed the grave, and the large crowd began to disburse.
Angus McDonough took the arm of his daughter Jenny and they walked happily back towards town for a long-awaited stroll on Juno Beach.
A young girl stayed behind, and placed a small bouquet of flowers on the grave. She wore a gold cross around her neck.
“Voil‡, grandmama! Les fluers sont tres belle! - The flowers are so beautiful!”
AriŽle smiled, watching the girl play in the soft sunlight.
“Yes, they are, child. They certainly are!” She looked up at me and smiled, nodding her head quietly.
The little girl joined her mother and her great grandmother AriŽle, and they quietly walked back toward town hand-in-hand.
The white cross at the head of the grave bore a simple message.
Antoine Bouchard
1898 - June 6, 1944
A Patriot of France
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