Crisbecq Battery

 Battery

The Crisbecq Battery, constructed by the Germans near Saint-Marcouf in the north-east of the Cotentin peninsula and jogging distance from where we are staying. The battery formed a part of the German Atlantic Wall coastal fortifications overseen by Rommel who had concluded by 1943 that Germany's Blitzkreig was no longer potent and that a strike on Normandy inevitable. He turned his attention to defense.

The main armament were three Czech 21 cm Kanone 39 canons, two of which were housed in the casemates (pictured). The Battery, with a range of 17–21 miles, could cover the beaches between Saint-Vast-la-Hougue and Point du Hoc, ie, Utah and Omaha Beaches.

Vista from the canon point

The stretch of land between the battery and Utah beach about 3 kilometres. The Germans flooded this region to make it more difficult for the Allies to advance on Normandy, with five pathways traversing the swamps (the first wave para gliders tasked with securing these routes, as well as taking out the bunker canons). Crisbecq offered a perfect location to target D Day ships. Dawn aerial and naval bombings reduced some of the threat.

In the end, Crisbecq was captured in the morning of 12 June without a fight by the 39th Regiment after the 9th US Infantry landed at Utah Beach. They found it deserted.

Le Hebert

The moat around Le Coeur

From Valognes we drive to St-Martin-Le-Hebert to visit Le Coeur, a sixteenth century manoir fortified by a moat and next to an ancient beautiful church (they are a dime a dozen here).  We lunch at Bricquebec followed by a local art fair.

Last night, at a country estate, we join an unusual group of local French land owners and English eccentrics all who have inherited their wealth. The host, a charming French woman named Sophie, married to a multi-billionaire away on a sailing expedition. There is a lot of wine and spirit. I get the sense these gatherings take place regularly.

The highlight, and reason, for the dinner is Annabel, a soprano trained at the Paris Conservatoire, who performs a selection of arias from Shubert to Mozart in preparation for a concert she will give next weekend to raise money for "the hunt" (in this part of France, the tradition of hunting involves deer rather than fox, as in England).

The evening ends by singing happy-birthday David, one of the guests and a retired British banker, who owns farmland in Malawi, South Africa, California (weirdly, grapefruits) and France. He oversees a local choir in which Anabel occasionally sings.

Sonnet: "That was a night."

An Old Man And His Ducks

Valogne market 

Our six villages take turns hosting a daily market and today we visit Valogne to buy Easter provisions. I chat with the friendly man, pictured, who is selling three ducks which, when asked how they should be prepared, illicits the motion of ringing their necks and stripping their feathers. Then, he says, best served au jus.  He speaks no English. We compare notes on France, my favorite country I tell him, and California and he is aware that there is a severe draught on the West Coast.

Sonnet collects four kinds of cheese, a whole cauliflower, potatoes, one large stripped chicken, two types of clams, four different preserves, bread, croissants, a large brioche and a custard tart picked out greedily by the Shakespeares. Followed by a double espresso at a local cafe. How can this not be a great day?

Rush Hour

Fontenay-sur-mer must have 25 people max including a mayor, who has the one fax machine in town which I need to use, knocking on her door [Digression: nobody uses a fax machine so why does my bank, Coutts no less, require faxed instructions? I email a photo of my fax but they need it faxed.  This is the kind of modern-day-stupidity that makes me nuts. Digression end]

Eitan and I go for a 60 minute jog this morning - he is chipper and a good jogging companion. He has yet to put training into his running, which has always come naturally. That probably won't fly in today's competition.

We have oysters. Me: "You know, Madeleine, oysters are still alive when we eat them."
Madeleine spits out her oyster, ptui! "What? Mom, Dad is joking. Tell me he's joking."
Sonnet: "It could be possible."
Me: "That's how you know they are fresh."
Madeleine: "Animals. You are all animals."

Madeleine: "What would you have named me, if not 'Madeleine'?"
Sonnet: "'Hannah' or 'Abigail.'"
Me: "I like 'Abby Orenstein'. Or 'Ava."
Eitan: "What common British name would you least want me to have?"
Me: "You fuck'n wanker."
Eitan: "Seriously."
Me: "It's the most common name in England. Like, come 'ere you fuck'n wanker."
Sonnet: "You were almost an 'Oscar.'"
Me: "Good thing you're mom was on the case."

Tuck Shop

"Girl On The Train"

Eitan brings his monkey suit to France, good on him. He finishes "Girl On The Train" by Paula Hawkins which is about "a girl who's an alcoholic and has a pretty terrible life and she takes the same train twice a day and can look into all the houses she passes. There's this one couple that reminds her of her ex husband. She creates an imaginary story from what she sees of them and what she thinks is a perfect life. One day she finds out that the women has gone missing, and she tries to get to the bottom of who killed her. She kind of goes into their world, meets the husband, sees the house, and finds out about their past lives. And stuff."

We buy oysters from a seaside shop; Madeleine on the water cage: "That would be a nice place to live."

Sonnet: "Eitan you have such big feet."
Me: "You know what they say about big feet, don't you?"
Eitan:
Madeleine: "Dad!"
Me: "Big feet, big hands."

Madeleine: "Oh, yeah, right Dad. Like that was what you were really going to say."

Me: "What did you think I was going to say? Oh, that Eitan has a big willy?"

Eitan: "Hahaha."

Sonnet: "Don't listen to your father."

We have a discussion about school.

Me: "So what do you guys do when you get hungry?"

Madeleine: "We go to the tuck shop."

Me: "What's the tock shop?"

Madeleine: "The tuck shop. It's where we go to get snacks."

Me: "It's where you go to get sex?"

Madeleine: 

Me: "That's what I thought you said. Look, really, my hearing is going."

Sonnet: "It must be the British accent."

(Madeleine rolls her eyes)

Utah Beach

"The VIIth corps will attack Utah beach the D Day at H-Hour and will storm Cherbourg in a minimum of time."

--Field order number one dated May 28th, 1944

We re visit Utah Beach which is always extraordinary to me, what these men accomplished, and sacrificed. 

"Our landings in the Cherbourg-Havre area have failed to gain a satisfactory foothold and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based on the best information available. The troops, the air and the Navy did all that bravery and devotion to duty could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt, it is mine alone."

--Notes for an announcement, written by Eisenhower in advance of the Normandy invasion, in case of its failure, but never delivered.

Poor Dead Bastards

OGEFR. HUB. BRIEDENBACH, 8.8.24 + 11.6.44

We visit the German cemetery in La Cambe with its small parking-lot and no visitors. It is striking to see the U20s, and those gravestones marked after June 6, 1944, when a soldier's death would have been meaningless.

La Cambe was originally the site of a battlefield cemetery, established by the US Army Graves Registration Service during the war, where American and German soldiers, sailors and airmen were buried in two adjacent fields.

After the war ended on the continent and parallelling the work to repair the devastation, work began on exhuming the American remains and transferring them in accordance with the wishes of their families. Beginning in 1945, the Americans transferred two-thirds of their fallen from this site back to the United States while the remainder were reinterred at the American Cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach.

Because of the pace of the war, the German war dead in Normandy were scattered over a wide area, many of them buried in isolated field graves - or small battlefield cemeteries. In the years following the war, the German War Graves Commission (Volksbund Deutsche Kriegsgräberfürsorge) sought to establish six main German cemeteries in the Normandy area.

La Cambe covers over 21,000 German dead. 

(Source: Site, edited)

Self Portrait XXXXIII

Madeleine gives me a fake tattoo on my upper arm (she says, "a skull eating a blue rose while thorns are going through the top of its head."
Eitan:  "God you look like such a douchebag."
Me: "Do you even know what a 'douchebag' is?"
Eitan: "Yeah. Everybody does."
Me: "Is that so?"
Eitan: "It's not like it's a bad word or anything." [Dad's note: Eitan has no idea what a 'douchebag' is]
Me: "Let's keep that one in the house."

We visit a small village to look at antiques and paintings (buying a charming bird bath) then the boulengerie, charcouterie and the fromagerie.

Fonteney Sur Mer

Day 1

We pull into a familiar place following a six hour drive and The Chunnel crossing under the English Channel which, I learn, is the largest such vehicle transport in the world. Go figure. The car (over)loaded up with suitcases, electronics and bikes - missing only Rusty who got shipped off to the kennel, poor guy.

Madeleine suggests a car roof and I immediately connect it with the dog. Mitt Romney would approve.

Eitan: "Crepe."

Me: "Crap?"

Eitan: "Hahahaha!"

I Am

Madeleine breaks it down

Madeleine performs in "I AM", a play at the BAC. It is devised theatre that the kids created themselves, addressing kids related issues like self expression, school pressure, gender issues and racial stereotyping. Madeleine does a piece with a schoolmate on parental rules (looking directly at me, second row). She is fabulous. Afterwards Madeliene joins us in the audience to watch a different troupe perform; these kids older and address 17-18 angst throwing in plenty of sexual innuendo and words like 'blow job' and 'vagina', raising Sonnet's eyebrow like Spock.

Eitan's last football match of the season, against Kingstonian Youth, nets a 9-1 victory for the Lions. Eitan puts in the first goal.

Sonnet '96

Digging around in our attic I shuffle through a stack of ancient photographic prints .. well, to New York ca. 1996, anyway. Here is Sonnet, standing out from the rest of all those Manhattan memories.  I sure did something right.

Monkey Business

Eitan goes to a costume party dressed as a monkey. Never again, I tell him, will he be able to complain about me taking him to school in a cow suit. Gracie lives on.

Since it's Saturday, Sonnet and I up early to take the dog for a walk and connect with Karen and Niki doing the same thing with theirs. We swap dog stories which is kind of like baby stories: what the dogs have eaten, their exercise routines and shitting patterns. It sort of makes me uncomfortable.

Madeleine off to rehearsal and tonight is her first of two performances. I ask, 'are you nervous'? and she shrugs it away. Business as unusual.

Eitan stumbles into the kitchen (in his monkey suit, which he wore to bed) and makes a bacon and sausage sandwich.
Me: "How was the party?"
Eitan: "It was OK."
Me: "Did you have any interesting conversations?"
Eitan:
Me: "Oh, right. Sorry. Did you talk to any girls?"
Eitan: "Yeah."
Me: "Are they interesting to you?"
Eitan: "Sort of. I guess."
Me: "Do you go up to them or do they find you ?"
Eitan: "A bit of both."
Me: "I bet."

Paris Morning

River Seine

Friday post. I'm up, 6AM, to power walk the 7e. The sun is shining and springtime almost here.

The Paris streets hum with activity as the delivery agents service the bakeries and cafes, jamming the narrow lanes, chatting (or arguing) with each other. The dog walkers out and the pets crap wherever they wish as the gutters run with water every day. I head by the National Assembly and La Defense with police noticeably present even at this hour (The American Embassy, on Place de la Concorde, a fortress). At the Musée Rodin, a side gate open and I poke my head in to see 'La Porte de l'Enfer'.

I spend my usual good time with Astorg who is moving towards a fundraising this year. It is pregnant with possibility and judging the launch an important consideration.

Kaleidoscope - Shard

The Shard

Sonnet and I join "Kaleidoscope", the Contemporary Art Society's annual fundraising auction at 1 Billings Gate in a marvellous converted space big enough to host the contemporaries and seat 200 people (our friend Veronique is on the Board). Outside : the Thames and the Shard.

How different a place London has become since I worked in The City and jogged along the riverside through 1950s and 60s concrete. Those ancient post-war relics are gone in a heartbeat to make way for the new and modern, steel and glass.

Kaleidoscope's dress code is "colour in motion" which neither I nor Sonnet consider until the day before so I buy a purple and pink paisley tie from Harvey Nics. For the men, I've done more than most. The women arrive in leopard skin or print, lace leggings and yellow shoes. Pink-dyed mink. Sonnet goes with blue and patterns.

I dine next to Louise Wilson, a British artist nominated for the Turner Price in 1999 for her work in video, film and photography.

Eitan prepares himself in the morning.

Me: "What are you up to today?"

Eitan: "I don't know, usual stuff."

Me: "It's a bit difficult being 14, isn't it?"

Eitan: "I guess."

Me: "Having to talk to adults and not really knowing what to say. Feeling something is expected of you."

Eitan: "Yeah."

Me: "I remember that time. But then you get your own stories."

Eitan:

Me: "And you will have plenty."

Date Night

My gal

I dash home, bike a loop of Richmond Park, make a few phone calls then dart out the door to meet Sonnet at the Tate Britain - date night. Following the exhibition we go to our favorite, The River Cafe which, amazingly, has a table for two available, just for us (our first time at the RC was 1997 which stimulates a certain amount of .. reflection).

The kids have an evening home without activities other than homework. A rare thing. I suggest Eitan use the time to read a book (eye roll) or to bed early (open protest). Madeleine needs no urging on either - she puts herself to bed 8:30PM sharp, no fuss about it. Smart kid, she knows the importance of sleep.

On a dull day in the news (thank goodness) the BBC reports that a giant dangerous newt possibly roamed the earth in the dinosaur era. The story in the newsloop.

Nick Waplington / Alexander McQueen Working Process

Sonnet and I join the opening party for Nick Waplington's photography exhibition at the Tate Modern.

"Nick Waplington/ Alexander McQueen: Working Process is the result of a unique collaboration between artist Nick Waplington (born 1965) and the fashion designer Lee Alexander McQueen (1969-2010). Waplington, best known for his photographic work centred on themes of class, identity and conflict, was invited by McQueen to crate a photo book documenting the making of the designer's 2009 Autumn/ Winter women's ready-to-wear collection from start to finish. McQueen conceived the collection as an iconoclastic retrospective of his career, revisiting patterns and fabrics from his earlier collections.  Titled 'The Horn of Plenty,' the collection was fiercely satirical and deliberately provocative."
--Entrance placard

Ten Hut

Dog torture

Madeleine and I go to the Isabella Plantation, about one month before the rhododendrons bloom. Still, it is a peaceful area for a walk only disturbed by Rusty chasing ducks. Madeleine and I talk about school and sports, homework, goals. She notes that "everybody knows Eitan" even at her school. Well, of course it feels this way as the younger child. And besides, I tell her, she is known for her running and theatre; her teachers adore her and she is DDG (which gets an eye roll). All true.

Sonnet and I have drinks with a few Hampton School parents at The Plough. The chit chat is around the ESFA semi final defeat as well as various school gossips. I can't keep track of which parent owns whom but the mums sure know. Its disconcerting when someone I don't recognise is telling me how Eitan did on his Chemistry exam today. Thank God for Sonnet, who is on top of this like a moma bear.

Marcus reports that he managed the car seat test and he and Adrienne now home with Willa Sofia. As I tell him, one day down and 18 years to go.

DDG=Drop Dead Gorgeous

Hello Willa Sofia

New parents

Marcus and Adrienne come home with a baby and Madeleine and Eitan get a cousin (Madeleine: "OMG she's beautiful!!). There is lots of excitement and love in our lives on the addition of Willa Sofia, a beautiful adopted child. Let the sleep deprivation experiment begin.

Madeleine's play, "I Am", recently cancelled due to the building burning down, but the show must go on. The troupe have doubled down on rehearsals having found an alternative location to practice, practice, practice! Madeleine's spirits soar to be back on stage. Today she talks to her form tutor and Head of Year to discuss raising money for the BAC.

ESFA Semi Final

Friday night boogie.

Eitan's Hampton U14 A squad plays Banstead School, Essex, in the Semi Final of the English Schools FA cup. To reach the final four, the boys have won eight in a row and qualified from a pool of 700 teams. Hampton School has never gotten so far in any age bracket.

The boys are nervous but not as much as the parents, as is usually the case. I fly in from Geneva and head for the pitch with Richard and Jack, who has cut school to watch. Sonnet joins and we bite our nails anxiously as Hampton breaks from the huddle, "Go Hampton!"

At half-time its 1-1 on two good goals but in the second half Banstead pulls ahead on a cracker - 25 meter free kick which hits the left goal bar and goes in. Another goal by them seals it and Hampton boys walk off the pitch, hangdogged. Eitan skips the customary post-game hot dog.

Well, what can one say? Hampton had a great season and did themselves and their school proud. Eitan played every game and made important contributions to the team - at center midfield, he is the backbone of the squad. And a pleasure to watch. We could not be more proud.

Geneve

Jet d'eau

I'm in Geneva and enjoy a familiar site taken for granted in my yuf - the Jet d'Eau, one of the largest fountains in the world and where Lake Geneva empties into the Rhone.  The jet sends 132 gallons of water per second to an altitude of 140 metres via two hidden pumps. The water leaves the nozzle at 124 mph. At any moment there are about 1,849 gallons of water in the air.

The first Jet d'Eau was installed in 1886 at the Usine de la Coulouvrenière, a little further downstream. It was used as a safety valve for a hydraulic power network and could reach 30 metres. In 1891, its aesthetic value recognised and it was moved to its present location to celebrate the Federal Gymnastics Festival and the 600th anniversary of the Swiss Confederation. 

Since 2003, the fountain has operated during the day all year round, except if frost or, particularly, strong wind

In the late summer, 1983, I swam across the lake, in preparation for the swim season, with Tony, a university student and distance swimmer who proudly drove a Mini Cooper the size of a doghouse. We were oblivious to the speeding motor boats that passed us by.