The 1951 Journal Of An American Writer Living In Paris And Travelling In Western Europe

(EUROPEAN TOUR JOURNAL). Handwritten journal. May 22-December 18, 1951. France, England, Italy, and Switzerland. 101 pages. The journal of an American man living in Paris and travelling throughout France and surrounding countries. The early part of the journal describes his daily life in Paris, including friends and social life, love life, gossip, literature, music, and aspirations as a writer. He also writes extensively about tennis, of which he was an enthusiastic and knowledgeable fan. He attends an international tennis tournament in Paris in May and goes to London for Wimbledon in late June. The latter two-thirds of the journal recount the authors travels. First, he takes a whistle-stop tour of France, visiting places such as Rouen, Mont St. Michel, Biarritz, and Lourdes. Then, he spends time in Italy and Switzerland before ending up back in Paris. In each location, he describes leisure activities, visiting museums and churches, hotels, and the local scenery in greater or lesser detail. Most notably, he visits the beaches of Normandy, only a few years after D-Day: Finally I got to the tiny hamlet of St. Laurent s Mer & the sign Visitez Ohama Beach. I drove down a quiet road & suddenly burst out onto the beach itself, a lonely, barren stretch made more so by a high mind to the presence of the resting hulks of invasion craft lying mortally stranded just offshore in an angry, green sea. There are piles of rusted, neglected equipment corresponding to the wrecks in the water which are being collected together by French workmen. A few campers had pitched their tents amongst gasoline drums, huge cannisters & decayed tank. I drove slowly along the beach made muddy by recent rain until I came to what had once been a German gun emplacement which according to a plaque had been utilized on D-Day by the CG of the Engineers as his HQ. The German gun, a 37 mm, still faced through an aperture staring emptily out at the wrecks offshore. Amongst these latter were the concrete slacks that I guessed to be the remains of the preliminary, artificial harbour they had sunk right away. The scene with the forgotten appurtenances of war was one of the most indescribable desolateness & I felt in the grip of the strongest of emotions. June, 1944 came back to me & how we heard the news of the invasion over loud-speakers in Hangar AD-1 at Burtonwoof & if I listened carefully I felt I could hear the guns booming & the l/cs chugging up to shore & the GIs splashing out in the cold water & moving slowly but desperately up the beach pinned down by the German fire from concrete emplacements & from the high, green eminence which rises abruptly from the beach & runs all along the shore. How many men had met their end right where I was standing? How many had coughed out their hopes & their life in the din of that horror never understanding why it had to happen to them? But I couldnt ear a thing, only the sound of the wind & the sea and all I could see were those obscene wrecks & the Frenchmen working among them. This lively journal is in fine condition overall, and the writing is uniformly easy to read.