Happiness is a warm gun.

I'm Preston Mizner, 20.


This is Omaha Beach, Easy Green sector.

I stood on this beach 67 years after my Great-Grandfather stormed it with the 16th RCT. In the third picture I stood at the waters edge and stared at the 100m long beachhead. It was high tide though and our tour guide said that when they assaulted at low tide, the beachhead was nearly 200m long.

Finally, Pawpaw made it to the “seawall”; a small mound of sand not even knee high. In front of him was a hill crawling with entrenched Nazis. Our guide pointed to where the MG nests were supposed to be and all I could do was ponder how horrid the beach must have been.

From that day forward, I knew I would never be the man my great grandfather was. But goddammit, I knew I would give it everything.

I just wish he would’ve lived long enough to see me make it to West Point or earn my jump wings. I know he would’ve been proud.