A year ago June, my son and I traveled to Paris and Normandy, including stops at Omaha Beach, Rouen, Caen, and Le Havre, where I served in 1944 and 1945.

I was with the Navy Ship Salvage Unit Foxy 29. I landed on Omaha Beach at the end of June 1944 on the LST-291 with a cargo of tanks for the Army. Our mission was to clear the heavily mined ports of Cherbourg and Le Havre of ships and cranes that the Germans had sunk to impede our supply ships. Although the Germans mined a number of these sunken ships, we located the wreckage by trolling the harbors with a long bar and dredge, similar to those used on commercial fishing boats. Luckily, we accomplished our missions with only minor mishaps.

Returning to the harbor at Le Havre spurred a memory of my doing repairs low down on the hull of a ship. When I looked up, I saw a fat man with a big cigar watching me weld. I thought, "It can't be," but it was - Winston Churchill.

Although I never dreamed that I would want to return to a place of so much suffering and chaos, there I was, back at Omaha, this time watching my son, Stefan, have a swim.

He and my fellow travelers kindly organized a calvados toast at the surf's edge in honor of my service. We then made our way up the bluff to the Normandy American Cemetery, where more than 9,000 American heroes are buried. The sorrow and thankfulness I felt as I walked among the countless rows of grave markers was overwhelming.

It is still a joy to recall the unbelievable warmth shown to me by both the locals and other travelers. Most of Caen and Rouen were unrecognizable, rebuilt from the war's devastation. Our tour guide was expert in the history of the region, and his mention of my service was always met with a chorus of "Merci beaucoup!"

One restaurateur in Rouen responded with hugs, and we lifted a toast: "Vive La France! Vive Les Etats Unis!"