The Reagans and Gratitude

She slipped away, to place small American flags before row upon row of white crosses, honoring the fallen of D-Day 1944. Her husband, Ronald Reagan, delivered one of the most compelling speeches of his life, perhaps in the life of the nation. The year was 1984, June 6, 1984.

President Reagan spoke with conviction and purpose. He spoke not to rally others, but to honor those who threw themselves into the teeth of evil, knowing the day might be their last. For 4,400 Allied boys, it was. Each gave all he had that day, and to whom? To those he loved, and to us.

Reagan spoke of honor and courage, duty and devotion to freeing a continent from evil. He spoke of those who died to those who lived; he spoke of memories to those who remembered. I recall it all because, in my youth, his words and convictions were transfixing.

Last week it washed over me again, as if time had played a terrible trick. Here, in a blink, was the 40^th anniversary of that 40^th anniversary, survivors in wheelchairs, ages 98 to 104, humbling.

Humbling, too, was realizing the speed at which time passes. We are as far from Reagan’s moving speech that day in 1984, as he was then from the event itself, from D-Day.

This is the point. Time passes fast, so permit me a reflection on reflection, sober pause to hear the echo of Reagan four decades after he offered his tribute to freedom, courage, America, and the “Boys of Pointe Du Hoc,” 225 soldiers who scaled those cliffs a 100 feet high at Normandy.

Said Reagan, honoring them and all who fought for liberty that day: “These are the boys of Pointe du hoc. These are the men who took the cliffs. These are the champions who helped free a continent. These are the heroes who helped end a war.”  I recall his gravelly voice cracking.    

He and they knew, as we do, what it meant: We must pass forward what it takes for liberty to survive. America Herself is an idea, yes a place on the globe and in history, and in our living, beating hearts, but She is mostly an idea. The idea is only as enduring as our resolve to instill it.

Only if, 40 years from now and 40 from there, Americans understand what D-Day was fought for, the courage it took, the sacrifice engendered, love required, will America – the idea – prevail. Only if those who come after us carry liberty’s torch as high as 80 years ago, is freedom safe.

What am I saying? D-Day was a day of profound importance, like April 19, 1775, when America said “no more” to a tyrannical British Government at Lexington, like the “Band of Brothers” at Bastogne, like brave days when Americans rose to defend liberty in thousands of places.

But we do not breathe forever, not even heroes. If we are grateful, we must teach the courage of Normandy, teach what freedom means – the idea of America, and how to preserve it.

The 40^th of the 40^th is now behind us. Strange to say it, but true. We live among leaders who test our faith, patience, and democracy’s strength but know who we are, why we are, and what we owe.

Those who came before us taught us well the value of freedom, and that preserving this God-given gift for those we love can mean our life. We must teach that, the burden gratitude imposes.

Gratitude is why she slipped away, to place small American flags before row upon row of white crosses, honoring the fallen. Gratitude is why her husband’s voice cracked, those 40 years ago.

Robert Charles is a former Assistant Secretary of State under Colin Powell, former Reagan and Bush 41 White House staffer, attorney, and naval intelligence officer (USNR). He wrote “Narcotics and Terrorism” (2003), “Eagles and Evergreens” (2018), and is National Spokesman for AMAC.