Serendipity

The start of the new season of 2010 is bitterly cold on the Normandy Beaches. The lengthening days are in full sun from morning to dusk but a bitter, biting wind blows from the north – straight from Siberia. I wear several layers to combat the cold, and I do not mind admitting to wearing a pair of long-johns which keep my legs insulated as much as possible.

Over the years working in Normandy I have come to realise that there is a greater power at work, perhaps even a spiritual force which endeavours me as a Normandy tour guide of the D-Day Beaches to do what I must.

One of my ritual questions to clients upon their arrival in Bayeux, Normandy is to ask whether there is any family connection to the D-Day Landings? If so, I ask them to be aware of coincidences, particularly in the area of Omaha Beach and the Normandy American Cemetery at Colleville sur Mer above Omaha Beach. There is nothing sinister in this, and any coincidences are always benign, but powerful. Like the discovery of new information about a relative from the Interpretive Centre at the Normandy American Cemetery, or even your own name and State on a headstone. I keep a catalogue and too many coincidences occur for it to be a coincidence.

Little did I realise that one day it would happen to me.

In early March, 2010 I went to London to visit the Imperial War Museum as I have always wanted to return since last having been there in 1967. I found myself gawping at the same diary that had been penetrated by an enemy bullet, thus saving the soldier's life that I remembered so well from the first time. But, of course, the museum has changed greatly since that time with a huge number of new exhibits including tanks and a V1 and V2 rocket. Fascinating. Then I went into the museum cafe for a much needed cuppa and gazed idly around the walls at the wartime exhibits of food frugality and my eyes rested on a blown up wall photo immediately above where I was sitting of a group of five cooks from the Army Catering Corps being trained in Aldershot in 1939, and heaven help me, but one of them was my dad!!

The photo of my father, aged 26, was previously unknown in the family and we are all agreed upon close examination that it is indeed him. It is one of 10 million photos held by the IWM.

So, what does this mean? What am I, or anyone, supposed to deduce by these coincidences?

Some say there are no such things as coincidences, but I may be forgiven for thinking that I do not know what that means either.

What is for sure is that it is the same guiding hand at work that inspired, empowered and encouraged me to take on my role as a tour guide of the D-Day Landing Beaches. There can be no greater reward than the fulfilment of a life’s dream in doing what you want to do, and be fortunate enough to secure sufficient income to live from it.

I am indeed very grateful.

Michael Phillips.

Normandy, March 2010.