I am currently involved in an investigation that involves three different organizations, including my own, along the supply chain. The focus is to reduce foreign material that finds its way into the process. A multi-organizational team was chartered, which I was tasked to participate on, representing my organization.
Our first meeting involved discussing and mapping the process steps for the supply chain and rating the perceived likelihood each particular step was a probable point of ingress for foreign material. Once these assumptions were complete, the next step was to confirm those assumptions, or modify them based on additional data collected. This data was to be collected by a visit to each of the three sites involved along the supply chain, making personal observations, and querying SMEs for the process at each site.
We began at my site, in the mid-west. We then went to the next site up the supply chain in the Philadelphia area. Finally we went to the top of the supply chain (for our purposes) in Europe. Each site visit revealed new data that validated some assumptions and altered our perceptions around other assumptions. The point here is that until our team made the visits to the sites, we could not even remotely begin to appreciate what takes place in each process. Even then, our limited understanding of each site could only begin to focus into meaning with the help of the "eyes on the ground."
We completed our visits and our project is in its final phase, with recommendations for each organization along the supply chain. It was a good project.
Knowing that I was going to be in Europe, I got on Google maps and determined how far I would be from Omaha Beach. Visiting the American Military Cemetery there is something I had always hoped I could do and I wanted to see if it would be possible for me to take an extra day to make the trip. My query revealed that it would be four and a half hours from my hotel in Brussels. I determined to go and I had someone who wanted to join me for the trip.
Our business complete, the appointed day arrived. We left the hotel at 6AM and arrived at Coleville Sur Mer, in France, 5 hours later. It was a cool day. We went in the visitors center first. There were interesting stories of some of the military men that lost their lives. There were also many facts and figures about the D-day landings, most of which I was familiar with. We then left the visitors center. I was overwhelmed by the fact that I was there, on the same ground that such a fearsome battle had occurred.
We walked from the visitors center to the memorial at the end of the cemetery. As we began up the walk to the memorial, my emotion overcame me and I had to remove myself for a moment to regain my composure. I was filled with a sense of awe, humility and gratitude. I had brought my phone to take pictures, but so powerful was the emotion I felt, that it seemed diminishing of the moment to me to trivialize it with photography.
After the memorial I turned and began to descend the steps toward the cemetery. As I looked out upon the six sections of neatly placed rows of graves, all 10,500 of them, I heard the chimes of the memorial strike 12. I listened and watched and tears began to stream down my cheeks as once again, I was overwhelmed by the solemnity of the place and the occasion of my presence. I thought about how good or bad, each one of these graves represented someone who gave the ultimate sacrifice at a pivotal moment in the anals of human history. The thought humbled me deeply and I felt a deep sense of gratitude for their sacrifice.
We then walked down to the beach. The person I was with had promised his daughter to get her some sand from Omaha Beach. We walked along the beach and it was wholly unremarkable as a beach, full of rocks, shells, mussels and cold. My colleague got his sand and I decided to collect a few rocks as mementos. I looked at the bluffs that the soldiers had to scale in a scathing fusilade of gun fire. I though it about 150 yards. A manageable distance, but not so much when one is under fire, I'm sure.
We then went to look at the gun emplacements of the Germans. It was interesting to me that there were pock marks of shells that had struck inside the bunkers through the gun ports. The bunkers had ceilings eight feet thick, made of concrete and reinforced with a lattice work of steel beams and re-bar. I could not imagine the thoughts and fears of the soldiers as they saw and waited for the thousands upon thousands of American troops being hurled at them from the endless number of ships crowding the shore of the English channel that lay before them.
After a couple of hours, I had seen enough. I would have been happy to see more, but I did not come on a sight seeing tour, but rather a personal pilgrimage. The intent of that pilgrimage had been met while I was in the cemetery. For me this was a bucket list day - one of the most powerful events of my life. There were no SMEs to answer questions. Just the memorial stones of over 10,000 witnesses.
It simply is true. You cannot underestimate the value of walking the process. Especially at Omaha Beach.
