Salute to the Unseen

Brittany Scott
Oil on Linen, 40" x 50"
$10,500
ARTIFACT: American Flag flown at Normandy during WWII

NARRATIVE: “In June 2014, my eleven-year-old son and I traveled to Normandy, France, for the 70th Anniversary of D-Day. As part of his personal remembrance project called ‘Project Vigil,’ my son spent four days in the American Cemetery, teaching visitors about three paratroopers buried there. On D-Day, June 6th, the local police wouldn’t let him enter the cemetery, so he took his 48 star WWII era American flag down to Omaha Beach and planted his homemade flagpole firmly in the sand. All he wanted to do was say thank you to the young Americans who fought and died on that beach exactly 70 years earlier.

Together, we unfurled the flag into the wind where it whipped and snapped with such force that my son strained to hold it steady. When he turned his gaze to the English Channel, he saw a vision of the spirits of our infantry soldiers heading for the shore in D-Day morning. He was so moved by this, he raised his hand to salute them. And just for a moment, he was just a little boy with a flag, standing alone on a beach in Normandy. He held the flag and his salute for an hour and a half. As he stood there saluting, he quietly hummed the old songs his heroes would have loved. While he hummed Glenn Miller’s ‘American Patrol,’ he thought of the young infantrymen who held that cheerful song so dearly in their hearts, as they lived the final moments of their lives. And as he imagined their lives ending in violent, horrible deaths upon the same sand of ‘Bloody Omaha’ where he now stood, he began to cry. He briefly broke his salute to wipe the tears away.

After a while, people came down to the water to see the saluting boy. Children approached to see if he was real. Some teased him to try to break his concentration; others wanted to have their picture taken with him. Then came the TV news. But he didn’t smile. His eyes remained fixed on the image of the spirits of our soldiers coming ashore. When the tide crept in, he refused to retreat a single step. Members of our Armed Forces encouraged him. Our veterans saluted him and then a lone trumpeter joined him in his vigil. After an hour had passed, his knees began to weaken and the muscles in his arms and hands began to cramp, but he didn’t want to leave the beach. He stayed strong…for them, and for their memory.

Finally, the moment came when he raised his right hand, signaling to me that he was ready to say goodbye. I took the flag and he collapsed into my arms. As I held him, I was struck by a deep sadness for all the mothers and fathers who never had the chance to comfort their sons in June 1944. There once was an eleven-year-old boy standing alone on Omaha Beach. In his left hand he held the most beautiful flag in the world. In his heart he held the flame alight for those who made the ultimate sacrifice for freedom. In his soul he held the future of the American ideal.” (Source: projectvigil.com)

For me, this painting is about the ability to see what others cannot see, to see past cultural, religious, racial and social barriers that build walls between us and to honor the humanity that lies within. A remembrance of the human spirit is what this boy brought to the cemetery and to the beach. He knew their names and their stories and, instantly, upon hearing their stories, others felt connected to them and deeply moved by their sacrifice.

Humanity is the thread that connects each and every one of us, those who have gone before, those who are living today and those who are still yet to be born, yet we live at a time where political views and social status often become more important than our shared humanity. We sometimes forget how to disagree respectfully and how to stand together against a common enemy. Our experiences vary widely and what we see can be completely different, even as we stand on the same beach looking out at the same vast body of water.

The boy’s experience was different from the soldier’s, but it was also different from the others who encountered him on the beach that day. His vision saw so much more than an open beach and crashing waves and it was his experience that made a lasting impression on so many. We don’t always get to choose our experiences, but we do get to determine our mindset and our attitude in every experience. Let us strive to see the humanity in those around us, those who came before, and those for whom we are laying a foundation.