Europe Day

Two memories of old VE Day in France. Once I stood in Bayeux in bright sunshine, the small bridges over the rivers bedecked - the only word, implying weight as well as decoration - with colourful flowers, as a parade of old soldiers marched past carrying regimental flags and wearing their medals. A band, the local French Scouts or Guides, another band, a different group of soldiers and young people. I remember the sunlight on the gold braid on the flags, the dignity, the seriousness of it. And five years later I was in a small Provencal village, where the parade of soldiers was just three men, very smart in blue blazers and medals, carrying gold-braided tricolours and regimental banners. There was a small band, and then a huge parade of American motor cars which went on for a long time. Each driver was awarded a rosette, each recipient made a speech, and on it went. Elderly fat Frenchmen drove past on LOUD Harley-Davidson motorcycles. We escaped for the day but when we came back in the late afternoon the speeches and driving and motor-cycles were still going on. (I find the French love of American culture - or aspects of it such as rock n roll and motorcycles - odd but fascinating; as if these two revolutionary countries had deeper connections than first appear.)

It is now called Europe Day to celebrate peace rather than defeat, but perhaps with fewer old soldiers less seems to be made of it. I wondered if they made more of it in Normandy because their sense of liberation in 1945 was stronger, as they saw heavy fighting for weeks after D-Day; the countryside is still dotted with gigantic cemeteries. In Provence the sense of liberation - especially nowadays - was perhaps more academic. Either way, a strange coincidence to witness the celebration twice at opposite ends of the country.