I have been to Normandy twice with a camera, seven years apart, and come back with two completely different sets of photographs.
The first trip, in 2019, stayed east — Calvados, the bridges and the cemeteries and Omaha, shot on a Canon 6D Mark II. The second, in August 2026, went west into the Manche and was over in one afternoon: out of the car at Pointe du Hoc at twenty to four, back into it at Utah just after seven, all of it on a Fujifilm X-T2 in black and white.
They belong together, so here they are in one place, in the order I’d read them.
2019 — east, in the Calvados
Pegasus Bridge — where it started, just before midnight on 5 June 1944, with three gliders and a café that is still open. I met Madame Arlette Gondrée, who was there as a child and is the same age as my mother.
The Merville Battery — the same day as Pegasus Bridge, between the bridge in the morning and Ranville in the afternoon. Four casemates the RAF could not break, taken in the dark by a battalion that arrived with a fraction of the men and none of the equipment it was supposed to have. I never wrote it up at the time and the photographs sat on a disk for seven years.
Commonwealth War Cemetery, Ranville — the men who didn’t come back from that night. Mostly 6th Airborne, mostly very young. A tank crew buried together, a German Jew under a false name, a parachutist buried with his dog.
Omaha Beach — the hard one. American families arriving on what is plainly a pilgrimage, and the cemetery at Colleville-sur-Mer up on the bluff behind.
Honfleur at night and Honfleur, daytime — the other Normandy. A harbour, some galleries, Erik Satie’s birthplace and a great deal of Calvados. Nothing to do with 1944, and a useful reminder that people live here.
2026 — west, into the Manche
Pointe du Hoc — about 225 Rangers climbed a thirty-metre cliff to find the gun positions empty. The guns were a kilometre inland, loaded and aimed at Utah. What the popular version gets wrong, and what eighty years of weather has done to the concrete.
Sainte-Mère-Église — the paratrooper on the church tower, and the plaque on a private house at 4 rue Eisenhower that lists ten men of one mortar squad. Seven of them were killed. He is one of the three who weren’t.
Utah Beach, and the road to Strasbourg — I went for the American story and came away with a French one. Borne N°1 du Serment de Koufra stands on this beach, and it is not what I assumed it was.
One design, three beaches
The thing that ties the two trips together only turned up when I got the 2026 photographs onto a screen. The granite column I photographed at Omaha in 2019 is a Signal Monument — one of ten identical monoliths put up along the invasion front by the Comité du Débarquement in the 1950s, designed by Yves-Marie Froidevaux. Six on the coast, four inland, from Ouistreham to Saint-Martin-de-Varreville, so that the whole front reads as one event.
I photographed two more of them in a single afternoon in 2026 — in the square at Sainte-Mère-Église and again at Utah — and did not recognise either of them at the time. Three of the ten, seven years apart, entirely by accident.
Everything filed under Normandy
- Pegasus Bridge
This is the first in a series of posts about Normandy, and now you know where I went on holiday this year! Having lived in France for so long Normandy… - Commonwealth War Cemetery, Ranville
In my last article I talked about Normandy and the battle to take Pegasus Bridge, and in this article I want to talk about the soldiers that didn’t come back…. - Omaha Beach, Normandy
Omaha Beach, a critical D Day landing site, witnessed the immense sacrifice of the 1st and 29th Infantry Division of the US Army. General Bradley nearly abandoned the operation due to heavy casualties. Today, American families visit as a form of pilgrimage, while the nearby American War Cemetery stands as a somber reminder of the price of warfare. - Honfleur at night
Honfleur, a picturesque town in Normandy, is the birthplace of composer Erik Satie. Its charm attracts Parisians and art lovers, with galleries and a connection to renowned painters. The town offers culinary delights like Camembert and Calvados. A peaceful night stroll around the old harbor provided an opportunity for photography, showcasing Honfleur’s beauty. - Honfleur, Daytime
I’ve been trying to “find myself” lately as far as photography goes. Different editing techniques instead of always doing black and white. Maybe it’s time to get back to basics… - The Merville Battery
I went to the Merville Battery in August 2019, between Pegasus Bridge in the morning and the war cemetery at Ranville in the afternoon. I wrote about both of those and never wrote about this, and the photographs sat on a disk for seven years. This is the part of that day I had let go of. - Normandy, 1944 — All Sixteen
Two trips, seven years apart, and I only worked out this week that they were ever the same project. Sixteen photographs between Pegasus Bridge and Utah Beach, all in black and white now, all live in the shop. - Pointe du Hoc
Back to Normandy after seven years, and this time west into the Manche. I got out of the car at Pointe du Hoc at twenty to four and back into it at Utah just after seven. This is the first of three posts from that one afternoon — craters, concrete, and about six hundred thousand other visitors a year. - Sainte-Mère-Église
Forty minutes up the road from Pointe du Hoc, and a completely different kind of remembering. At Pointe du Hoc it’s in the ground. Here it’s on the houses, on the church, in the street names — and on a black plaque outside somebody’s front door that took me a while to properly read. - Utah Beach, and the road to Strasbourg
Last of three, and the one that surprised me. I went to Utah expecting the American story and came away with a French one, and I didn’t work that out until I got the pictures on a screen and started reading the writing on things. Two armies, two months apart, same sand. - Eleven O’Clock
On 11 November most French communes stop for a wreath, a short speech and a roll call of the local dead. Then everyone goes home for lunch. I have stood at the other end of it, and I have been thinking about it since Normandy.
There will be more. I have not been to Sword or Juno, I still haven’t been inside the church at Sainte-Mère-Église to see the windows, and the Pointe du Hoc visitor centre doesn’t reopen until 2027.