I feel like I have a special tie to WWII in general, and to the landing at Normandy on June 6, 1945 in particular.
First, many members of my family served in both theaters of the war. My Uncle Robbie (my mother's baby brother) was at Omaha, and returned safely to die in his sleep at too early an age.
Second, this is the type of warfare the U.S. Navy trained me to conduct. I've been through some eight landings under combat conditions, albeit none where Hans and Fritz were actually trying to kill me, and I can only imagine what it must have been like on the scale that my Uncle Robbie experienced.
There are precious few of these people left now, and their ranks grow thinner daily. But the memories they shared, and the common thread of their effort and their legacy will never fade away.