Last June, I had the honor of guiding over three days a remarkable family—nieces, nephews, and cousins of First Lieutenant Walter Webster Jr.—through the battlefields of Normandy. For me, it was more than just a tour; it was the privilege of helping them reconnect with a young man whose story deserves to be remembered.
Walter Webster Jr. was born on October 10, 1918, in Massachusetts. A bright student, he graduated from Harvard before entering military service. Originally assigned to the 97th Division, he became part of the replacement pool, destined to fill the inevitable gaps left by the terrible casualties expected after D-Day. On June 18, 1944, he was assigned to I Company, 60th Regiment of the 9th Infantry Division, entering combat in the unforgiving bocage countryside of Normandy.
The family and I traced his path, walking the same landscapes he once crossed. South of Carentan, we stopped at a farm his regiment had helped liberate. For this visit, the family had gone further—they invited many local residents and arranged refreshments and snacks. Their hospitality, generosity, and gratitude deeply touched me. It was not only a gesture of remembrance, but also a way of showing appreciation for the sacrifice Walter made so far from home. Among the locals was an 80-year-old woman who had been born in a trench during the combat in which Walter fought. Moments like this bridged past and present in a way that was both humbling and unforgettable.
Walter’s time at the front was tragically short. On August 5, 1944, near the village of Champs-du-Boult, he was killed by artillery fire—just 26 years old. Barely seven weeks after arriving in Normandy, his life was cut short in the struggle to free France.
Standing with his family by his grave at the Brittany American Cemetery in St. James, I was struck by how personal remembrance can transform history. For the relatives, it was a chance to finally stand on the soil where he fought and died. For me, guiding them was a privilege—a reminder that behind every name carved in stone lies a story of courage, sacrifice, and humanity. By researching Walter’s journey and sharing it with his family, I felt that, in some small way, we were keeping his memory alive. His story, rooted in Massachusetts, and Normandy, is not just one family’s history but part of our collective responsibility to remember.