My sister-in-law came for the holiday with a belated birthday present for her brother: a CD with scans of the photos their father took when he was a soldier. He was a parachute infantryman, really in the shit as they say, but as we all know, sooner or later things began to break the Allies’ way, and among the spoils of war was a Leica camera he took from a German officer, seen here:
(The camera, not the officer. That’s Roger, who would have been my father-in-law if he’d lived long enough to see us married.)
He carried it through the south of France as troops liberated the region in August 1944. First, the bad guys:
I guess that’s a bunker of some sort. I can only guess at the construction materials, but it must have been a headquarters, don’t you think, with that insignia?
Anyway, up through France they marched. Cannes:
This is what being greeted like liberators looks like:
And no one cares if you take a souvenir or two:
I’d love to know where that flag ended up. Alan says his dad came home with his dog tags and little else. The camera went to an officer, I know. He must have sent the photos ahead somehow.
Quiet day today, not much to report. The coffeemaker broke — on a Monday morning, no less — but we had a backup. Staff call, phone calls, a lingering queasiness that tells me I should really go easier on the rich food, at least over a four-day weekend.
But there is some bloggage:
The perpetually wrong Jennifer Rubin thinks Hillary Clinton can be toppled by? Anyone? Yes, Caroline Kennedy. Your laff of the day.
Finally, the Amazon drones story. I was astounded to see how much attention it was getting today, especially when I heard people discussing it a year ago at the Detroit policy conference. The problems seem so enormous I don’t know how they can be overcome easily, starting with cost. I seriously doubt free shipping is going to be an option here, so what, exactly, might you order from Amazon that you would need in half an hour that would be worth the price of getting it air-dropped? An engagement ring? Olives for your martini? Beyond that, there’s the distance-from-warehouse detail. Drones are very clever little flying machines, but they are short-range solutions. Across town might work, but I can’t send one down to Coozledad’s farm with a bottle of bourbon strapped to its belly (as much as I might like to). A good deal if you live near a “fulfillment center” (and look how many there are in labor-compliant, low-wage states like Indiana and Kentucky) but not so much for everybody else.
Besides, everyone knows what drones should be used for: Taking pictures of Tina Turner’s wedding.