One of my great uncles survived his ship sinking in the South Pacific. Another great uncle flew over the Burma Hump several times. Still another great uncle and his brother, who hadn’t seen each other for almost two years after enlisting, scrambled for cover during the Battle of the Bulge, and by chance dove into the same foxhole. My grandmother even enlisted in the Marines with her similar-aged aunt, but a health problem that she tried to hide got her sent home.
There’s a Life magazine photo of that great-aunt that never saw print, but remains in the family. I’m lucky enough to have known all of these relatives and a good number of other veterans of World War II, so, needless to say, a keen interest in that war grew in me from an early age.
Initially a museum dedicated only to D-Day, greater interest and subsequent funding helped it grow to its current six (soon to be seven) pavilions on three city blocks in the New Orleans Warehouse District, just about 10 blocks (0.8 miles) south of the French Quarter.
It may surprise some that this national museum isn’t in Washington but in New Orleans. There’s a good reason.
“Andrew Higgins is the man who won the war for us,” President Dwight D. Eisenhower, former general and supreme commander of the D-Day invasion and the Battle of Normandy, once said.
The high-risk beach landing involved 12 nations and a number of casualties, but marked a turning point against Nazi Germany. That operation was made possible by Andrew Higgins, a New Orleans-based manufacturer of swamp boats, whose company produced more than 20,000 LCVPs (Landing Craft, Vehicle, Personnel).
Higgins boats, as they became known, were fast, shallow-draft, and built partly of wood (another benefit, as steel supply was limited), and thus they were able to slip right up onto a beach, deposit 36 soldiers, and withdraw only with engine power. The myriad Pacific islands didn’t offer tidy ports to land vast numbers of troops, and neither did the beaches of Normandy, so one can understand that Eisenhower wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest. Higgins’s staff went from about 50 to 30,000, working three shifts round the clock with an integrated staff that included blacks and women, an uncommon practice at the time.
History is so much more than dates, and this museum brings its subject to life with many interactive displays, such as a submarine replica, a jungle environment that you can walk through, and full-size warplanes suspended from the ceiling, as well as thousands and thousands of artifacts, more than 9,000 personal accounts, and abundant archival footage that isn’t always easy to look at.
The best place to start is with “Beyond All Boundaries,” a “4D” film narrated by Tom Hanks with Gary Sinise, Viola Davis, Brad Pitt, and many other actors voicing writings from the war. The 50-minute film shows hourly in the theater on an ultra-wide screen and combines graphics with special effects. When tanks roll, bombers fly, or shells explode with bright strobe flashes, your seat shakes unnervingly. In the quiet of a forest before the Battle of the Bulge, actual snow falls from the ceiling, a moment of beauty before the horrors of battle return to teach audiences about the deadliest battle of the war in terms of U.S. casualties.
The stories of wars never fail to chronicle the battles and the ultimate sacrifices that come with them, and rightly so. But a great museum brings us all on board. There’s something here for everyone to learn, with exhibits dedicated to the Merchant Marines, who risked much in moving supplies through seas of prowling submarines; Andrew Higgins; the Holocaust; the Battle of the Bulge; the women in the factories; the contributions of black and Native American soldiers and citizens; and the Japanese Americans who served in battle while their families remained in internment camps.
One exhibit shows how manufacturers converted their production to support the needs of the military. Typewriter maker Underwood began producing carbines—thousands of them. Indeed, even public dissent has its mention—the percentages of Americans against the war at the time, those who remembered the first “Great War” and supported isolationism—and the events that turned the tide, notably the attack on Pearl Harbor.
The term “world” war isn’t to be taken lightly. The scale of the geography alone is staggering. The vast numbers of lives lost by so many countries, both military personnel and civilians caught in the middle, are near impossible to wrap one’s head around, let alone cover comprehensively in a single museum. This is self-consciously a U.S. war museum and not to be misconstrued as a slight to all the other nations involved. Even so, the museum can be overwhelming and, frankly, quite moving.