With the 75th anniversary of D-Day approaching, the thoughts of my father’s place in that time of history seem more fitting than ever.

Sadly, my beloved Dad passed away this past January at the age of 95. 

Maurice Dore was born, and lived most of his life, in Massachusetts. While my siblings and I were growing up, he, like many others, did not speak about his war experiences.

It wasn’t until years later while sorting through decades of old photos that questions arose as to when and where some of them were taken. After some prodding, he gradually began to tell his story.

As a 19-year-old Seabee in the 81st Naval Construction Battalion, he landed on Utah Beach on June 6, 1944. He then spent approximately four months in a naval encampment.

While there, he encountered a family of four children. They had not only lost their home during the Allied bombing of Caen, but their mother was killed in the carnage.

The oldest of four, Genevieve, who was nine at the time, lead her siblings out of the house and they were cared for by their grandmother.

Their father had been previously sent to a labor camp by the Nazis.

My Dad began taking them extra C-rations, which included a sewing kit.

Learning that the grandmother was a seamstress, he encouraged others assigned to the area to take their sewing projects to her as a providing some financial help.

In 2011, one of my brothers resolved to make the trip to Normandy with the express purpose of seeing the specific sites where my Dad had been. He arranged for a guide who was an authority on Utah Beach.

Knowing that Genevieve and her family had lived in Saint Marie du Mont in 1944, the guide set out to locate her.

Incredibly, she had remained in the town and agreed to meet with my brother and his wife. She warmly welcomed them and shared her memories of that time.

Through the years, she remembered by Dad and spoke of her gratitude for what he had done to help her family. She showed them around and photos were taken in the exact locations where my Dad had once stood with her and her family.

Following that extraordinary trip, Genevieve maintained contact with my parents. Since then, her health has deteriorated. Her grand niece has carried on in her place.

When hearing of my Dad’s passing, the family was saddened and with the anniversary nearing, we were invited to Normandy to be their guests.

My two brothers, their wives and my husband and I will be there.

Jeannine Kemple lives in Lincolnville