Every year people ask us, “Is it worth going to the British Normandy Memorial?”
Short answer: yes. Long answer: go - but don’t treat it like a sightseeing stop. To be honest, when you get there it reels you in and you don’t get this option. It’s never a whistlestop visit.
When Standing with Giants is installed across the meadow fields overlooking Gold Landing Beach, the experience shifts again. It becomes layered. Physical. Unavoidable.
We’ve been every year it has stood here. (usually several visits without planning to!)
Not because it’s comfortable. Because it matters.
The walk in - history first, then the Giants, then the names
One of the reasons this site resonates so deeply is the way it unfolds.
As you walk up to the British Normandy Memorial, you first pass a series of large white marble pillars detailing the history of the war and the Normandy Campaign - campaign timelines, key moments, and context - clearly presented in both French and English.
You absorb the wider story first. The enormity. The planning. The human cost.
Then, as you continue around the site, the meadow opens.
The silhouettes appear. Rows upon rows of figures standing quietly in the grass.
The Standing with Giants installation is set around the back and to each side of the British Memorial itself, framing it rather than replacing it, all overlooking Gold Landing Beach.
Walking among the Giants
The fields surrounding the Memorial are filled with 1,475 life-sized silhouettes. They stretch across the meadow, spilling gently up towards the top of the bluff overlooking Gold Landing Beach.
They are not arranged in neat military formation. They sprawl. They cluster. They feel almost organic against the grass and sky.
Pathways cut carefully through sections of the field, allowing visitors to walk between some of the figures. You don’t just stand at the edge and look in - you enter.
And this is where something extraordinary happens.
When you stand directly in front of a silhouette, you see a full figure. A person. Solid. Present.
Take one step to the side - and they vanish.
Because they are not three-dimensional. They are flat steel forms. Gone in the blink of an eye.
Step again - and they re-emerge.
It’s astonishing.
That simple shift of perspective does something quietly devastating. Presence. Absence. Presence again.
It’s a visual trick that turns into a thought you can’t unthink.
The wind whistles through the steel edges.
Conversations drop to murmurs without anyone being told to be quiet.
As you look across to other spectators, you often see a tear being wiped away - sometimes through your own tear-filled eyes.
We’ve seen teenagers fall quiet. We’ve seen older visitors search carefully for a name.
From certain angles, you see dozens. From others, only a handful. And then you turn and realise how many stretch beyond your peripheral vision.
They don’t overwhelm you all at once. They reveal themselves gradually.
Presence. Absence. Presence again.
And just as you begin to understand the scale of the field, your eye is drawn beyond them - to the pale stone pillars of the Memorial itself.
The main Memorial - architecture and presence
And within the main British Memorial itself stand multiple pillars engraved with the 22,442 names of servicemen and women who died under British command during the Normandy Campaign, from 6 June to 31 August 1944.
Multiple pale stone pillars rise in ordered lines beneath open sky. No roof. No enclosure. The sea visible beyond. Wind moving freely through the space.
The architecture is deliberate - minimal, restrained, almost austere. Nothing distracts from the names.
You walk between pillars rather than around them. It feels less like viewing and more like entering.
The 1,475 silhouettes represent those lost on D-Day itself. The engraved pillars reflect the wider Normandy Campaign - the long, grinding weeks that followed.
Some visitors trace a finger along carved lettering. Some search for a surname. Most grow quiet.
In a world that moves fast, this site forces you to slow down.
Standing there, under open sky, with the sea beyond, perspective shifts.
For Your Tomorrow, We Gave Our Today
“D-Day 1475 – For Your Tomorrow, We Gave Our Today” commemorates the 1,475 lives lost on 6 June 1944 under British command.
Created by Standing with Giants, the installation consists of 1,475 steel silhouettes, each standing just under two metres tall.
The journey here is part of the story.
In 2024, marking the 80th anniversary of D-Day, the silhouettes began their journey in Oxfordshire before travelling to Normandy.
Harley Davidson riders crossed the Channel with Brittany Ferries, departing Portsmouth Harbour after ceremonies at Blenheim Palace and Fort Nelson.
It’s an unusual sight - leather jackets and remembrance riding side by side - but somehow it works.
The installation travelled in 18 specially designed stillages created by Standing with Giants. The bases of those stillages were decorated with 22,442 knitted poppies - each handmade and donated by Women’s Institute members nationwide - representing the total number of fallen service personnel commemorated on the Memorial.
Standing with Giants worked closely with the Normandy Memorial Trust, selecting real letters from fallen servicemen of the Normandy Campaign. These personal words accompanied the installation, connecting engraved names with lived stories.
The silhouettes were displayed:
British Normandy Memorial - 21 April 2024 to 31 August 2024
National Trust Stowe Gardens - 1 October 2024 to 11 November 2024
British Normandy Memorial - 12 April 2025 to 12 September 2025
Royal Armouries Fort Nelson, Portsmouth - 22 October 2025 to 30 November 2025
British Normandy Memorial - 12 April 2026 to 19 September 2026
In 2026, UK and French Harley Davidson chapters will again assist.
The volunteers - and why that matters
Around 30 volunteers take approximately two weeks to erect the installation each year. Every silhouette is positioned by hand.
Friends of ours - Amy-Jo and Paul - are part of that volunteer effort, helping erect the figures and dismantle them at season’s end.
In 2024, volunteers were joined by staff from BAE Systems participating in company charity initiatives and local Normandy residents.
This isn’t a temporary spectacle installed by anonymous contractors. It is community effort. Deliberate placement. Care.
When you know that, the field feels different. More intentional. More human.
The plaques - living remembrance
Alongside the Giants sit commemorative plaques sponsored by members of the public.
These are deeply personal memorials. Sometimes honouring a direct relative - a grandfather, a great-uncle, a name carried through generations. Other times simply reading, “Thank you for your sacrifice.”
Some names you won’t recognise. But someone does.
As you read them, you realise remembrance here isn’t abstract. It continues.
During the installation, the plaques stand in front of the silhouettes. Afterwards, they remain at the Memorial for at least five years - a lasting and visible tribute.
The day the fog rolled in
We visited in early September 2025. Forecast said bright. Instead, thick coastal fog rolled in and swallowed the meadow.
The silhouettes didn’t disappear - they half-existed.
Figures emerged from the mist as you approached. Step sideways - gone. Move forward - there again.
It echoed that same strange visual truth: presence, absence, presence again. Only this time the landscape was doing it too.
Other visits have been bright and sharp, usually with a healthy coastal wind pushing across the bluff. But that foggy morning brought us down to ground level with a jolt.
Visibility was low. The horizon blurred. The sea barely visible beyond the edge of the field.
And we found ourselves thinking - this may well have been what they experienced in June 1944. Uncertainty. Limited visibility. No clean horizon.
It wasn’t dramatic. It was disorientating.
And that disorientation made it feel closer somehow.
The Memorial honours more than soldiers
The Memorial honours those who died under British command during the Normandy Campaign.
It also honours local French civilians and members of the French Resistance who were killed during D-Day.
Normandy was not an empty battlefield. It was villages, farms, homes. War arrived here.
Practicalities (and the Winston Churchill Café)
The Memorial is free to enter, with a small parking charge. There are toilets, picnic areas and space to sit.
There is also the Winston Churchill Café, offering baguettes, cakes - and proper Yorkshire tea.
After walking among 1,475 silhouettes and 22,442 engraved names, a cup of tea overlooking the British Memorial to the battle of Normandy and those lives lost at Gold Landing Beach on D-Day feels grounding rather than trivial.
Accessibility ♿
The Memorial is all on one level and open.
Much of the installation sits on grass, so it isn’t perfectly smooth underfoot - but it is manageable.
We’ve taken Mum in a wheelchair when she couldn’t manage the walk, and we’ve been able to move around the site without difficulty.
The pathways allow access between sections of the silhouettes, and the central Memorial space is accessible.
It’s open air. It’s not rushed. You can take it at your own pace.
If you’re exploring from La Manche
From our gîte in La Manche, it makes for a powerful but manageable day trip - reflection in the morning, countryside calm in the evening.
If you’d like more context while planning, explore our collection here:
Final thoughts
It isn’t loud. It doesn’t demand emotion. It simply stands.
They stand. And because they stand, we remember.
If you’re in Normandy between April and September 2026, go. Give it time.
And when you return to La Manche afterwards, the quiet feels earned.
