COLLEVILLE-SUR-MER, France -- Task Force Neptune may be the biggest military deployment in Normandy since Operation Overlord launched the D-Day invasion here.
Nearly 2,500 U.S. military personnel have descended on the Norman coast to plan and run the biggest official ceremonies ever here. And that doesn't include thousands of officials from Britain, Canada and the other Allied nations who are here to smooth the way for 14 heads of state, 35,000 veterans and at least 3,000 media representatives.
Some have been here for three months, though planning has gone on for what seems to some here an eternity.
"I've called this project 'The Longest Year,' " says Dave Stewart, the Army press officer who has delicately negotiated the placing of eight TV platforms and three 30-foot camera towers at the U.S. Cemetery in Colleville-sur-Mer.
"We've got a cable jungle out there," he says, nodding to the row of temporary network news booths.
For organizers, creativity is the order of the day.
VIPs helicopter between sites rather than hazard a trip on Normandy's narrow back roads. No place to park thousands of buses and cars? Rent a farmer's field and lay emergency runways across them for roads. Nearest hospital too distant for a crowd heavy on septuagenarians? Set up a full field hospital under tents.
At the U.S. Cemetery, bleachers, platforms and stages are being built for 8,000 invited guests who will hear President Clinton speak. The sound of saws and hammers and lawn mowers are constant, drowning out birds and the gentle slap of the waves on Omaha Beach below.
French road crews have laid fresh gravel. Every night, U.S. honor guards and bands rehearse. Every day, soldiers prepare a myriad of details.
Army Spec. Richard Edwards of Junction City, Ohio, has answered veterans' questions at the cemetery since May 25. His days usually begin at 7: 20 a.m. and last well until 9 p.m. And he's always aware of the dwindling time.
"We're trying to get everything in there, put up all the things we need. And not speaking French makes it hard," says Edwards, 23. "We get off each night just in time to shine our boots, iron our uniforms and get to sleep."
But soldiers say the schedule and workload are nothing compared with what those in the cemetery gave.
"I'm thinking if I could be as brave as they were," says Army Maj. Leslie Rynott of Casper, Wyo., turning to stanch the tears in his eyes as he walked among the marble gravestones. "I'm not really a cemetery-goer but it's important to keep in mind just what sacrifice means."
