I was recently in Germany. I spent a week listening to the book of Ruth explained clearly, and enjoyed good times with close friends; over walks through fields or large glasses of wine.
The following weekend, after 12 hours jumping from train to train, I found myself staying in Normandy with students from all over Paris. On one train, a friend and I spoke of the tragedy of WWII, and our poignant journey. Just decades after the conflict, we, an Englishman and an Englishwoman, freely travelled in the same carriage as some young German soldiers.
I find statistics from WWII utterly incomprehensible. According to different sources, between 50-70 million people died in this conflict between 1939 and 1945, thousands of whom are buried at the Ohama Beach Cemetery.