The D-Day Series
Robert Capa and His Iconic Images of War
Hillary Brown
April 23, 2013
Barnard College
Senior Thesis
Professor Hutchinson
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements……………………………………………………………………………..3
Introduction……………………………………………………………………………………..4
Chapter 1: The Language of Photography……………………………………………………...9
Chapter 2: LIFE magazine……………………………………………………………………..20
Chapter 3: Spielberg’s D-Day………………………………………………………………….31
Conclusion……………………………………………………………………………………..41
Illustrations…………………………………………………………………………………….42
Bibliography………………………………………………………………...............................57
Acknowledgements
2
This thesis project was a challenging eight-month experience and the finished product
would not have been possible without the following people: my father, the World War II
aficionado, who spent many long hours helping to read, reread, and edit dozens of drafts; and
my mother and sister, who provided the crucial emotional support to stave off the ever-looming
insanity. And a special thank you to my advisor, Professor Hutchinson, who helped me turn a
mere fascination with Robert Capa and his photographs into this full-fledged scholarly thesis. I
am forever grateful for your wisdom, guidance, and patience during this long and arduous
journey.
3
Introduction
From the outbreak of World War II, photographers, cameramen, and journalists flooded
Europe in an effort to capture images of the ongoing battles. For many Americans, one
particular battle has become an icon of the European theater: the invasion of D-Day. In the
early morning hours of June 6, 1944, an armada of Ally ships made the turbulent journey
across the English Channel to Normandy. Operation Overlord, as D-Day was formally called,
was designed to open the western front and push the Germans out of France and back east. Due
to the German machine guns strategically perched on the cliffs above, thousands of men died
before they even made it onto the beaches. On one section of the coast, referred to as Omaha
Beach, nothing seemed to go as planned. A LIFE magazine photographer named Robert Capa
“managed to bring back from Omaha Beach the most frequently reproduced film of the D-Day
landings.”1 His photographs are raw and expressive in their depiction of the extreme chaos of
the invasion.
Despite the evolving times, Capa’s D-Day series remains relevant to this day. The
images are iconic war photographs that are just as influential now as they were back in 1944.
How can blurry monochromatic photographs of a war 70 years past still evoke an emotional
response in modern viewers? Five American wars have followed the Second World War; wars
that also produced dramatic photographs and footage. And yet, even in the 21st century, there is
something so compelling and novel about Capa’s photographs- they are able to effectively
bridge generational gaps and substantial technological advances. Most scholars who write
about iconic American photographs choose Joe Rosenthal’s photograph of the flag raising on
Iwo Jima as a representation of the Second World War [Figure 1]. While this image is clearly a
1
John Keegan, introduction to The Eye of War, by Philip Knightley (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson,
2003), 9.
4
moving scene of American triumph, Capa’s photographs are arguably more emotional and
powerful because of how they depict the actual sacrifice and fighting [Figures 2-5]. It is always
easier to show the triumph of America and the strength of its citizen soldiers than the horrific,
lengthy battle they endured. Capa shows exactly what the soldiers faced, from the rainy, foggy
weather and the churning water to their vulnerability to German guns. In other words, where
Rosenthal displays a patriotic scene Capa captures the arduous and deadly process of combat.
Journalist Studs Terkel and author Mariana Torgovnick have referred to the Second
World War as the “Good War,” and the D-Day invasion has been folded into this narrative as
the celebrated battle of the war.2 Torgovnick explains that although the Nazi regime was
already beginning to weaken in 1944, D-Day was significant because it provided the Allies
with a strategic coastal base on the Continent.3 She states that “American cultural memory of
World War II begins [with D-Day]…Britain has its Blitz; the French have the Resistance. The
United States has Normandy and the D-Day beaches.”4 D-Day, therefore, has become an
emblem of American victory—an invasion that solidified a future Ally triumph over the Nazis.
While one could say that all Americans have a fascination with D-Day and World War
II, this would be a generalization. There is a clear portion of the population that does, indeed,
focus on this war more than others and considers it to have been the necessary duty of the
United States. These beliefs most likely began in the 1940s with the white, educated, middle
and upper class Americans who read and subscribed to the illustrious LIFE magazine, and
whom founder Henry Luce targeted for his newest publication. This demographic is
presumably reflective of the contemporary historically aware audience of war movies like
The term is used as the title for Studs Terkel’s book (The Good War) and in Mariana
Torgovnick’s book (The War Complex).
3
Mariana Torgovnick, The War Complex: World War II in Our Time (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 2005), 24-25.
4
Ibid, 25.
2
5
Steven Spielberg’s 1998 film Saving Private Ryan. The adults viewing such a film would most
likely have grown up watching their parents or surrounding adults read the articles and photoessays in LIFE. In addition, it is likely that these adult viewers would have had some kind of
connection to the war, be it a father, an uncle, or grandfather who fought in combat. There is,
therefore, a strong connection between the viewership of Capa’s photographs and Spielberg’s
film—a link that helps these photographs gain a contemporary viewership.
Robert Capa’s role as the photographer is integral in understanding the iconicity and
enduring influence of his D-Day series. His Eastern European roots and journey into the world
of photography greatly contrasted that of his American photojournalist contemporaries. For
Capa, photography was not just his livelihood but also a form of language and communication.
His photographs are able to speak the unspeakable and draw the viewer into his complicated
and layered scenes - scenes of what could easily be described as hell on earth. He was untaught
and uneducated in photographic technique, but his imperfect and amateur work is so expressive
that even the contemporary viewer is able to imagine the sights and sounds of a 1944 combat
zone. The photographs provide a stark distinction to the endless sea of triumphant imagery and
conventional documentary work.
It is undeniable that Capa’s photographs are part of American mass culture. They were
neither for his own private purposes nor for an artistic reason. His photographs were taken with
the intent of being published in the nationally circulated LIFE magazine. It is because of their
placement in LIFE that the D-Day photographs were able to gain such notoriety, and prestige.
While Luce did pay a great deal of attention to his magazine’s visual look and the quality of
the photographs, he was also heavily focused on promoting his Pro-American political views in
each issue. Ultimately, it is due to LIFE’s aesthetic appearance and emphasis on photography
6
that provided Capa’s photographs with the necessary national and international platform. It is
through their use in such a celebrated mass publication that the D-Day photographs are
arguably just as iconic as Joe Rosenthal’s triumphant images. LIFE magazine effectively
introduced Capa and his captivating photographs to the country.
The D-Day photographs still have a sense of immediacy decades after the actual
invasion. They look to the past in a nostalgic fashion by evoking memories of a definitive
victory and a clearly defined mission. Yet, these photographs are also brought into the modern
era through their use as inspiration in the opening sequence of Steven Spielberg’s epic movie.
War has not disappeared and the suffering, the horror, and the fear American soldiers faced on
the Normandy beaches have carried on well into the 21st century. Saving Private Ryan is an
example of the strong connection many modern Americans continue to have with World War
II and D-Day.
Larger questions remain, however. Have Luce’s “end-justifies-the-means” agenda and
the widely held notion of World War II as the “good war” changed the original meaning
behind the photographs? Are Capa’s anti-war values buried when the photographs are placed
within the context of LIFE among text and captions? How does the modern viewer interact
with the photographs in relation to the highly dramatic and violent Saving Private Ryan?
Ultimately, this thesis seeks to answer these questions by exploring Capa’s D-Day photographs
and their journey to iconic status. Robert Hariman and John Louis Lucaites state that “an iconic
photograph can continue to shape public understanding…long after the event has passed.”5
Capa’s photographs have played a role in influencing people’s knowledge and opinions of D-
5
Robert Hariman and John Louis Lucaites, No Caption Needed: Iconic Photographs, Public
Culture, and Liberal Democracy (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007), 17.
7
Day because of their continued relevance and significance in the national culture and identity
of America.
8
Chapter 1: The Language of Photography
To know Robert Capa is to understand his distinct photographs. His D-Day series of
June 6, 1944 has become quite influential in how people perceive the Second World War and
D-Day. The invasion has found a place in history alongside other legendary American battlesBunker Hill, Gettysburg, Battle of the Bulge, Iwo Jima. Even though photography had been
around since 1839, photojournalism was just coming into its own during the 1940s. New and
emerging technologies in both photography and printing helped to boost the burgeoning
industry. Advances made in cameras, like the production of the miniature 35mm Leica,
allowed photographers to capture pictures in a more impulsive and rapid fashion. Capa’s DDay series has become an American symbol in recent decades - an icon of one of the great
European battles of the Second World War. His blurred photograph of a non-descript
American soldier swimming to shore in chest-high water has come to represent the horrors of
that bloody summer day in a variety of media [Figure 3]. The series as a whole portrays the
hellish conditions American soldiers endured in the battle against the German army. Is it
surprising that an Eastern European Jew took one of the most well known American
photographs from World War II? Does it change the meaning of the images or does Capa’s
internationalism (and even Judaism) further enhance the very notion of America fighting for
world (and religious) freedom from tyranny, as witnessed in the photographs? Capa’s notable
photographic style is one of several important points in this larger discussion of how and why
his D-Day series should be considered an icon of war photography.
9
The Photographer
The man who became the celebrated Robert Capa was born Endre Friedmann in 1913
in Pest, Hungary, to a bourgeois Jewish family.6 In 1931, Friedmann’s increased political
fervor, participation in anti-government, leftist demonstrations, and his involvement in the
Communist party led to his arrest and subsequent exile from Hungary. Friedmann then moved
to Berlin with the idea of continuing his education and fulfilling his goal of becoming a
journalist. When his parents were unable to support him anymore with a monthly stipend, he
decided to take up photography as a way to earn money to survive. Later on in his life he said,
“I decided to become a photographer, which was the nearest thing to journalism for anyone
who found himself without a language.”7 For Friedmann, photography was a form of
communication, a channel through which to express his thoughts, ideas, and words. Although
he had taken German throughout much of his adolescent education back in Pest, his adeptness
with languages was weak. In Berlin, he found himself in a foreign land with few friends, a
language barrier, and increasing anti-Semitic rhetoric. Photography, therefore, became a kind
of second language for him. He was a self-taught photographer and it is this lack of a formal
education in the medium that most likely gave the future Robert Capa to have such a singular
perspective of war. He was uninhibited by customary requirements that dictated the proper
lighting, camera position, or framing. This resulted in photographs that appear natural and
spontaneous, traits that the work of many of his contemporaries lacked.
Friedmann soon found himself working for Dephot, one of the premier photo agencies
in Berlin.8 The mission of the renowned German agency seems to have had a strong influence
6
Prior to World War I, the city of Budapest was divided into two sections: Buda and Pest.
Whelan, This is War: Robert Capa at Work (New York: International Center of Photography, 2007),
26.
8
Dephot stands for Deutscher Photodienst or the German Photo Service.
7
10
on Friedmann for the rest of his career. Simon Guttman, the head of Dephot, was said to have
been “trying to produce ‘lively pictures’ and sequences where single photos were
inadequate…[while also in the process of] develop[ing] a new [practice]: the photographer
taking risks, preferring failure to playing safe.”9 Friedmann was inducted into the world of
photojournalism where risking one’s life in order to get the best possible photograph was
lauded and, quite frankly, expected. In World War II alone, “37 print and photographic
correspondents were killed, 112 were wounded, and 50 were interned in prisoner-of-war
camps.”10 He never played it safe at any time in his short career, once stating that “[i]f your
pictures aren’t good enough, you aren’t close enough.”11 Friedmann traveled from war zone to
war zone, capturing images of fighting and struggling soldiers. In the D-Day series one can see
just how much combat photographers gambled in going after the perfect shot. Friedmann was
just as involved in the invasion of Normandy as any of the soldiers he photographed, except
that he was not firing a weapon at the enemy. Susan Sontag writes that, “[o]nly war
photography combines voyeurism and danger. Combat photographers can’t avoid participating
in the lethal activity they record.”12 It is important to note her use of the word “voyeurism”
because through it she implies that war photographers receive some sort of satisfaction or
adrenaline rush at witnessing war. And yet, as Sontag notes, the photographers are not only
viewers but also participants because they are most often embedded with the soldiers whom
they photograph. The photographer is removed from the fighting in that he photographs and
records the violent events, but he is also part of the ambush, the raid, or the invasion in a way
that a typical bystander or voyeur is not.
9
Whelan, This is War, 28.
Susan D. Moller, Shooting War: Photography and the American Experience of Combat (New York:
Basic Books, 1989), 182-183
11
Peter Howe, Shooting Under Fire, (New York: Artisan, 202), 18.
12
Susan Sontag, On Photography (New York: Picador USA, 2001), 39.
10
11
Friedmann’s time at Dephot was enormously instrumental in forming both his
photographic style and method. His combat photographs, from the Spanish Civil War to D-Day
to the French Indochina War, were published in LIFE magazine as part of the publication’s
photo-essay articles. While many of his D-Day photographs are emotionally powerful and
eloquent on their own [Figure 3], the LIFE photo-essay allows for a story to be told through a
sequence of images. The scenes of the landings dramatically unfold in a cinematic format
[Figures 2-5], and Capa’s skill in telling a story through pictures is what makes his work so
captivating. His photographs have a language all their own - they describe the indescribable
actions of combat through imagery. The photographic sequences allowed LIFE readers in 1944
to relive again and again the horrific struggle that occurred on the beaches of Normandy. While
the images reflect the newsreels and films of World War II, the photographs are able to do
something cinema cannot - forever capture one specific moment. Although each photo-essay
showcases five to six images in a cinematic style, the reader is able to appreciate details of
each scene in a way film does not allow.
Friedmann left the continent for London in 1934 due to an increase in anti-Semitism. It
was with this Channel crossing that he abandoned his identity as Endre Friedmann and adopted
the pseudonym Robert Capa. According to Richard Whelan, Friedmann created this new
identity for several reasons, the most basic of which was to avoid confusion with another
European photographer with the same last name.13 The more egotistical reason behind the
name change is that he wanted to create an aura around Robert Capa, a fictional American
photographer who never took personal meetings, but rather had his assistant Endre Friedmann
take care of public matters. The name Robert Capa was inspired by a combination of film
director Frank Capra and actor Robert Taylor. As Friedmann himself stated, the name was
13
Whelan, This is War, 40.
12
“easy to pronounce, easy to spell and easy to remember.”14 Friedmann’s inspiration reflected a
keen interest in film, which played out in his photographs and their cinematic expression of
movement.15 Although the pseudonym was quickly revealed, the name Robert Capa stuck and
became a stage name for Friedmann during the remainder of his life and career.
Capa’s work at Dephot combined with his strong interest in cinema and amateur
photography skills help explain the stylistic choices in his work, specifically with regards to the
D-Day series. During his stays in Paris and Berlin, he often photographed trivial projects, like
sports games, government meetings, and theater actors, as a way to practice and perfect his
craft. It was through these assignments that Capa learned “not only to observe and record but
also to devise ways to bring to dramatic life the events that he photographed.”16 He spent time
learning how to heighten the drama of his subject matter through various techniques, whether
slightly shaking the camera to create an effect of excitement or photographing a sequence of
related shots.
The Photographs
Susan D. Moeller writes that Capa’s “style of photography was often more obviously
romantic (although not naïve) than that of [his] American counterparts who had been weaned
on the documentary tradition of the Farm Security Administration.”17 Romance, in this case,
indicates a sense of expression and emotion in contrast to the formulaic, objective
documentarian approach. Romance is in the photograph of the lone soldier swimming ashore
[Figure 3], one human in the midst of an endless battle. Although the man’s face is not quite in
14
Whelan, Robert Capa: A Biography (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1994), 81.
Capa saw himself as an aspiring actor and wrote his autobiography in hopes of later turning it
into a screenplay for a movie.
16
Christopher Phillips, introduction to This is War: Robert Capa at Work, 9.
17
Moeller, Shooting War, 240.
15
13
focus, the viewer is still able to pick up on emotion through his body language and the frantic
mood of the frame. The image expresses determination and strength, but also fear. There is no
sign of the enemy—only the American soldier is in the frame. Unlike the other photographs in
the series, there is a large amount of open space between the obstacles and other objects. The
soldier is quite exposed, which adds a vulnerable and lonely mood to the photograph.
Furthermore, because the soldier is the only object in view that is remotely in focus, the viewer
is forced to interact with him and contemplate his fate. In contrast, the photograph of soldiers
running through the surf is filled with frantic energy [Figure 2]. The viewer can imagine the
fear, the adrenaline, and the hurried excitement of that moment, as the soldiers lug their
equipment against the agitated water. Capa did not focus on the landing crafts, tanks, and guns,
even though they remain an indistinct part of the background [Figures 2, 4, and 5]. Each of the
series’ four central photographs shows the human element of the war, the men who essentially
became cannon fodder on the beaches. According to Susan Moeller, what distinguishes Capa
from the other photographers on the beaches that day was his “ability to communicat[e] the
drama of war rather than [document] the simple facts of it.”18 It is this mastery at
communicating emotion, expression and drama that gives Capa’s work a powerful edge in
comparison to the work of other combat photographers. These photographs speak of the
horrors, the violence, and the chaotic scramble ashore without uttering a single word. As he did
in his early days in Berlin, Capa allowed photography to speak for him.
Peter J. Carroll and Bert Brandt were two other photographers who witnessed the beach
landings.19 They photographed similar features in their work, such as the landing crafts and the
18
19
Ibid, 240.
Peter J. Carroll worked for the Associated Press and Bert Brandt worked for ACME. There was
one other LIFE photographer with Capa, Bob Landry; all of his film rolls from that day were
lost in the Channel on the way back to London.
14
soldiers, but the viewer is removed from the action and a quieter, less frantic mood dominates
the scenes. In one of Carroll’s photographs [Figure 6], a landing craft momentarily stops to
drop off the group of men who are wading into shore. While these soldiers still appear to be in
danger of German gunfire, there is not the same sense of urgency or disorder as there is in
Capa’s photographs [Figures 2 and 5]. Capa took his photographs from angles that seem to
evoke feelings of nervousness and fear in the viewer. He was immersed in the action, and was,
therefore, able to capture images from behind, in front of, and next to the soldiers. In Carroll’s
image [Figure 6], the men are standing straight up as they move to the beach in contrast to the
men in Capa’s photograph who are pinned down in the rising tide behind German obstacles
[Figure 5]. In another one of Capa’s images [Figure 2], the viewer looks down onto the soaked
soldiers and the churning, foaming water. There is a greater amount of detail due to the fact
that Capa is right behind the men as they leave the landing craft. Based on the camera angle, it
seems that Carroll was on another landing craft farther away from the action, rather than on the
beach like Capa.
Brandt’s work is strikingly different to both Capa and Carroll. Although Carroll did not
capture drama like Capa, he still photographed soldiers against the backdrop of thick, ominous
smoke. Brandt’s photograph [Figure 7], on the other hand, is upbeat, positive, and celebratory.
The soldiers smile as they leisurely wade ashore, rather than run or hunch or swim. There is no
a sense of sacrifice in comparison to Capa’s images because Brandt took this photograph in the
aftermath of the battle. The image is focused and clear allowing the viewer to fully see many of
the faces detail. Capa’s blurred and out-of-focus photographs prevent the viewer from seeing
faces in detail, a characteristic that only adds to the frenzied, chaotic mood. Do Capa’s
photographs have more drama and emotion because they portray the sacrifice, the struggle, and
15
the chaos t- the process as opposed to the aftermath? Is it what Capa captured or how he
captured it?
Several of Capa’s photographs evoke a sense of randomness due to the actual chaos of
combat and the blurred, unfocused appearance [Figures 2 and 3]. Capa somehow had to
concentrate on photographing the ongoing invasion while bullets zipped by, bombs and
grenades exploded, and bodies and shrapnel rained down from every direction. The blurriness
and lack of clarity only accentuates and adds to the turmoil. The images seem impulsive and
were, perhaps, simply a product of Capa being in the right spot at the right time. According to
Whelan, however, he was actually quite calculated with the photographs. He writes that Capa’s
“working process…demonstrates [that he] was adept at ferreting out a news story, distilling its
principal issues in a few direct but telling pictures, and orchestrating those images to an intense
human drama.”20 Although it is hard to deny that Capa was obviously meticulous and masterful
in creating poignant images, one must remember that he was fighting for his own survival
while simultaneously photographing soldiers trying to do the same.
In his autobiography, Capa describes a moment the Easy red section of Omaha beach
when he is trying to avoid the hail of bullets while also capturing images of the scene around
him:21
“Exhausted from the water and the fear, we lay flat on a small strip of wet sand
between the sea and the barbed wire. The slant of the beach gave us some protection, so
long as we lay flat, from the machine-gun and rifle bullets, but the tide pushed us
against the barbed wire, where the guns were enjoying open season…I took out my
20
21
Whelan, This is War, 6.
Easy Red was the Allies’ code name for the eastern section of Omaha Beach (a strip of the
Normandy coastline that was one of the designated poinst for the American part of the invasion.
16
second Contax camera and began to shoot without raising my head…From the air,
“Easy Red” must have looked like an open tin of sardines.”22
This quotation illustrates several important points, the first of which is just how perilous an
assignment this was for Capa. It is perhaps because of his willingness to gamble with his own
life to capture the best photographs that these scenes evoke such a range of emotions, from
sheer terror to great endurance. The viewer witnesses Capa’s own struggle during the invasion
through the soldiers in the images. The quotation also illustrates in Capa’s own words that
some of the published D-Day shots were taken at random without Capa actually looking
through the lens and crafting the shot. This is not to say that he took all of the photographs in
this method, as illustrated in the following quotation in which Capa describes the moment
before he jumps from the landing craft [Figure 2]: “The men from my barge waded in the
water. Waist-deep, with rifles ready to shoot, with the invasion obstacles and the smoking
beach in the background—this was good enough for the photographer. I paused for a moment
on the gangplank to take my first real picture of the invasion.”23 It is clear from this example
that Capa did take time (perhaps only a few seconds) to find and frame a shot in a particular
way. Throughout Capa’s time on the beach, there were moments of calculation amid the
overwhelming pandemonium.
The blurriness of Capa’s images is an integral aspect of the work. It was a darkroom
mistake that, in reality, contributes to the photographs’ compelling trait and iconicity. The
unusual characteristic gives the photographs movement, chaos and a sense of reality - one can
almost feel the vibration of bombs and grenades exploding, and the rush of the powerful water.
In several of the photographs it is nearly impossible to differentiate between figures and
22
23
Robert Capa, Slightly Out of Focus (New York: Henry Holt and Co., 1947), 147-148.
Ibid, 146.
17
objects. The imperfection and lack of clarity of the images do not take away from their ability
to communicate the events. The “blurred and grainy [images only reflected]...exactly the view
that the world had of the gritty battle for France…[these images, therefore,] were considered
the best of the invasion.”24 The haziness is key in the overall iconicity of the series because it
has become associated with Capa and the overall style of his work.
The D-Day series was published in LIFE magazine two weeks after the landings. Due
to their inclusion in the magazine, the photographs have an association with founder Henry
Luce and his ideology. They do, however, have another identity in addition to the one given by
Luce and LIFE, one with a less politically charged tone. In present times, they are closely
associated with the Second World War as evidence of the Greatest Generation’s achievements.
According to Robert Hariman and John Louis Lucaites, “[w]hatever the circumstances of their
dissemination…[iconic images] always seem to stand above the welter of news, debates,
decisions, and investigations. They have more than documentary value, for they bear witness to
something that exceeds words…they are sacred images for a secular society.”25 And indeed,
the D-Day photographs are not symbols of American territorialism or Manifest Destiny. On the
contrary, they speak of human fear, endurance, and sacrifice; and they speak of these emotions
and actions without the need for captions or explanations. Capa’s distinct style allows for his
photographs to stand on their own. As the next chapter will show, however, it is through their
placement in the prestigious LIFE magazine that these photographs began the journey to iconic
status.
24
25
Moeller, Shooting War, 199.
Hariman and Lucaites, No Caption Needed, 1-2.
18
Chapter 2: LIFE magazine
LIFE magazine functioned as a vehicle for Robert Capa’s photographs. The magazine’s
high circulation numbers provided Capa with an audience, while the editorial team imbued his
images with a particular agenda, remnants of which have held on well into the 21st century.
When Henry Luce founded the magazine in 1936, it was certainly not the first publication to
focus on photography as a way to report weekly national and international events. He was able,
however, to foresee the impact of a growing visual culture on society and channeled the
public’s desire for images into the magazine by highlighting the medium of photography.
LIFE’s focus on photography is significant in understanding how the magazine functioned. The
images in each issue were treated as though they were works of art, rather than conventional
visual news evidence. The chosen photographs were not only able to communicate the news
but do so in a visually stimulating and captivating manner. In this type of publication, Capa’s
images straddled between two identities, one of photojournalism and the other of art
photography.
The Luce Doctrine
Luce was very confident in his self-perceived role as a political force in the United
States. His newest magazine was a way for Luce to further infiltrate his pro-American ideals
into society; in other words, to him it “had a special—and essential—role to play in modern
America, preserving national unity.”26 During the years of American involvement in the
Second World War, the magazine’s circulation improved by 3 million subscribers.27 In 1943,
James L. Baughman, “Who Read Life? The Circulation of America’s Favorite Magazine,” in Looking
at Life Magazine, ed. Erika Doss (Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press, 2001), 42.
27
Ibid, 44.
26
19
the U.S. government eased up on its censorship of photographs from the war front, as the tide
turned and a German defeat was on the horizon.28 This meant that the editors were able to
procure more graphic and exhilarating images of the various battles. Because there were other
forms of news media far more popular than the weekly magazines, LIFE published exciting
photo-essays in order to compete with the likes of radio and newsreels. Furthermore, Luce and
his staff wanted to differentiate their magazine from the many other photo-based publications
through formatting, text, skilled photography, and high-quality card stock.29 This focus on
interior aesthetics gives the photographs an artistic edge over those shown in cheaper
publications. The images, therefore, come across as professional and meaningful, rather than
sensationalist.
For the February 17, 1941 issue of LIFE, Luce wrote and published the article “The
American Century.” In essence, this document, written prior to the U.S.’s involvement in the
war, was Luce’s declaration that the American way of life was the only way for the world to
successfully function in a new era. For Luce, the ultimate goal of the United States was to
spread American freedom and democracy around the globe, which would encourage the
existence of a better world. The article dramatically glorifies America’s position as the world’s
super power. Luce clearly wanted to convince his readers that the U.S. needed to get involved
in the war in order to protect the fundamental values of America. He wrote, “We are not in a
war to defend American territory. We are in a war to defend and even promote, encourage and
incite so-called democratic principles throughout the world.”30 He continued by boldly stating
that “the world of the twentieth century, if it is to come to life in any nobility of health and
Erika Doss, ed., “Looking at Life: Rethinking America’s Favorite Magazine, 1936-1972,” in Looking
at Life Magazine, 12.
29
Ibid, 4.
30
Henry Luce, “The American Century,” LIFE, 17 February 1941, 62.
28
20
vigor, must be to a significant degree an American Century.”31 This article makes it apparent
that Luce was advocating that the country participate in the war against the Fascist regime in
Germany, primarily in order to protect and spread American values. By the end of 1941, the
United States had declared war against Germany and Japan. Once the country became deeply
entrenched in the Atlantic and Pacific theaters, LIFE began to publish dramatic photo-essays of
the battles and events. The editorial team adapted their boss’s strong views in the opening texts
and image captions that formed part of the photo-essays. This integration of politics and media
had an air of propaganda - a pro-American tone. Luce, however, never concealed his strong
opinions, so the readers had to have been somewhat aware of the LIFE’s one-sided message.
Many of the subscribers presumably bought the magazine because they agreed with Luce’s
values.
The U.S. government, however, was wary of circulating certain photographs that would
give the public a negative and discouraging view of the war. Officials wanted to raise citizens’
spirits so that they would continue to support the men overseas. By creating a regulated system
of pool photographs, the government was able to focus the censorship on a small group of
photographers and their film. After choosing a selection of images, the government then
distributed them to national publications. At this time, LIFE was considered to have “iconic
presence and cultural prestige,” most likely stemming from its sophisticated formatting and
middle and upper class readership, and government officials were unquestionably aware of this
fact. 32 Because LIFE attracted such a large and educated audience, the staff was given
privileges and exceptions not afforded to those at competing publications. LIFE photographers,
for example, were given high priority on their travels to the front lines, everything from car
31
32
Ibid, 64.
Doss, “Looking at Life,” 3.
21
rides to accommodations. Andrew Heiskell, a general manager of LIFE, stated that, “the War
and Navy departments…recognized [LIFE] as a powerful instrument for public education
and…[went] out of their way to provide the editors with raw material such as no magazine has
ever had at its disposal.”33 The government and Luce had similar incentives in that they wanted
to improve support on the home front through the use of influential visual media, but their
reasoning behind it was quite different. The government was nervous about anti-war
sentiments and preferred not having certain photographs circulating that could have a negative
impact on morale. Images of dead Americans or soldiers in precarious situations could have led
people to question the meaning and logic behind the United States’ involvement. Government
officials, therefore, promoted images of victory, bravery, and glory.
LIFE, on the other hand, endorsed a different visual of the war. Luce and his editors
were keen on accurately portraying combat through photography. Their goal was to show the
terrifying nature of war by including harrowing photographs of soldiers struggling during a
battle, or even injured and dead men. This is quite similar to Capa, who photographed the most
dramatic and alarming scenes of combat. He took such photographs in an effort to get his
fellow citizens to demand an end to war.34 Luce, on the other hand, felt it was time people
came to the understanding that war was necessary to protect American values. He believed that
this kind of reverse propaganda of graphic imagery would impress upon people that the scale
of the war was enormous and everyone’s support was needed to win.35 In 1942, the editors
used a page of a November issue to state the magazine’s position and reason for publishing
graphic imagery of the war:
33
Moeller, Shooting War, 189.
Whelan, This is War, 6.
35
Moeller, Shooting War, 222.
34
22
LIFE serves as a force in creating a sound, practical psychological front in the common,
united effort to win this war and world-wide freedom…There are two ways to learn
about war…People who live where the war breathes hotly in their faces have an
intimate knowledge of what war means…We Americans…must get our inspiration to
work and sacrifice through facts we read and hear…In the regular course of its factreporting of the world, LIFE shows its readers in vivid picture-story form what this war
looks like, feels like, and does to people.36
This statement, however, is highly problematic because while Luce aimed to foster the global
expansion of American values and ideals, his photo-essays illustrated the result of having such
a mindset—horrific battles with enormous casualties. But for Luce the end seemed to justify
the means. If America was to prosper as the great world power its citizens had to be willing to
sacrifice and to accept and confront that sacrifice. In “The American Century” he wrote, “If
we are in a war, than it is no little advantage to be aware of the fact. And once we admit to
ourselves we are in a war, there is no shadow of doubt that we Americans will be determined to
win it -- cost what it may in life or treasure.”37
The Power of Arrangement
In many ways, Robert Capa’s D-Day photographs worked well with Luce’s convictions
because they acknowledge the sacrifice by placing the chaos of war front and center, forcing
the reader to grapple with the frightening realities of combat. The images also illustrate what
the editorial team highlighted in its statement, as they give the LIFE reader a sense of what the
D-Day invasion “looks like [and] feels like” through the atmospheric blurriness and certain
36
37
Ibid, 222.
Luce, “The American Century,” 62.
23
details (despite the lack of overall clarity), like the foaming water, the jagged wooden obstacles
violently jutting into the sky, and the focused expression of a soldier swimming ashore
[Figures 8-10]. Luce and the editors used the “vivid picture-story form” to heighten the
photographs’ effects on the readers. The D-Day invasion was not simply a news event to relay,
but a dramatic story to retell through pictures and words. From viewing the six-image photoessay, the reader can assemble a basic understanding of what soldiers saw through the
expressive photographs and accompanying captions. The photographs greatly enhance the
textual information as they provide visual for the descriptions.
Capa’s images are able affect their audience emotionally, not only through their
aesthetic qualities but also because of their arrangement within the photo-essays [Figures 810]. Susan Moeller argues that “[p]icture stories and picture sequences developed themes with
the resulting product often being greater than the individual parts…Photomagazines [therefore]
initiated a new respect for the photograph.”38 LIFE magazine put the emphasis on the
photographs rather than the text by using large half and quarter page images and a small font
size. At times, these captions were used as a way to manage a particular message; but more
often than not, they functioned as accessories to the photographs and had a small effect on the
viewer. The photographs were the focus of these articles and “made an impact on the strength
of their imagery.”39 The beginning of the photo-essay, for example, features a large photograph
that takes up nearly three-quarters of the page [Figure 8]. Although the title is in bold capital
letters, it is dwarfed by the image above. The fact that the photograph is on the top half of the
page is significant because the placement illustrates LIFE’s hierarchy of image over text. If the
photograph had been beneath the heading and introduction the text would have been the
38
39
Moeller, Shooting War, 219.
Ibid, 217.
24
primary focus and the photograph secondary. The double-page spread following the opener
also illustrates this idea. In this case the text is placed in a small space in between the four
photographs and nearly disappears, thereby making it clear that the editors wanted the reader to
focus on the photographs, not the brief trivial descriptions.
Erika Doss argues that much of the criticism aimed at LIFE was based on a fear of
reverting to an archaic culture where the attention was on pictures rather than text. These
critics were quite naïve, because “[b]y…1936, national and global ‘news’ was fundamentally
visual, a fact that Luce and Life’s editors…were eager to exploit.”40 What these critics seemed
to have forgotten was the overwhelming power of imagery. Luce wanted his readers to
understand what the soldiers were facing, so that they would have a greater appreciation for
their sacrifice and get fully behind the war effort. An essay describing the helter-skelter
journey from the landing crafts to the beaches, the pelting rain and the rising tides, and the
littering of obstacles, would not have had the same emotional power as Capa’s photographs.
The visual evidence, in this case, is superior to the written document. Text did play a role in
this photo-essay by providing context and details, but it was not necessary in order to fully
comprehend the meaning behind the photographs.
In the D-Day photo-essay, a short introduction in the beginning gives way to four pages
of half and full page photographs with small one to two sentence captions. While the
photographs are certainly the main focus, it is important to note that the textual element is key
in understanding the editorial decisions made on the arrangement of Capa’s photographs. The
opening page of the article features an image with several paragraphs explaining the basic
strategies of Operation Overlord and introducing Capa as the photographer [Figure 8]. The
editors made no attempt at hiding their decision to show the brutalities of the invasion, at one
40
Doss, “Looking at Life,” 15.
25
point stating that Capa’s “best pictures were made when he photographed the floundering
American doughboys advancing through the deadly hail of enemy fire to goals on the beaches
of Normandy”41 [Figure 11]. Luce was not shy about publishing photographs of American
soldiers in weak and defenseless positions, as seen in the four photographs following the
opening page. These images are dramatic and terrifying in comparison to the rather subdued
first image. Richard Whelan argues that “[t]he intense drama of Capa’s four great images is
effectively heightened by that element of surprise. This spread is certainly one of the most
powerful layouts of war photographs ever published.”42 LIFE used a linear organization for the
photo-essays that essentially featured “an exposition, a climax, and a dénouement”43 [Figures
8-10]. There is a theatrical aspect to the photo-essay’s format that allows the viewer to relive
the events frame by frame. While each of the photographs are powerful on its own, they come
alive as a group. The four central images act as movie stills, each frame functioning as a
specific scene. The viewer is given enough background information through the introductory
text and captions to get a sense of the events, but is essentially left to his or her own
imagination to recreate each scene. In some respect, the use of the imagination adds even more
power to the photographs.
Even though the photographs are not given definitive titles, the first several words of
each caption are in bold and effectively function as descriptive labels. Two of the captions
begin with “The first wave…” or “Men in the second wave…,” which are not nearly as
dramatic or as exciting as the images they accompany; while the other two captions feature
vivid verbs, such as “Troops crouch…” and “Crawling through the water…,” that accurately
“On the Beachheads of Normandy,” LIFE, 19 June, 1944, 25.
Whelan, This is War, 249.
43
Ibid, 248.
41
42
26
reflect the actions in the photographs [Figures 12-15].44 The captions have just enough
information for the viewer to identify the objects and figures, which is necessary in the case of
the blurred, unfocused images [Figure 9]. In the overall format, the captions are quite small and
almost disappear in between the large, action-filled photographs. Capa usually sent
descriptions of each image along with the film to the magazine, and these descriptions would
be included in the published captions. In this photo-essay, however, Dennis Flanagan, the
assistant associate editor at LIFE, wrote all of the captions by “depend[ing] on the New York
Times for background information, and for specifics…[in] interpret[ing] what he saw in the
photographs.”45 The captions for the four central images mostly function as brief descriptions
of the events in each scene. For the reader’s sake, the editors occasionally added to the caption
to explain a perceived error or inadequate image. In the top right photograph, for example, the
caption indicates that the blurriness originated from the “[i]mmense excitement of [the]
moment [which] made Capa move his camera”46 [Figure 14]. Based on what other sources
have said, this statement is incorrect. The blurriness was, in fact, due to a processing error in
the dark room, not from Capa shaking his camera.47 Whereas LIFE tried to ameliorate the
image through an explanation, Moeller argues that the blurriness is actually a positive error
because it gives the piece an “aesthetic power.”48 Although Luce and his editors tried to show
the truth of battle through their use of these images, there are elements of fabrication and
deception in their aspiration to create the perfect photo-essay. To admit to the darkroom error
would have portrayed the LIFE photo staff as incompetent and potentially pulled readers’
attention away from the photographs.
“On the Beachheads of Normandy,” 26-27.
Whelan, This is War, 248.
46
“On the Beachheads of Normandy,” 27.
47
Moeller, Shooting War, 199.
48
Ibid, 199.
44
45
27
For Luce, LIFE was a photographically driven medium through which to disseminate
his strong political views. Executive Editor Wilson Hicks described the editorial process as
highly focused on the images’ message. He wrote, “[h]aving determined the story he wishes to
tell, the editor selects those pictures which relate themselves most readily and effectively to
other pictures in developing the story’s theme or advancing its action…In addition to
answering the question, ‘Does the picture say what it is intended to say?’ the editor
asks…another question, ‘Does it say what I want it to say?’”49 Capa’s experience of D-Day
does, indeed, come through in his photographs, but LIFE slightly alters the images’ message
through the captions and text in order to adapt them to the Luce doctrine. Capa believed that
“war was an illegitimate solution used by dictatorial powers. He despised war and hoped
through his images to mobilize others to fight against it.”50 In contrast, LIFE’s objective was to
show the soldiers’ enormous sacrifice to bolster citizen support on the home front, not to bring
an end to the very idea of war. In other words, Luce and his staff gave Capa’s photographs a
more political tone and pushed them towards propaganda. It is important to note, however, that
even though LIFE did sometimes occasionally stretch the truth in their captions, they refused to
retouch the photographs. In addition, based on studying the original prints [Figures 2-5] and
the published versions [Figure 9] it appears that none of the photographs were cropped or
resized in any way. Hicks wrote that “if the photograph as information was to be worth-while
at all, it should transmit the world of appearance to the reader in the purest form possible.”51
The LIFE staff clearly had respect for photography and its ability to affect the readership in
powerful ways, and wanted to provide the reader with accurate visual evidence.
49
Wilson Hicks, Words and Pictures: an Introduction to Photojournalism (New York: Harper,
1952), 60.
50
Whelan, This is War, 6.
51
Hicks, Words and Pictures, 42.
28
LIFE provided a platform and a large audience for Capa’s photographs, but it did not
only function as the dissemination vehicle. LIFE gave the photographs a meaning specific to
their role in the magazine. When Capa sent the film roll to London after the invasion was over,
he lost control over how his photographs would be used; and, because he was one of eighteen
photographers in the American Picture Pool, his images could be published in other national
magazines. In essence, “once the photographer had made his or her absolutely crucial (and
often deeply personal) contribution to the job, the editors took over.”52 Capa’s photographs
became associated with LIFE and its ideology once they were published in its pages. LIFE
circulated the images as evidence that peace and a world based on American values demands
hardship, struggle, and fatalities.
52
Moeller, Shooting War, 218.
29
Chapter 3: Spielberg’s D-Day
Within ten minutes the audience of Saving Private Ryan is thrown onto speeding
landing crafts, placed among the American troops headed to the beaches of Normandy.
Nervous glances are traded between men. Some vomit, while others take sips from canteens
and say last minute prayers. Platoon and company leaders remind their men of the plans. The
only sounds are the roaring engines and wind as it sprays salt water up and over the vessels.
As the first landing craft brings down the ramp, German machine guns perched above on the
bluff release a steady stream of bullets, killing every man on board. The camera switches
angles, changing the viewpoint from the invading Americans to that of the waiting Germans.
Soon boat upon boat upon boat is unloading soldiers. Men struggle with their heavy equipment
as they run into the dark Channel waters - many drown or are shot as they move in the water.
The quiet French beach becomes a killing field as men explode, catch on fire, and are riddled
with bullets. Screams of pain and agony can be heard above the roar of the fighting. Bodies and
limbs are strewn across the sand. A soldier walks by the camera searching for his missing right
arm among the dead and debris. This is the second part to the opening scene of Steven
Spielberg’s 1998 film. Prior to the invasion, the audience is introduced to an elderly white man
who hobbles toward a sea of white crosses. After wandering amid the markers, he crumbles to
a heap before one cross, sobbing as his confused family watches. The nightmarish landing is a
startling contrast to the peaceful and cerebral scene of fifty years later. Albert Auster describes
Spielberg’s recreation as “twenty-five Goyaesque minutes of war horrors.”53 The scene is
unequivocally horrific and terrifying. Auster’s reference to Goya leads one to recall his
nightmarish, carnage-filled macabre painting Saturn Devouring One of His Sons (1821-1823),
53
Albert Auster, “Saving Private Ryan and American Triumphalism.” Journal of Popular Film &
Television, Vol. 30, Issue 2, (Summer 2002), 101.
30
with its stark crimson colored blood and stubs of shredded flesh—a two dimensional, 19th
century version of Spielberg’s depiction of D-Day. Once the majority of the men are on the
beach, the camera is then embedded among the soldiers, placing the audience in the role of an
American soldier. This is partly how Spielberg is able to achieve such an unparalleled sense of
realism. The viewer is not only witnessing, but also participating in the battle.
The “good war” status of World War II was not achieved by the several wars that
followed in the 20th and 21st centuries. In general, it seems that when discussing or debating
about American wars, “Vietnam and now Iraq [and Afghanistan] produce substantial
dissonance and disjointedness; the American role in World War II does not.”54 It was certainly
not an easy war and hundreds of thousands of American soldiers were killed in the four years
the United States was involved. But the soldiers of the Second World War are honored with
grand monuments, movies, and books that chronicle their service. The men of the Greatest
Generation are perceived as having fought to protect American freedom and values, while their
families and fellow citizens back home sacrificed in support of the war effort. To 21st century
Americans, World War II appears to have had a clearly defined goal, plan, and outcome: to
defeat the Nazis and Japanese while protecting liberty and democracy. Robert Capa’s D-Day
photographs are eyewitness accounts of one particular battle that, in many ways, is seen as the
iconic battle of the war. His images have been both directly and indirectly influential to the
film industry and Steven Spielberg, in particular. Not only did Capa lead the way in terms of
combat photographer conduct, but also with his innovative and expressive style.
From beginning to end, the Second World War was filled with battle after battle after
battle. There was certainly no shortage of harrowing confrontations and invasions. Yet, D-Day
has evolved into a battle with 40th, 50th, and 60th anniversary celebrations. In Saving Private
54
Marianna Torgovnick, The War Complex, 24.
31
Ryan, Spielberg devoted nearly thirty minutes of screen time to the landing. The movie begins
and ends in Normandy, clearly illustrating the site as a defining location and D-Day as a crucial
battle. This emphasis on D-Day is a result of the modern mindset, because while it was
definitely a fundamental blow to the Nazis, the invasion “was [only] perceived of and called
the opening of a European Second Front.”55 It was a significant moment for the United States
and its allies, but it did not have such a grandiose and symbolic identity. It is really only in the
past two or three decades that the battle has become the “chosen symbol of U.S. glory.”56
During this timeframe, the United States became more involved in foreign conflicts that had
unclear enemies, strategies, plans, and conclusions, such as the Vietnam War and the Iraq War.
People looked for a time in American history when there was a defined objective, a clear
opponent, and the country was united (even if superficially so). For modern educated
Americans, “World War II has become…that mythic, edenic moment when the entire nation
bent itself to victory over evil and barbarism.”57
Capa’s photographs have a different function and tone in the 1990s and 2000s than they
did in 1944. As the 21st century viewer is most likely one or two generations removed from the
actual event, some of the raw emotion and immediacy is lost. The viewer looks at the
photographs as historical documents rather than current news. While the fear and terror seen in
the photographs are still evident today, the work has a more nostalgic tone, where in we honor
the soldiers of a bygone era. In addition to honoring these men, the interest in D-Day has also
been focused toward future wars. In 2003, President George W. Bush used World War II and
D-Day as examples of American might in the battle against hostile nations and terrorist groups.
He did not use D-Day as a deterrent of going to war, but rather alluded to it as a way to make
55
Ibid, 24.
Ibid, 25.
57
Auster, “Saving Private Ryan and American Triumphalism,” 104.
56
32
the impending invasion of Iraq seem like a necessity. His State of the Union “speec[h] [in
particular] …showed how the memory of World War II [and D-Day] can be used not just to
honor veterans…but also to support current and future wars.”58 There was an attempt to
connect 21st century America with that of World War II America, and curiosity in Capa’s
photographs was most likely ignited by this increasing interest and reflection in the era.
Spielberg based his interpretation of D-Day on these photographs and was especially
“struck by the blurred, distorted images of the soldiers close to shore, a result, he thought, of
Capa’s agitation and movement under fire”59 [Figures 2 and 3]. The similarity is uncanny at
some points throughout the scene. Several of the film shots seem to be pulled directly from
Capa’s series with similar views of the soldiers’ as they rush ashore amid obstacles, bodies,
and debris [Figures 2 and 16, Figures 4 and 17]. Although the film is in color and has
astonishing realism, Capa’s photographs remain startling in comparison. There is something
quite haunting and ghost-like about the blurry, monochromatic figures, seeming as though they
will disappear into the haze at any moment. Although the blurriness adds a cinematic sense of
movement to the images, it is the film depiction that allows the viewer to witness and
experience the landing in a manner that Capa’s still photographs cannot—through sight and
sound. The camera shakes and moves violently around the beach as bombs and grenades
explode and bullets pierce the air. There is no accompanying music—the only sounds are of
screaming and shouting, explosions and gunfire. The overall color of the scene is a faded and
cold blue-green, which contrasts the bright red blood that pools on the beach. At one point, a
combination of blood and water splashes onto the camera lens, putting the viewer in the
58
59
Torgovnick, The War Complex, x.
Toby Haggith, “Realism, Historical Truth and the War Film: The Case of Saving Private Ryan”
in Repicturing the Second World War: Representation in Film and Television (New York:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), 181.
33
position of the combat photographer or cinematographer. This detail also illustrates Spielberg’s
acknowledgment of the camera’s presence - the viewer is part of the scene, not simply a
witness. The cinematic representation forces the viewer to hear and feel the vibrations;
whereas, with the photographs the viewer must imagine the sounds and sensations of battle. In
some instances, the latter is more powerful because the viewer is mentally creating the scene,
rather than a film director dictating his interpretation.
Scholars have debated over whether Spielberg and Capa glamorized the war in their
respective film and photographs. Capa took his photographs to show the hellish nature of war
and Spielberg did the same with cinema. The latter stated that he did not want to glamorize the
landing but rather he wanted to honor the men by creating a realistic film to show 1998
America what World War II looked like, felt like, and sounded like.60 Albert Auster writes that
“it is more realistic to see the [invasion] scen[e] as anti-death than as anti-war…[because]
Spielberg shows the murderous, random nature of death in battle.”61 Auster insinuates that
while Spielberg portrayed the gruesome nature of killing and being killed, he did glorify the
war through the patriotic and heroic tone of the film. Nevertheless, Capa and Spielberg wanted
to show the soldiers as self-sacrificing and honorable, not the war they fought. Both men
brought an element of humanity to a horrifically violent event. Each version is filled with great
emotion but expresses it in a different way. The film scene moves fast, shifting from the
landing to the beach to the dying and then to the men pushing deep into the dunes and bluffs
above the beach. There is absolute chaos and confusion making it difficult for the viewer to
focus on a single group of men. With the still photographs, however, the viewer is truly able to
delve into the frame and consider all of the elements and emotions. Sontag writes that
60
Saving Private Ryan, DVD, directed by Steven Spielberg (1998; Universal City, CA: Paramount
Pictures, 2004), Special Features.
61
Auster, “Saving Private Ryan and American Triumphalism,”101.
34
“[t]elevision [and film are] stream[s] of underselected images, each of which cancels its
predecessor [whereas] each still photograph is a privileged moment, turned into a slim object
that one can keep and look at again.”62 The silence of the photographs can be just as, if not
more, powerful than the film’s soundtrack because it allows the viewer to create a relationship
with the soldiers. The photograph positions the viewer as more than a consumer, because there
is a large element of involvement.
There is no question that Saving Private Ryan realistically captures the invasion, but
the movie advances to Captain John Miller’s mission as he moves deeper into France to find
the missing Private Ryan. The audience is forced to contend with the nightmarish landing for
only a small portion of the film, as Miller is among the men that overcome the German guns
and make it safely up to the bluffs. With Capa’s photographs there is a lack of resolution - the
men taking cover behind the obstacle remain there, their futures forever undetermined [Figure
5]. There is a haunting aspect to this lack of resolution because the men in the images are
trapped in a liminal space, neither alive nor dead; they never turn their heads or move farther
into the picture plane. In Saving Private Ryan, on the other hand, there is a conclusion to the
invasion and a brief period of peace as the soldiers regroup and assess their assignments.
Although the photo-essay as a whole offers a quiet ending with the final three photographs
taken from the landing craft [Figure 10], there is still no answer as to the fates of the depicted
soldiers. The audience gets to know Captain Miller intimately as the camera follows him from
the landing craft to the beach and up to the cliffs; the audience, therefore, is invested in him
and the outcome. In the same way, LIFE readers view intimate close-ups of the soldiers,
whether behind obstacles [Figure 5] or swimming ashore [Figure 3]. The text, however, does
not indicate whether these men ever made it to the end goal alive. This lack of finality is quite
62
Susan Sontag, On Photography, 18.
35
unsettling for the viewer, as the D-Day invasion appears to continue indefinitely in the
photographs.
Is the resolution after the opening scene an idealized or glamorized representation of DDay? It is important to remember that Saving Private Ryan features a fictional story with
fabricated characters in a historical event. As such, Spielberg was able to take some liberties in
how he portrayed aspects of D-Day. The question of whether his directorial direction is
glamorizing or idealizing the invasion is problematic. Does honoring American soldiers equate
to glamorizing war? Does patriotism lead to idealization? Spielberg stated, “My dad always
explained to me how unglamorous war was and I never forgot that…war wasn’t glamorous to
me….”63 His negative view of war comes through in the film’s melancholic tone, as Captain
Miller’s men frequently contemplate whether any of the death and suffering is worth winning.
In a review of Saving Private Ryan, John Bodnar questions Spielberg’s theme of “war is
hell.”64 Bodnar suggests that the film essentially reverts back to a 1940’s era notion of the
importance of country over the individual citizen - the men were fighting for their country not
for themselves. He writes that “[t]he entire narrative…is immensely ‘reverent’ toward the
nation and its warriors, attempting to uphold its patriotic architecture with opening and closing
scenes at an American military cemetery in Europe.”65 Bodnar considers the film’s reverence
and patriotism to be a negative attribute, a step backwards to the archaic relationship of a
nation and its citizens. It is debatable whether the film focuses merely on national reverence,
especially given that the opening scene to which Bodnar refers is filled with a heart-wrenching
sadness focused on the individual, the citizen. Spielberg largely devotes the film’s beginning
63
Saving Private Ryan, Special Features.
Ibid.
65
John Bodnar, “Saving Private Ryan and Postwar Memory in America,” The American
Historical Review 106, no. 3 (June, 2001), 806.
64
36
and end to one man, Private John Francis Ryan. At the end of the film, the elderly Ryan asks
his wife: “Tell me I have led a good life. Tell me I’m a good man.”66 Ryan does not seem to
only be concerned about the country’s image or strength, but is also focused on if he lived a
decent life in honor of Captain Miller and his fellow soldiers. Spielberg essentially shines a
spotlight on the idea of “ordinary men bec[oming] a band of brothers.”67 Capa and Spielberg
illustrate the human element of war through their respective media. The film and the
photographs do not feature America as the main subject, but rather the individual men. Capa
captured the soldiers in such a way that even through the unfocused haze, the viewer can pick
out details of their bodies, their uniforms, and equipment. Spielberg also dedicated a great deal
of the movie to humanizing the main group of characters by having them share touching
childhood and family stories, and moments of humor and charm. In both the photographs and
Saving Private Ryan, the soldiers depicted become more than simply generic, abstract symbols
of America.
Bodnar, however, would disagree. He reinforces his argument of glorification by
bringing in the notion of romanticism. He writes that “because the Spielberg film attempts to
preserve the memory of patriotic sacrifice…it is more about restoring a romantic version of
common-man heroism in an age of moral ambivalence than about ending the problem of
devastating wars.”68 He is correct in that the movie does explore the notion of heroism in
relation to the ordinary man. One could also apply this to Capa’s work in that his photographs
have such expression and drama that they only lend strength to the romantic and idealized
notion of war- a sacred moment in which men brave the sea and the rain, the explosions and
bullets in order to defeat the enemy. Capa essentially served along side the men he
66
Saving Private Ryan.
Auster, “Saving Private Ryan and American Triumphalism,” 103.
68
Bodnar, “Saving Private Ryan and Postwar Memory in America,” 817.
67
37
photographed, and perhaps unconsciously he did want to honor their sacrifice and heroism in
an emotional and expressive manner. Honoring soldiers’ sacrifices in the service of their
country or depicting ordinary heroism does not, however, detract from the horrific nature of
war. The act of honoring does not directly glorify or glamorize the violence. Bodnar seems to
ignore the fact that Captain Miller loses half his men in the landing and nearly his entire troop
during their mission, and is eventually killed. Miller and his men are not portrayed as romantic
superheroes impervious to the enemy. Instead, Spielberg explores the psychological toll the
war has taken on the soldiers. After a particularly tense moment, Captain Miller says to one
soldier “…just know that [with] every man I kill, the farther away from home I feel.”69 There
is also nothing romantic about the opening scene—a scene in which Captain Miller pauses for
several seconds and sees men crying as they shield themselves behind obstacles, injured and
maimed men scream in agony, and men shot down right and left. The scene is horrific from
beginning to end. In this film, war is not depicted as romantic; instead, the men are portrayed
as ordinary men in the middle of extraordinary circumstances.
It was in the 1980s and 1990s when interest in World War II really began to take hold,
especially with regards to D-Day. In 1984, President Ronald Reagan gave a speech in
Normandy marking the 40th anniversary of the landings. It was a speech about patriotism,
sacrifice, and heroism. He declared:
We’re here to mark that day in history when the Allied armies join in battle to reclaim
this continent to liberty…Here, the Allies stood and fought against tyranny, in a giant
undertaking unparalleled in human history…These are the boys of Pointe du Hoc.
These are the men who took the cliffs. These are the champions who helped free a
continent. These are the heroes who helped end a war…Strengthened by their courage,
69
Saving Private Ryan.
38
heartened by their valor and borne by their memory, let us continue to stand for the
ideals for which they lived and died.70
This speech gives D-Day greater meaning by using strong words, like champions, heroes,
courage, and valor. The invasion became more than simply the opening of the second front, but
a symbol of American triumph over adversity, of liberty over tyranny—a meaning that remains
to this day in films like Saving Private Ryan.
Spielberg’s use of Capa’s photographs as inspiration for the D-Day scene has
effectively launched them into the 21st century as icons of war photography. He illustrates
through Saving Private Ryan that Capa’s values are just as significant and applicable now as
they were in 1944—war and combat are neither glamorous nor romantic. While he has stated
that it was his intent to honor the soldiers who fought at Normandy, it seems that Spielberg
also used the film to make a comment on war and question its use, just as Capa did through his
photographs. In an era that has witnessed the onset of robotic wars fought in distant desert
lands, Capa’s monochrome photographs of men in combat may not, at first, seem very
pertinent. It is the striking and frightening nature of these images, however, that will continue
to remind viewers of the human element of war.
70
Ronald Reagan, "The Boys of Pointe du Hoc," speech presented at 40th Anniversary of D-Day,
Normandy, France, June 6, 1984, Real Clear Politics, accessed February 22, 2013,
http://www.realclearpolitics.com.
39
Conclusion
Ultimately, the power of the D-Day series lies in their timelessness. Despite the passing
decades and ever evolving strategies of war, the iconic photographs continue to educate and
shape people’s perspectives on the ugly realities of war. They portray neither triumph nor
celebration, neither glory nor victory; but rather, they show alarming scenes of pure survival in
the face of hell. The photographs were taken by Capa with an anti-war sentiment, used in LIFE
for propaganda purposes, and inspired scenes for a 1998 movie in honor of men who fought in
the war. They communicate the indescribable, terrifying nature of war and give civilians an
understanding of what engaging in combat truly means. As Jorge Lewinksy writes in his book
The Camera at War, “it is through the actions of one photographer with a [camera]…that the
rest of us come to see and understand the actions of those who wage and those who suffer war,
and thus to understand the nature of warfare itself.”71 Through Capa’s amateur, non-traditional
style; the prestigious and widely-seen platform of LIFE; and Spielberg’s epic film Saving
Private Ryan, the D-Day series has become an iconic and culturally significant representation
of one of the most well-known battles in the 20th century.
71
Jorge Lewinksy, The Camera at War (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1978), 23.
40
Illustrations
Figure 1. Joe Rosenthal, 1945, Associated Press
41
Figure 2. Robert Capa, 1944, LIFE
42
Figure 3. Robert Capa, 1944, LIFE
43
Figure 4. Robert Capa, 1944, LIFE
44
Figure 5. Robert Capa, 1944, LIFE
45
Figure 6. Peter J. Carroll, 1944, Associated Press
46
Figure 7. Bert Brandt, 1944, ACME
47
Figure 8. Introduction to “On the Beachheads of Normandy,” LIFE magazine, June 19, 1944
48
Figure 9. “On the Beachheads of Normandy,” LIFE magazine, June 19, 1944
49
Figure 10. “On the Beachheads of Normandy,” LIFE magazine, June 19, 1944
50
Figure 11. Section of opening statement for “On the Beachheads of Normandy”
51
Figure 12. Caption, “On the Beachheads of Normandy,” [see Fig. 2 for corresponding image]
Figure 13. Caption, “On the Beachheads of Normandy,” [see Fig. 4 for corresponding image]
52
Figure 14. Caption, “On the Beachheads of Normandy,” [see Fig. 3 for corresponding image]
Figure 15. Caption, “On the Beachheads of Normandy,” [see Fig. 5 for corresponding image]
53
Figure 16. Saving Private Ryan, Steven Spielberg, 1998
54
Figure 17. Saving Private Ryan, Steven Spielberg, 1998
55
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