Description: Like a lot of people, I wondered why a place billed as the nation’s WWII museum would be in New Orleans, instead of DC. The street name suggests that the answer is Andrew Higgins, whose Higgins Boat Company morphed from provider of flat bottomed, shallow draft boats for chasing fish and oil in the bayous to flat bottomed, shallow draft boats that carried soldiers, jeeps and tanks ashore at Normandy, Sicily, and Guadalcanal. No less a personage than Eisenhower claimed that ‘Higgins won the war for us.’

But the real reason is Stephen Ambrose, historian and personality, America’s ‘Uncle History’. He was the founding father of this museum, and love him or hate him, the end result is a worthy one. Ambrose ended his career here in New Orleans, first as Professor of American History at University of New Orleans, and after retirement, as director of the Eisenhower Center and an entire publishing conglomerate unto himself.

This museum opened in 2000, and although it’s titled as a WWII museum, the real focus is on D-Day. It’s housed in two buildings: a reclaimed warehouse in the (duh) Warehouse district, and the new Solomon Victory Theatre just across the street. It’s a mile and a half down Royal/Magazine Streets from Jackson Square, just a few blocks from the Ponchatrain Expressway. You really have to be headed here, because there’s really not much else in this area. It is somewhat near the monstrous convention center, whose midpoint is about five blocks east towards the river. (Deanie’s Restaurant is just around the corner, and is worth a pre- or post-trip visit. We did both.)

The entrance is off the south side of the museum on the renamed Andrew Higgins Drive. The western side of the museum is high ceilinged, with plane and other vehicles occupying those who are waiting for tickets. The exhibits begin up the stairs, setting the stage for the conflict, and emphasizing how, leading up to the war, America trailed the European powers in every measure of military strength. (Of course, we weren’t part of a continent that had been wracked by conflict for the last four or more centuries.)

This would be a good exhibit on its own, but it’s really there to set the stage for the presentation of the D-Day invasion. The whole installation employs artifacts, visuals, movie reels, interviews with veterans, civilians and other participants to document just how extensive and complete America’s commitment was after Pearl Harbor brought us into the War. I’m more than a passing student of these years, and I learned things at nearly every station. Everything was worth the time I spent, and I quickly realized that I wasn’t going to make it though all the galleries in the half-day we’d allocated to this visit. (And it wasn’t just me—my youngest daughter, a high-school junior, was moving at my pace, while the other three were probably driven more by their growling stomachs than lack of interest).

The highlight for me was a small set of photographs by famed war photographer Robert Capa, who went ashore with American troops at Omaha Beach. As the troops exited one of the LSTs, an NCO mistook him for a soldier, and kicked him in the pants—and Capa charged forward into the fighting, shooting just over 100 images before coming to his senses and returning to one of the landing craft. Shaken, he eventually was evacuated back to England, where a technician accidentally destroyed all but 11 of the negatives. Those few remaining shots of the German defenses, the troops in the water and on the sand, brought home the true nature of that experience in a new way.

I’d take that small set over the new theatre and its one show, ‘Beyond All Boundaries’, billed as a ‘4-D presentation’. It feels much like a Disney experience, with a seven-minute, Tom Hanks narrated pre-show introduction in the lobby before you file into the 300-seat theatre. I won’t give away the details (although the flyers tell all), but this wide screen presentation aims to tell the American WWII experience in 40 minutes of full sensory experience. Given the limitations, it’s not a bad effort and I was glad I went, but found it just a little gimmicky. We followed the advice of one of the docents, who said to sit high up and in the middle. He was right.

Like a lot of museums, this one has a full staff of such committed volunteers. The most touching moment for me came as I looked at a small side exhibit describing the service of a young enlisted man to one of the post-invasion generals, and a kind and generous letter that documented the general’s appreciation for the sergeant’s service. As I turned to continue, a red-vested docent was seated near me, and we struck up a conversation. I saw that this gentleman's badge shared the same name with that sergeant, and he modestly nodded when I asked him if he was the soldier described in the previous display. I thanked him for his service, and went through the rest of the D-Day exhibit feeling just a little different.

detailsAdmission to the museum is $18, ($14 for seniors) and drops to $9 for kids, students, and military. Veterans are, appropriately, free. A combination ticket that includes the show in the Solomon Victory Theatre adds another $5, $4, or $3 respectively (on its own, the movie is a rather steep $10). You can also add on a second day at the museum for $5, which I could have used.
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