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Together, the combined ages of the bride and groom were nearly 200. But World War II veteran Harold Terence and his sweetheart, Jeanne Swerlin, proved that love is eternal when they tied the knot Saturday inland on the D-Day beaches of Normandy. France.
Their respective ages – he’s 100, she’s 96 – made their wedding a nearly two-century celebration.
Terence called it “the best day of my life.”
On her way to the wedding, the gorgeous bride-to-be said: ‘It’s not just for young people, love, you know? We get butterflies. And we get some action too.
The site was Carentan’s elegant stonework town hall, a key initial D-Day objective that saw fierce fighting after the June 6, 1944, Allied landings that helped liberate Europe of the tyranny of Adolf Hitler.
Like other towns and villages along the Normandy coast, where nearly 160,000 Allied troops came ashore under fire on five code-named beaches, it is a seething center of commemoration and celebration on the 80th anniversary of that day, decorated with flags and bunting and honoring veterans like rock stars.
As Glenn Miller’s swing and other tunes of the era rang through the streets, well-wishers – some in World War II-era clothing – were lined up a good hour before the wedding, behind barriers outside City Hall, with a rousing trumpet and drum band to serenade the the happy couple.
After they both said “oui” to vows read by the mayor of Carentan in English, the couple exchanged rings.
“With this ring I marry you,” said Terence.
She giggled and gasped, “Really?”
Champagne flutes in hand, they waved through the open window to the adoring crowds outside.
“Hello everyone. And for world peace and the preservation of democracy around the world and an end to the war in Ukraine and Gaza,” Terence said as he and his bride clinked glasses and drank.
The crowd shouted “La mariée!” – “The bride!” – to Sverlin, who was wearing a long flowing dress in hot pink. Terence looked dapper in a light blue suit and a matching pink handkerchief in his breast pocket.
They enjoyed a very special party on their wedding night: they were invited to a state dinner at the Elysee Palace on Saturday night with President Emmanuel Macron and US President Joe Biden.
“Congratulations to the newlyweds,” Macron said to cheers and applause from other guests during a toast praising Franco-American friendship. “[The town of] Carentan was happy to host your wedding and we, your wedding dinner,” he told the couple.
The wedding was symbolic, without legal binding force. Mayor Jean-Pierre L’Honer’s office said he is not authorized to marry foreigners who are not residents of Carentan and that the couple, who are both Americans, had not requested legally binding vows. However, they can always complete these formalities in reverse Florida if they wish.
L’Honneur likes to say that Normandy is practically the 51st US state, given his reverence and gratitude for the Allied soldiers and the sacrifices of the tens of thousands who never made it home from the Battle of Normandy.
“Love is eternal, yes, maybe,” the mayor said, speaking of the newlyweds, though his comments aptly described the feelings of many Normandy veterans.
“I hope for them the best of happiness together.”
Dressed in a 1940s dress that belonged to her mother Louise and a red beret, Jane Olyer, 73, was among the onlookers waiting to catch a glimpse of the lovebirds.
“It’s so touching to get married at this age,” Ollier said. “If it can bring them happiness in the last years of their lives, that’s fantastic.”
The couple, both widowed, grew up in New York: she in Brooklyn, he in the Bronx. Terens first visited France as a 20-year-old corporal in the US Army Air Forces shortly after D-Day. He enlisted in 1942 and, after posting to Britain, was attached to a four-pilot P-47 Thunderbolt fighter unit as their repair technician radio stations.
On D-Day, Terens helped repair aircraft returning from France so they could rejoin the fight. He said half his company’s pilots died that day. Terence himself went to France 12 days later, helping to transport German prisoners of war and former American prisoners of war to England. After the surrender of the Nazis in May 1945, Terence again helped transport liberated Allied prisoners to England before returning to the US a month later.
Swerlin made it abundantly clear that her new husband of a century doesn’t lack for a shirt.
“He’s the best kisser, you know?” she proudly declared, before the two embraced ecstatically in front of the TV cameras.
“Okay! That’s it for now!” Terence said as he came up for air.
To which she quickly quipped, “You mean there’s more later?”
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