June 6th

Some documentaries are powerfully shot, written, framed; others achieve their strength by virtue of their subject. June 6th is one of the latter, following a number of veterans of the D-Day landings as they assemble in Normandy for the 65th anniversary.

We meet four veterans: Harry James Hart, a fusilier; Eric Gibbons and Leading Seaman Harry "Paddy" Swanson, both from the Royal Navy; and another soldier, Louis Martin. They tell brief stories about their service, about their lives since, but their silences say as much as they do on occasion. A question about deserters between the sailors, a terse request to drop the subject. A thank you card delivered by an elderly French woman. A single poppy in a field, men standing on beaches they have not seen in six decades. Their opinions on the passage of time differ, "better to forget everything" and otherwise, and then film-maker Simon Kreitem's statement; "I don't want a John Wayne type". This is a deeply affecting film. These men, some soft-spoken, others effusive, their recall bringing tears to their eyes and to the audience.

Believed to be the last major anniversary, the 65th saw then PM Gordon Brown and the Prince of Wales attend, and we see them briefly in the film. Most affecting are the four veterans found by Simon, interviewed, their stories, the fact that they are four of tens of thousands who were there that day. We are introduced to these men, allowed to hear them, they are given the chance to speak for themselves. Simply structured, title cards of sorts for context, simply shot, usually (it seems) by Kreitem's hand, simply done, yet all the more powerful for it.

There are now only three surviving veterans of the First World War, and as time passes so too will the veterans of the Second. As such this is a brief slice of the sunset of a generation. Just as we saw documentaries about The Last Tommy, one expects we will see The Last Commando, the survivors of the Battle of Britain, and so forth. Given how many fought, even a small proportion of supercentenarians will be with us into the future, but increasingly old, increasingly frail, and so too the memories. Kreitem's film is affecting, snatched - for something grabbed so fleetingly to feel so solid is testament to his skill, but also to his subject.