Remembering World War II in New Orleans

It may surprise some that The National WWII Museum isn’t in D.C. but in New Orleans. There’s a good reason.

The America Responds gallery conveys how the onset of World War II unified the country, and demonstrates how war news was witnessed on every Main Street. (Courtesy of The National WWII Museum)

One of my great uncles survived his ship sinking in the South Pacific. Another great uncle flew over the Burma Hump several times. Still another great uncle and his brother, who hadn’t seen each other for almost two years after enlisting, scrambled for cover during the Battle of the Bulge, and by chance dove into the same foxhole. My grandmother even enlisted in the Marines with her similar-aged aunt, but a health problem that she tried to hide got her sent home.

There’s a Life magazine photo of that great-aunt that never saw print, but remains in the family. I’m lucky enough to have known all of these relatives and a good number of other veterans of World War II, so, needless to say, a keen interest in that war grew in me from an early age.

My visit to The National WWII Museum was long overdue.

Initially a museum dedicated only to D-Day, greater interest and subsequent funding helped it grow to its current six (soon to be seven) pavilions on three city blocks in the New Orleans Warehouse District, just about 10 blocks (0.8 miles) south of the French Quarter.

It may surprise some that this national museum isn’t in Washington but in New Orleans. There’s a good reason.

“Andrew Higgins is the man who won the war for us,” President Dwight D. Eisenhower, former general and supreme commander of the D-Day invasion and the Battle of Normandy, once said.

The high-risk beach landing involved 12 nations and a number of casualties, but marked a turning point against Nazi Germany. That operation was made possible by Andrew Higgins, a New Orleans-based manufacturer of swamp boats, whose company produced more than 20,000 LCVPs (Landing Craft, Vehicle, Personnel).

Higgins boats, as they became known, were fast, shallow-draft, and built partly of wood (another benefit, as steel supply was limited), and thus they were able to slip right up onto a beach, deposit 36 soldiers, and withdraw only with engine power. The myriad Pacific islands didn’t offer tidy ports to land vast numbers of troops, and neither did the beaches of Normandy, so one can understand that Eisenhower wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest. Higgins’s staff went from about 50 to 30,000, working three shifts round the clock with an integrated staff that included blacks and women, an uncommon practice at the time.

The Battle of the Bulge gallery at The National WWII Museum's "Road to Berlin: European Theater Galleries" immerses visitors in the frozen Ardennes forest, where citizen soldiers—caught off guard and without proper winter gear—defended their battered line against Hitler’s final surge. (Courtesy of The National WWII Museum)

History is so much more than dates, and this museum brings its subject to life with many interactive displays, such as a submarine replica, a jungle environment that you can walk through, and full-size warplanes suspended from the ceiling, as well as thousands and thousands of artifacts, more than 9,000 personal accounts, and abundant archival footage that isn’t always easy to look at.

The best place to start is with “Beyond All Boundaries,” a “4D” film narrated by Tom Hanks with Gary Sinise, Viola Davis, Brad Pitt, and many other actors voicing writings from the war. The 50-minute film shows hourly in the theater on an ultra-wide screen and combines graphics with special effects. When tanks roll, bombers fly, or shells explode with bright strobe flashes, your seat shakes unnervingly. In the quiet of a forest before the Battle of the Bulge, actual snow falls from the ceiling, a moment of beauty before the horrors of battle return to teach audiences about the deadliest battle of the war in terms of U.S. casualties.

The “Road to Tokyo” exhibit details the war of the Pacific from the lead-up to the attack on Pearl Harbor to the atom bomb attacks and the Japanese surrender on the USS Missouri. “Road to Berlin” does the same with the rise of the Nazis and their Blitzkrieg through the Holocaust and the fall of Berlin. The invasion of Normandy, Operation Overlord—the largest seaborne invasion in history—has an entire section dedicated to it.

“The Arsenal of Democracy” honors the men and women at home, the factory workers, and the sacrifices they made to support the troops. The efforts of millions produced the materials without which no amount of struggle could have succeeded against the war machines of the Axis powers.

The stories of wars never fail to chronicle the battles and the ultimate sacrifices that come with them, and rightly so. But a great museum brings us all on board. There’s something here for everyone to learn, with exhibits dedicated to the Merchant Marines, who risked much in moving supplies through seas of prowling submarines; Andrew Higgins; the Holocaust; the Battle of the Bulge; the women in the factories; the contributions of black and Native American soldiers and citizens; and the Japanese Americans who served in battle while their families remained in internment camps.

One exhibit shows how manufacturers converted their production to support the needs of the military. Typewriter maker Underwood began producing carbines—thousands of them. Indeed, even public dissent has its mention—the percentages of Americans against the war at the time, those who remembered the first “Great War” and supported isolationism—and the events that turned the tide, notably the attack on Pearl Harbor.

The term “world” war isn’t to be taken lightly. The scale of the geography alone is staggering. The vast numbers of lives lost by so many countries, both military personnel and civilians caught in the middle, are near impossible to wrap one’s head around, let alone cover comprehensively in a single museum. This is self-consciously a U.S. war museum and not to be misconstrued as a slight to all the other nations involved. Even so, the museum can be overwhelming and, frankly, quite moving.

One could almost overlook a simple display in the first building: A collection of tiny plastic soldiers on the wall creates a sobering visual comparison of military might at the war’s start: 850,000 members in the Japanese military, 3.18 million Nazi service members, while the United States counted only 350,000. But when the war came, that would change. The museum is a powerful reminder of a nation coming together on all fronts to stop authoritarianism.

If You Go

The Higgins Hotel is inspired by the war era and features art deco style designed by interior design firm Kay Lang + Associates. (Courtesy of The National WWII Museum)

Kilroy’s, the Higgins Hotel’s lobby bar and lounge, is named after the iconic American cartoon who brought comedic relief during the war.
(Courtesy of The National WWII Museum)

I stayed in The Higgins Hotel, an official property of the museum itself, and managed as part of the Hilton Curios Collection, right across the street. Music of the era plays in the lobby, and its Art Deco-style design and period photography—even Gen. George S. Patton’s family piano—combine to put you into the past. Rosie’s on the Roof is the rooftop bar and eatery named for the Riveter character who represented women replacing men in factories to support the war effort. An outdoor table puts you at eye level with the Bollinger Canopy of Peace, the museum’s rooftop fiberglass sail that unites the campus buildings and lights up at night.

The National WWII Museum is open daily. Advance bookings, especially for the “Beyond All Boundaries” film, are recommended. If you can’t get through it all or prefer to take it in steps, you can purchase a deeply discounted second-day ticket for a return visit within seven days. Coming in 2022 is the opening of the new Liberation Pavilion, which will explore the war’s end and immediate aftermath, as well as how it all still connects to our lives.