World War II veteran marries his bride near Normandy's D-Day beaches. He's 100, she's 96 (2024)

CARENTAN-LES-MARAIS, France — Together, the collective age of the bride and groom was nearly 200. But World War II veteran Harold Terens and his sweetheart Jeanne Swerlin proved love is eternal as they tied the knot Saturday inland of the D-Day beaches in Normandy, France.

Their respective ages — he's 100, she's a youngster of just 96 — made their nuptials an almost double-century celebration.

Terens called it "the best day of my life."

On her way into the nuptials, the bubbly bride-to-be said: "It's not just for young people, love, you know? We get butterflies. And we get a little action, also."

The location was the elegant stone-worked Town Hall of Carentan, a key initial D-Day objective that saw ferocious fighting after the June 6, 1944, Allied landings that helped rid Europe of German Nazi leader Adolf Hitler's tyranny.

Like other towns and villages across the Normandy coast where nearly 160,000 Allied troops came ashore under fire on five code-named beaches, it's an effervescent hub of remembrance and celebration on the 80th anniversary of the D-Day deeds and sacrifices of young men and women, festooned with flags and bunting and with veterans feted like rock stars.

As the swing of Glenn Miller and other period tunes rang out on the streets, well-wishers — some in WWII-period clothes — lined up a good hour before the wedding behind barriers outside the Town Hall, with a rousing pipe and drum band also on hand to serenade the happy couple.

After both declaring "oui" to vows read by Carentan's mayor in English, the couple exchanged rings.

"With this ring, I thee wed," Terens said.

She giggled and gasped, "Really?"

With Champagne flutes in hand, they waved through an open window to the adoring crowds outside.

"To everybody's good health. And to peace in the world and the preservation of democracy all over the world and the end of the war in Ukraine and Gaza," Terens said. He and his bride then clinked glasses and drank.

The crowd yelled"la mariée!"— the bride! — to Swerlin, who wore a long flowing dress of vibrant pink. Terens looked dapper in a light blue suit and matching pink kerchief in his breast pocket.

They were promised a very special wedding-night party: They were invited to the state dinner at the Elysee Palace on Saturday night with French President Emmanuel Macron and U.S. President Joe Biden, the mayor said.

"Congratulations to the newlyweds," Macron said at the dinner, prompting cheers and a standing ovation from other guests during the toast praising French-American friendship. “Carentan was happy to host your wedding, and us, your wedding dinner,” he told the couple.

The wedding was symbolic, not binding in law. Mayor Jean-Pierre Lhonneur's office said he wasn't empowered to wed foreigners who aren't residents of Carentan, and the American couple hadn't requested legally binding vows.

However, they could always complete those formalities back in Florida if they wish.

Lhonneur likes to say Normandy is practically the 51st state of the U.S., given its reverence and gratitude for Allied soldiers and the sacrifices of tens of thousands who never made it home from the Battle of Normandy.

"Love is eternal, yes, maybe," the mayor said, referring to the newlyweds, though his comments also fittingly describe the feelings of many Normans for veterans.

He added, "I hope for them the best happiness together."

Terensfirst visited France as a 20-year-old U.S. Army Air Forces corporal shortly after D-Day. He enlisted in 1942 and, after shipping to Britain, was attached to a four-pilot P-47 Thunderbolt fighter unit as their radio repair technician.

On D-Day, Terens helped repair planes returning from France so they could rejoin the battle. He said half his company's pilots died that day.

Terens himself went to France 12 days later, helping transport freshly captured Germans and just-freed American POWs to England.

Following the Nazi surrender in May 1945, Terens again helped transport freed Allied prisoners to England before he shipped back to the U.S. a month later.

"He's the greatest kisser ever, you know?" Swerlinproudly declared before they embraced enthusiastically for TV cameras.

"All right! That's it for now!" Terens said as he came up for air.

To which she quickly quipped: "You mean there's more later?"

Dressed in a 1940s dress that belonged to her mother, Louise, and a red beret, 73-year-old Jane Ollier was among spectators who waited for a glimpse of the lovebirds.

The couple, both widowed, grew up in New York City: she in Brooklyn, he in the Bronx.

"It's so touching to get married at that age," Ollier said. "If it can bring them happiness in the last years of their lives, that's fantastic."