“Six Days” is a very odd book for DC to publish in some ways: it’s non-fiction, it’s an OGN, and it is a war comic. Even if the fit isn’t exactly natural, the book does a lot in a relatively short amount of time to bring the reader into the story, show some of the realities of war, and look gorgeous in the process.
Written by Robert Venditti and Kevin MaurerCover by R.M. Guera
Illustrated by Andrea Mutti
Colored by Lee Loughridge
Lettered by Clayton CowlesJune 1944. World War II. D-Day. One hundred eighty two members of the U.S. 82nd Airborne Division parachute into the French countryside—a full 18 miles southeast of their intended target. This original graphic novel from DC Vertigo is the true story of an obscure World War II battle that took place in the small village of Graignes, France, for six days and the men who survived to tell the tale.
In the worst misdrop of the D-Day campaign, a group of soldiers are rattled to the core to find themselves even deeper behind enemy lines than anyone had intended. Miraculously, the citizens of Graignes vote to feed and shelter the soldiers, knowing that the decision will bring them terrible punishment if their efforts are discovered by the Germans. That day of reckoning comes faster than anyone could expect.
As a small German militia passes through, the world’s war comes to their remote town in the countryside, and for the next six days, the small band of American paratroopers and French citizens must fight for their lives to hold back 2,000 enemy combatants.
Six Days is a story of survival, loyalty, the brutality of war, and a triumph of the human spirit so rarely brought to the comics form. Writers Kevin Maurer (the #1 New York Times bestseller No Easy Day: The Firsthand Account of the Mission That Killed Osama Bin Laden) and Robert Venditti (Green Lantern)—whose uncle fought in the Battle of Graignes and is a key character in the tale—completed comprehensive archival research in preparation for this unbelievable untold story of World War II.
Stepping back for a moment, in the grand scheme of World War II, the Battle of Graignes is a small footnote. It isn’t a battle most kids likely learned about in school, or saw a documentary on the History Channel about it. But for the people who lost loved ones there, Graignes is impossibly important. And that’s the story of so many people’s lives, isn’t it? We flip past the obituaries and drive past cemeteries, not often pausing to reflect on the impact that each of those lives made on this world, and on the people who live in it.
“Six Days” does a remarkable job of pointing a microscope at this week-long period during the war, giving important focus both on the American soldiers who wind up accidentally landing in Graignes, but also the French civilians living there. Their lives are interrupted by this friendly invasion that, likely, means an oncoming invasion that is far less friendly.
Robert Venditti’s scripting on this book is some of his most subdued in recent memory. There are lots of moments where it seems like, in different hands, a monologue is about to break out. But Venditti keeps the soldiers and civilians reasonably stoic, and allows the reader to put their own feelings and emotions onto these characters. This is a scary situation, but rarely does a character acknowledge that to one another. Instead, Venditti peppers the script with reminders of the war in almost every panel, but doesn’t beat us over the head with it.
A good chunk of the story is also spent working, with the villagers and soldiers working together to both fortify the town and also prepare for the inevitable German onslaught. This adds both tension – we know the Germans are on their way – and hope – maybe we’ll hold them off! – to the story. It allows each moment to feel very important, because it could literally be the last for any of the characters, but it doesn’t make it melodramatic.
And a big part of that subtlety is the work of Andrea Mutti. Mutti’s work here is dynamic and expressive, but also pulls back from the bombast to do quiet scenes beautifully. There’s a lovely scene of two Catholic Masses – one in New York City and one in Graignes – that uses double page spreads to juxtapose the two settings. These scenes are of men talking and a group listening, but Mutti makes them jaw-droppingly gorgeous. His character work helps us identify specific soldiers, all dressed alike, but never so much that we forget that they may be individuals, but right now, they are part of a whole, and that whole is more important to their present than who they were back home.
Continued belowThe artwork is enhanced to an entirely new level by Lee Loughridge, who mixes drab earth tones with blasts of bright color masterfully. Brightness acts as a visual reminder of the unnatural nature of war. Characters are walking around in beige and green, and then BLAM, yellow sky when something detonates. The coloring reminds me in the best possible way of comics from the 1980s, when colorists would sometimes use their palettes not for realism or subtlety, but to be an exclamation point, reinforcing the line art in an incredibly effective way.
This is obviously a very personal story for Venditti, as his uncle passed away in this battle, and yet, the book doesn’t come off as saccharine or overly sentimental. Again, Mutti and Loughridge have taken his script and turned it into a book that reminds you of things that we often forget: soldiers are practically kids, civilians get their homes and, sometimes, lives destroyed by war, and not all battles turn out the way that you wish they would. As someone who has never been to war, thank goodness, I don’t know what it was like outside of stories I’ve been told, books I’ve read, and movies I’ve seen.
I wish I had the opportunity to have shared this comic with my dad before he passed earlier this year. A veteran of Vietnam, he was someone who rarely spoke about his time in the Air Force, but had a lot of pride in his service. I think he would have liked this book a whole lot. It reminds me a bit of Last Flag Flying, a film that became one of his favorites in his last year; I believe he watched it four times after he got sick. Both tell honest war stories that aren’t about big picture winning or losing, but rather about the toll that war takes on individuals, families, and communities.
“Six Days” doesn’t fetishize war, nor does it openly condemn it. However, I cannot imagine too many folks finishing this comic with any sort of pro-war takeaway. Watching young men and old ladies be murdered by Nazis shouldn’t make anyone feel anything other than pain and disgust. As is all too often the case, this weekend reminded us that some, if not all, of the tenants behind Adolf Hitler’s ideologies are alive and well in our county. Unbeknownst to me, literally as I was reading this book, another mass shooting took place here in the United States. It makes me sick to my stomach that we have learned and evolved so little in the seventy years since the story happened.
The people who died at Graignes did so because of hatred, prejudice, and ignorance. My takeaway from this book, besides enjoyment of the craft, is a bitter reminder that we still have a long way to go before those deaths don’t feel in vain. They, and we, deserve better than this.
