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D-Day diary - extract from my Dad's war diary - 6 June 1944 - Operation Overlord

Discussion in 'What Granddad did in the War' started by paulcheall, Jun 3, 2011.

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  1. paulcheall

    paulcheall Member

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    As 6 June approaches, I thought I'd share an extract from my Dad's recently published memoirs. The extract starts with the foreboding lead up to the big event, when troops were being brought South from all over England to encampments .....Dad meets American soldiers:
    “The first week in April 1944 found us at a new campsite, in bell tents which had been erected in a field of short grass. It was Bushfield Camp, two miles outside of Winchester. We certainly got around in the army. I recall we were under canvas and luckily it was good weather. The battalion field kitchen was set up in the middle of the field and at meal times the bugle would blow and the lads would grab their mess tins and eating irons and join long queues in order to be served with their meal, which was usually plentiful. But I don’t know why the army could not have provided waitress service for its infantry!
    In the field adjoining ours, there were some American soldiers who appeared to be from a different planet. Their attitude seemed to be so easy-going and casual. No bell tents for them, but good square tents with three-feet walls holding about a dozen soldiers. We had six to a tent. The smell from their kitchens was fantastic; they even had doughnuts for afters. We had rice pudding most times. I didn’t think they looked as fit as we were and they appeared to be casual in their movements. But they were very well equipped and I was sure that they would give a good account of themselves when the time for action came. They were our allies and it was hoped that we could learn from one another. They were very good-natured and always greeted us as friends. Being the first US soldiers we had come across,we were certain to get along well – they were OK.
    A week after arriving at Bushfield we were on the move again, moving ever closer to the day we knew nothing about – yet – but felt that it could not be so far off. The new camp was a great contrast to Bushfield and we were not going to like it. Again, bell tents – always 1914-18 bell tents – which had been pitched among trees on stubbly grass and the ground was sandy, ideal for the colonies of ants which pestered us.
    It was the second week of May 1944 and we were three miles from Romsey, on the Winchester Road, which passed about twenty yards from our tent. It was drizzling with rain much of the time and weapon cleaning was a nightmare, not exactly a tonic to put us in high spirits. For a few days at first, only routine work was done and we made a few hikes into Ringwood. We did not know at the time that we would be at Romsey until the great day but things were becoming very intriguing.
    Around 23 May, outgoing mail was suddenly stopped and we were confined to camp. Yet I can recall that the camp was not guarded to keep us in; it was only a verbal order which was obeyed without any questions being asked. Anyway, who would want to go to the nearest pub and talk his head off and perhaps jeopardize the whole thing? In any case, all bus and railway stations would be watched by the Red Caps and they stood no nonsense; they would be on the look-out all over the south of England for any soldiers going AWOL. Significant events were taking place. During this period we had not been enlightened about any plans but we did not have to wait long. Our officers obviously knew more about the goings on than we did and they were not saying.
    It appears that our 50th Northumbrian Division and the 51st Highland Division had been brought home from Sicily to land on the continent after the first day. Then Monty changed plans for a wider frontal assault; 50th Division would now have to go in with the initial assault, details of which, later. A large tent had been erected among the trees and each platoon, in turn, surrounded a sand table and looked eagerly on while a senior officer with a long cane demonstrated. The display was about the size of a table tennis table and covered with about two inches of sand with miniature tanks and buildings of all kinds. This was the first time we had seen a sand table and it showed every possible detail which we had to recognise when we landed. The way in which it had been set up was fantastic and we had looks of bewilderment and a genuine attitude of interest on our faces. The long side of the table represented the seaward side, showing models of all the obstacles the military knew we would have to face during the assault. Then, behind the beach, was a replica of everything we would find on the enemy coast. We all had our own sector to assault and on it, houses and all buildings, fences, tracks, hedges, streams and walls were depicted. We had to remember every detail as our lives could depend upon it and we should be able to see our position exactly in relation to other platoons and companies of the battalion. Naturally, we were not given any details about when or where in the world we would be landing; we were well aware of the need for paramount security.
    The planning was on an incredible scale. Officers explained everything we needed to know about our area. Considering the variety of training and exercises we had been undergoing during the past few weeks, it was obvious that we would be playing a significant role in any invasion, whenever it came. All kinds of questions were encouraged except about where it was going to be. It was a miracle how everything was kept so secret. Our lives would certainly depend upon security.
    We also received an hour-long pep talk from our commanding officer about what was expected of us and the general state of the war situation, the intention being to boost our morale. However, there was no cause for concern. Our spirits were never better. The Green Howards were a grand bunch of lads from the North Riding of Yorkshire and no square head was going to have it all his own way when we were finally confronted with him.
    We had to avenge Dunkirk and the enemy was going to find out what a fighter the British soldier was!
    The ship we boarded was an American-built vessel. It was a Liberty ship, so-called after the statue of the same name. My ship was called Empire Lance. We were very crowded, but didn’t expect to be aboard for very long. But when we were allocated sleeping quarters, we decided we could not be going just across the Channel; all that information was yet to be given us. After we had stowed all our gear we sat around chatting. Some of us wrote letters to be posted by the military at the appropriate time and we always had lads amongst us who had a gifted knack for telling jokes, usually smutty ones; it all helped us to form a closer bond of friendship.
    Then we were told it was to be France. That moment made the deepest impression in my mind. Our battalion would be landing on a three-mile stretch of beach between Le Hamel and La Riviere on a sixty mile front. Then we knew we would be the first and it all began to come together; what we had been training for. The invasion was so vast and complex that it was beyond our capacity to absorb it all….
    ... I found myself with my leg over the side of the ship, trying to get a footing onto the scrambling net. I had fastened the mortars and bombs onto my equipment and my Number Two on the mortar was alongside me. The practice we had done for this day was nothing like the real thing and endeavouring to get a foot onto the landing craft was beset with danger. The sea was very rough and there was a three-foot rise and fall of the craft against the side of the ship. It was a hair-raising experience but, luckily, nobody suffered any injuries. Somehow, we made it and pulled away from Empire Lance and then waited until all assault craft were in line abreast. There were fourteen assault craft to land on Gold beach, with thirty men in each.
    The whole operation was fantastic; the sea seemed to be covered with ships of every description. The run in was to take two hours and our H-hour was 0725 hrs, with the Americans on our right and because of the differences in the tide they had started their invasion at 0630 hrs.
    God help us, lads!”
    Looking around us, we could see other assault craft taking station at each side of us. The sea was very choppy but as the mist began to clear and the light was improving, the whole mighty operation became visible to us. And what a sight it was – something nobody had ever seen before. There were thousands of ships of all sizes and, standing out like huge sentinels, the mighty war ships (in fact, almost seven thousand in all). It was such a vast undertaking that nobody, not even the participants who were part of it, could describe the invasion as vividly as we saw it happen. It would never be seen again in our lifetime. If the British people could have seen it they would have been very proud.
    It seemed to be a hell of a long way to the beach, then I saw a landing craft next to ours slow down. A bullet must have hit the helmsman. Swiftly, somebody took over control but the boat was now a little out of line with the other assault craft and in the blinking of an eye, the front of the boat had been hit by a shell or a mortar, or probably a mine. The explosion lifted bodies and parts of bodies into the air and the stern of the craft just ploughed into the sea. All those boys, laden with kit as they were, didn’t stand a chance of survival.
    There was so much happening now and so swiftly. Every second was vital; let’s get out of this coffin! We were getting so near now and felt so helpless, just waiting for our fate one way or another and at that time we were keeping our heads down. Enemy shells were now landing on the shoreline and machine gun bullets were raking the sand. Then, at the top of his voice, the helmsman shouted: ‘Hundred to go, seventy-five to go, all ready, fifty to go!’ He was now fighting hard to control the craft, avoiding mined obstacles showing above the water, as well as the ones just beneath the surface. One boat had already met disaster on the approach. ‘Twenty five yards’, and suddenly, ‘Ramp going down – now!’ And the craft stopped almost dead in three feet of water and our own platoon commander shouted, ‘Come on, lads,’ and we got cracking. That was no place to be messing about. Get the hell out of it. Jumping off the ramp we went into waist-deep water, struggling to keep our feet. We waded through the water looking for mined obstacles, holding rifles above our heads. I was trying to keep a very cumbersome two-inch mortar and bombs dry as well as making certain I didn’t drop it. Some of the lads were shot as they jumped. Two of the lads were a bit unfortunate because as they jumped into the boiling water the craft surged forward on a wave and they fell into the sea. I dare say they would fight like hell and recover but we were not hanging about, that had been our instructions from the start; we must not linger."

    This is only a short edited extract from the several chapters of Dad’s book memoir relating to D-Day. For more info about the book please look at www.grimdetermination.co.uk, where you can also read the first chapter of the book, about Dunkirk.
    I'm also attaching a few pics which may be of interest, namely one of the Green Howards in action at Tracy Bocage in France and another of the shrapnel that wounded my Dad sortly after D-Day.
     

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  2. Slipdigit

    Slipdigit Good Ol' Boy Staff Member WW2|ORG Editor

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    Excellent post, Paul.

    Feel free to discuss your book and I hope that it sells well.
     
  3. STURMTRUPPEN

    STURMTRUPPEN Member

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    a fascinating read mate do you have more posts planned
     
  4. Spitfire_XIV

    Spitfire_XIV Member

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    This was an awesome snippet from the book Paul :) I'd love to get a copy of the memoir; D-Day holds great appeal to me.
     
  5. forGrandad

    forGrandad Member

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    Thanks you so much for sharing Paul! It was an exhilarating extract and interesting to hear it from the British perspective as well :D
     
  6. Radar4077

    Radar4077 Member

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    Interesting post! I have bookmarked your website and am looking forward to any more posts about your fathers adventures you have planned for us :)
     
  7. Jumpmastereast

    Jumpmastereast Member

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    Awesome post, love the first person view, look forward to hear more.
     

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