Operation
Overlord 2! Well, sort of.
We were young officers on a mission. Our destination was the beaches of Normandy,
France. We left Portsmouth, England
very early in the morning, by boat. And
that’s pretty much the extent of the similarities between our trip to France
and that staged some 57 years ago.
Still, our mission was to survey the battlefields, honor the dead, and
check and see if it was all worth fighting for. The beaches are just as impressive to behold today as they must
have been then; indeed, Pointe du Hoc is still as scarred and cratered as it
was 7 June 1944. The cemeteries are
quite moving and are the final resting place for thousands of fighting men from
both sides. And the local area is now
rather attractive and idyllic, spotted with small villages and many excellent
cafes. Every meal we had was excellent,
the waitresses were cute, and the people were polite.
Mission accomplished.
Pointe du Hoc is the site of one of the most audacious operations of D-Day. The Germans had several 155mm guns at Pointe du Hoc that could have devastated Utah and Omaha beach. It was up to the Rangers to destroy the guns. Although it still seems impossible to this day when looking down the cliffs, the Rangers managed to fight their way up the cliffs, locate and neutralize the guns (which the Germans had hidden further inland), and secure a foothold on Pointe du Hoc. But the Rangers paid heavily for their success, suffering casualties in the vicinity of 60-70%.
Looking across the cliffs at Pointe du Hoc.
The view to the beach from a German pillbox.
Years later, Colonel Rudder returned to the battlefield, looked at the cliffs and remarked, “I don’t know how the hell we did it.” We don’t either, Colonel….
One of the few remaining gun batteries. It didn’t survive unscathed, though.
On D-Day, there were fewer tourists and more ships. I’m sure for a few Germans, this was their last scenic vista.
Even nearly 60 years later, the scarred terrain still testifies to the ferocity of the bombing and shelling of Pointe du Hoc.
No visit to Normandy is complete without a stop at the American cemetery. Over 9,000 Americans are buried there. We all brought small American flags to honor a fallen comrade’s final resting place. I wandered amongst the markers, looking for nothing in particular but noting where the men, and in some cases boys, were from, what they did, and when they died. There were so many buried there worthy of honor I couldn’t choose where to place my flag. So I turned around, walked a random number of paces, turned right, walked a little more and then turned and faced a marker. The man buried there had died an anonymous death, his identity known only to God.
I couldn’t have selected a more appropriate site if I tried. I gave him my flag, my thanks, and the sharpest salute I could. I couldn’t help but think that I might have been the only one to have personally honored him for his sacrifice, while truly hoping that I wasn’t. Perhaps I wasn’t, though; turns out that all five of us wound up honoring unknown Americans with our flags. It was a profound, and perhaps uniquely military, moment for us all at the Cimetiere Americain.
Of course, the Germans lost a lot of soldiers as well. Over 20,000 are buried at La Cambe. It’s quite an unusual and striking cemetery. The graves are not marked by individual crosses but by small headstones; small groups of five crosses represent dozens of graves. Very precise, very grim, very German. Many of the soldiers are unknown, and a fair number were under 18 years old.
Omaha beach. Just like “Saving Private Ryan,” right? Wrong. That was filmed at another beach. But Omaha looks even worse; it’s a long run for cover, and the hill is a long way up there.
We also visited Longues-sur-mer. This site was too far from the landing beaches to take part in D-Day. It was captured a few days later in light action. Still, it must have been a very nice assignment for the Germans garrisoned there. Right up until 6 June 1944, that is….
At Arromanches the British built an artificial harbor (Mulberry B). Some of the breakwater barges can still be seen, as can part of the “temporary” dock on the far right.
All these tales of glory led us to try our hand at forging our own path from the sea to the top of the hills. Although there we no Germans to shoot at us, there was an abundance of pricker bushes and thistle plants. Without the benefit of a pre-emptive air strike or naval bombardment to take out the pesky plants, we found the going extremely tough, doubly so for those in shorts. Despite having found a little defile that would have led to the top, my best leadership efforts fell on deaf ears. Soundly defeated by prickly vegetation, we fell back (almost literally in one case!) to the beach.
Note to Congress: We still need the Army!
Hua!