I want to try, even if it is impossible to succeed, to imagine two things on this the 75th anniversary of the day before D-Day. I want to attempt to put myself in the minds of two men. I do have some experience in that sort of thing being an ex-(very amateur)-actor which involves reading a printed script and then injecting into it as much as you can of what you have worked out as the likely thoughts and feelings of the character you are portraying. Alas, in these two cases, or roles, I have absolutely no idea what was going through their minds!
I will begin, appropriately, with the first man who stepped into the sea from a landing-craft on the Channel coast on the 6th June 1944 and, weighed down with weaponry and ammunition, had to struggle through rough seas and incoming fire to reach a hostile shore. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Alas, at that point my imagination slams shut because it is impossible to imagine, you need to have been there. All one can do is struggle for words to express one's gratitude and admiration.
Moving from the bottom to the top, I would like to try and put myself, ex-Corporal Duff - yeeeeeees, quite! - in the place of General Eisenhower who had spent, what to him, must have seemed like a lifetime immersed in the incredibly complex details of the greatest military manoeuvre in the history of Man, and more-over, a manoeuvre which, if it failed, would shift the future of the world into a wholly new area and set back the allied forces at least a year. Then, on the very cusp of the operation, a relatively lowly-ranked RAF officer from their meteorology department warns him that on the due day for the launch, the weather was likely to be too rough and that the best he could advise was that if the invasion was put off for 24-hours, the weather would still be unstable but not quite as bad. What went through Eisenhower's mind - and heart - when he heard that and was forced to take an historic decision?
I have no idea and cannot even begin to imagine it. All I can express is my profound gratitude to both men, and all those in between, for their courage, both mental and physical, in executing successfully the greatest military manoeuvre in the history of the world.
Yes indeed DD
Posted by: david morris | Wednesday, 05 June 2019 at 17:51
About six months ago, I bought a home in a retirement community and we have moved into this place over the last few months. Whew! Never again. We still have our old home yet to sell.
My next door neighbor is 95 years old and was a sailor on a ship that opened up bombardment of German positions that day. Somehow his ship got a bit too close to the shore and was struck in the rear quarter and had to limp back to England for repairs. This took a while and when they put out to sea again, they went to the Pacific and got hit by a Jap suicide plane. The aircraft didn't completely blow up so the the dazed pilot turned out to be able to use a side arm a few feet from the corner my neighbor was tucked behind. He was hit with one round before the pilot was dispatched.
Another veteran, 96 years old, lives on the street behind me. He landed on D-Day. Got got scared, wet and scared some more but made it. His Army assignment was the 30th Infantry Division (Old Hickory Division), because most were from Tennessee and North Carolina, made it fairly well intact, into the continent...through Belgium and the freezing cold and eventually into Germany. The man got nary a scratch until about 20 miles into Germany and then he was hit but not bad enough to be shipped out.
Each of these men talk freely about those years but only in the last few years.
Posted by: Whitewall | Wednesday, 05 June 2019 at 19:32
What I don't understand is why those guys didn't insist on the Army's providing them OSHA compliant "safe spaces."
Posted by: JK | Wednesday, 05 June 2019 at 19:57
'Whiters', please pass on the best wishes and gratitude of one old Brit!
Posted by: David Duff | Wednesday, 05 June 2019 at 21:45
David, done!
Posted by: Whitewall | Wednesday, 05 June 2019 at 23:29
The planning and co-ordination of that operation is mind blowing. Just the marine side of the operation consisted of 6,939 vessels: 1,213 naval combat ships, 4,126 landing ships and landing craft, 736 ancillary craft and 864 merchant vessels.
Managing that many ships of different sizes and operational capabilities was an event we are unlikely to see again.
Posted by: AussieD | Thursday, 06 June 2019 at 06:18
Sod I think it was hot steel actually in the second world war.
You're thinking of Henry V perhaps, another fine Englishman with sound ideas about how to deal with Furriners.
Posted by: Jack the dog | Thursday, 06 June 2019 at 09:24
I have deleted SoD's last comment on the grounds that it was a personal insult too far!
Posted by: David Duff | Thursday, 06 June 2019 at 13:05