Thanks for the kind comments. It’s nice to see photographs taken by those who have visited and shared their memories. Personal circumstances mean I may never get the chance to visit but pictures like Ian’s and Moggy’s ensure that Normandy is not so far away after all.
Last night I was thinking about Operation Tonga, the magnificent coup de main operation against Pegasus Bridge. About, as ACM Sir Trafford Leigh Mallory put it “the greatest feat of flying of the Second World War.” The pilot, Jim Wallwork, was probably just glad to have got everyone down in the right place. But on such skill, courage and determination momentous events can turn. I thought of Lt. Den Brotheridge who kept his rendezvous with a German bullet and was, perhaps, the first British Officer to die in France on D-Day? This immensely likeable Officer used to spend some of his evenings sat with the men of his Platoon discussing football as they polished their boots and cleaned their weapons.
Was it the crews of 617 Squadron who flew endlessly back and forth across the English Channel during the hours of darkness throwing window out by the ton in an effort to delude the Germans into thinking the Invasion was taking place further North?
On this bright, warm and sunlit morning it is hard to imagine that 64 years ago men were fighting and dying. Was it the Norwegian ship Svenner which was lost giving gunfire support to the American beaches?
And now, 64 years on, I rather suspect that all is very quiet on the beaches of Gold, Juno, Sword, Utah and Omaha. I hope that those Veterans who are there, and those that aren’t, find peace and solace in the knowledge that they will never be forgotten.
The youngest of the D-Day Veterans would be at least 82 now. My fiance’s Grandfather went ashore in August and saw his first action, the first of many (few of which he will speak about) at Le Havre. We talk about some of the things he saw and was part of but again, it was always someone else who was braver. As they moved forward they passed other units who had been in action. Uniforms dirty and torn, walking wounded, tired, haggard but always in good order. These are the men he remains in awe of. Even now he still can’t accept that a few days later he was the same.
I hope to have the privelege of meeting and saying thank you to a few such men this afternoon at Alrewas. You offer them your hand and say thank you and, while obviously pleased that you have done so, there is often that mystified look on their face which says “but what have I done? Why should you wish to thank me?” And I think that just about sums it all up for the men of that generation.
Ordinary men doing extraordinary things, without thought of consequence and often without realising the enormity of what they achieved. For them it was get the job done and back to a life of family, work and responsibility. As they reach the twilight of their years many are now finding the necessity of unburdening themselves of memories and images which have quietly troubled them all their lives. We are in a unique and honoured position of being there to listen and to understand.
Regards,
kev35
Just checked the RAF website and it was 617 squadren who threw window out by the ton in order to convince the Germans of a naval invasion further up the coast.
http://www.raf.mod.uk/bombercommand/h617.html
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