For Liberty - June 6th 1944

AMH 2020
26 March 2005

June 6th, 1944

22:35-
Outside, thunder cracks in the distance then echoes through the cliffs, off the English coastline. Inside, I force myself along with the rest of the 1st and 29th infantries of the U.S. Army Ranger Corp to patiently wait out the night. Lying awake in our bunks just on the other side of the channel, some pray, some weep, but most lay, quietly, waiting. Surprisingly, when you think your mind should be working overtime, there is a blankness that is both unnerving, and soothing, at the same time.

06:00-
With no sunlight shining through the dense clouds that bled rain, like a severed limb, the day before, the amphibious crafts chug along. They splash near freezing water into the air, where it mixes with a chilling North Atlantic breeze to form a stinging mist, which sprays in the face of everyman on the amphibious deployment vehicles. I cover my face with my sleeve, leaving half an inch of my right eye unobstructed. In the weeks before, while performing drills waist deep a few miles away, on the English side of the channel, I promised myself, “no matter how afraid I may be, I will not let the enemy see me turn my face!” Though it’s not likely that the German troops can see my face with nearly 200yds of water and sand between our vehicle and their perch atop the bluffs, nearly 170ft up. Through the gap between my helmet and sleeve, I can see the rest of the troops in my vehicle, many covering their faces as well, some kneeling to pray, what may be their last prayer. All of them pale, and all probably thinking of the family they may never see again. 200yrds south of us, the 29th infantry coasts along the same path. We were assured that air bombardments and gun-fire from the carriers to our backs would give us easy access through the German defense, but from 70yds, it is apparent that this isn’t going to be the cake walk the officers promised just a few hours before.

06:28-
Now there is only about 20yds separating our craft from the shore. Shells from high caliber guns mounted on the cliff sides begin to whistle past our heads, piercing the waters around us. From here, the beach, still clear of the bodies that will soon be littered in the sands that stretch nearly 700yds, looks like a giant game of jacks that God, himself, left on the beach, just the night before. To my right, a lieutenant that I had acquainted myself with only one week prior to today, takes a clear shot from a .48c carbine rifle, that pierces his helmet, splattering drops of blood that I quickly wipe from my cheek. As he drops, limp, to the steel floor, several soldiers around him begin to vomit uncontrollably.

06:30-
The door drops, and bullets rain upon us as it had rained the night before, taking out seven men in front of me, I begin my sprint. First, through the shallow waters that send a brisk chill from my soaked thighs to my spine. Then, a short dash up 30yds of sand to a steel construction that gives the appearance of the giant Jacks. Around me, already men are crying out in both pain and fear, but in my head the volume of the scene around me begins to fade to a distant mumble, as my heart fades in with pounding, like a steel drum, echoing in my skull. Now, completely deaf to the screams and thudding of bullets piercing flesh, I know I have to keep moving or face the same fate. Sound returns, and I can see a group heading along an eastern slope, I follow in suit, weaving through the barbed wire and other obstacles littered across the beach. Of the, (nearly 140,000), soldiers deployed today, I count 23 in our group.

06:42-
We reach a small hill about 25yds away from the first wall of German defense. Here, an officer is shouting orders that I can't make out in the heat of battle, but from his face, which shows no faltering in bravery, I know I have to be strong. This is what we are here to do, and now is our chance to prove our training was a success.

06:50-
With the sound of bullets pinging off the steel obstacles, laid out by the Germans just weeks before, and purely adrenaline keeping me moving, I begin my dash toward the gap in the wall. I unload a clip that takes out two German soldiers to my left and unarm's one to my right. I make it to the entrance of the German fortress, and reload my rifle.

06:51-
The group gathers here at the entrance, before pushing through 2x2. In this line I am the 7th person to breach the inner wall, with German rifles spraying the edges above my shoulder, I throw a grenade with only a prayer that God will let my aim be true. As the explosion pelts us with a barrage of sand and pebbles, we reach the other side. Now, I am the first in line, dodging the bodies of my comrades, piled in the crevice that granted us entry into enemy territory, their blood staining the uniforms of those marching behind, including myself.

Behind me a few hundred bodies begin to fall in random patterns across the beach, but it is pale in comparison to the over 2,500 that will be found dead, and some 4,000 more missing and injured, by days end. The exact numbers from this day will never be known. For decades to come, still more bodies will be washed upon the shore, and more skeletons will rise from their graves as winds blow away the sands that buried them.

07:14-
Ahead I hear incomprehensible shouts in their foreign tongue. As I turn the corner that leads to the final stretch of field between our troops, and their last defense, a deafening pop sounds in my ear. The burning sensation of steel traveling at 600ft per second, piercing my right shoulder, through my lung before stopping near the 11th vertebrae. Again silence, I know this is it. As my muscles weaken I begin to fall, and turn, when I see a German soldier, no older than my kid brother, kneeling 12yds to my right. His young face, filled with a strain of anxiety, and slightly masked with the smoke gently rising from the end of his barrel and fading into the breeze, gives him the appearance of an old man, who has seen the world turn to hell on earth. The fear in his eyes tells me these are no machines; they are men just like us. They are children being lead out of town by the piper. Before I hit my knees, I let off two shots that spatter blood across the wall behind the young man, and the child-like innocence in his eyes turns to a hollow stair that will haunt me for what is to be the last minute of my life.
07:18:
As the world around me turns into a tunnel of darkness, I feel a jolt as a young man carrying old glory grazes by my shoulder. The young man sprints past the dead, not faltering on their corpses, carrying not just a flag, but the symbol for everything good that we have fought for. With my last breath, I can not only smell, but taste the salt in the air, the smoke from thousands of rifles, and the blood that is quickly filling my mouth, and pooling at the back of my throat. I lay on my back, and looked up one last time. My last thought is of my daughter. Though I have never seen her in person, the image of the picture my wife sent in her last letter 3 weeks ago, burns in my retina with colors only a dying father can fill on a black & white photo. The sky opens just above me for only a moment, but it seems like an eternity, as if God, himself, is looking down at me, saying: “It was not in vain.” 07:20-