His pledge fulfilled –
McGlincy: Major who fell in battle first Yank to enter Saint-Lô
An ambulance carries body of hero at head of column occupying town
By James McGlincy, United Press staff writer
Saint-Lô, France – (July 18, delayed)
The body of a U.S. Army major, who had said he would be the first man into Saint-Lô, rode in an ambulance at the head of the first troops entering the town tonight.
The officer, whose name will be revered as one of the most gallant officers of the Army as long as his division lives, was killed by shellfire yesterday.
When word came this morning that the Germans were withdrawing, the alert was given to a special volunteer to attack the town. At the head of the battalion moving in for the last phases of the attack rolled the ambulance carrying the body of the major.
On D-Day, the major had stormed onto the beachhead ahead of his troops and had single-handedly wiped out a machine-gun nest. Behind him now were some of the same men who followed him then, volunteers for what they knew would be a hot job.
Hitchhiking into the town with the task force, I saw evidence of what a bloody battle this has been. Bloodstained equipment lay along the roadside. Jeeps with wounded Americans and Germans came steadily from Saint-Lô.
In the final battering ram tactics of the Americans, spearheaded by tanks and tank destroyers, Saint-Lô was left a shambles of broken buildings. In some sections, there wasn’t a decent building left.
A scene beyond imagination –
McMillan: Bombs ‘shake the world’ to break Nazis at Caen
Volcanic spouts of flame, giant funnels of smoke rise in wake of huge raids
By Richard D. McMillan, United Press staff writer
An observation post near Caen, France – (July 18, delayed)
The whole world seemed to shake. Volcanic spouts of evil-looking yellow flame spit from the ground. Gigantic funnels of smoke swirled into the sky.
It was a scene of unholy terror that spread over Caen in the wake of the greatest aerial assault in history. No man, even in the wildest flights of imagination, could envisage that scene.
More than 2,000 bombers had rent the earth in an attack which brought 8,000 tons of high explosives showering down on German troops just south of Caen.
It was like one mighty fist sweeping from the sky that cleaved a flaming path for British troops in the breakthrough at Caen.
The assault left a huge smoke pall 50 miles wide, 20 miles deep and five miles high whirling slowly in the pink dawn around the battlefront.
This display of airpower – the greatest obliteration feat ever undertaken – must have been a terrifying onslaught for the Germans in their trenches. And it should have been convincing proof that a continuation of the war could bring only death.
British bombers opened the attack as a yellow sun began climbing through rose-colored clouds. The first bombers were divided in two forces – 450 Lancasters taking the steel factory southeast of Caen, another 450 Lancasters and Halifaxes picking a string of villages.
They dropped 2,000 tons of bombs on each target, where the Germans’ big guns had prevented the British troops from reaching open country. But that was only the first stage. The next part came after the volcanic mass of smoke and dust was allowed to drift eastward.
Then Marauders swept over to rekindle the smoldering debris. The smoke by now was soaring into the air, spreading in an ever-growing pall. It had a deathly sickening smell.