Story behind Saint-Lô victory –
McGlincy: ‘God bless you, keep you,’ says letter beside a body
Also on the battlefield there is strewn other little things a man treasures
By James McGlincy, United Press staff writer
With U.S. forces in Normandy, France –
A photographer had just finished shooting a picture of it and there it lay – a helmet with a clip of cartridges next to it, and sticking out from under it a letter which ended, “God bless you and keep you until you are home in my arms again.”
This is the road to Saint-Lô, the road down which our task force stormed into the town. The helmet, the cartridges and the letter lie behind the hedgerow where the Americans had dug in for a while. On the other side of the hedgerow were German foxholes. On this side were ours.
Now all around them lies the debris of battle – yet it is more than that because the articles strewn about are such small, warm personal possessions. There are tubes of shaving cream, packs of cigarettes, razorblades, postcards of French towns, foot powder, newspaper clippings – and those letters.
One of the clippings is from a newspaper in Connecticut, a copy of a letter a boy had written while he was still in England. It wasn’t literary or flowery, just sincere. It read:
I’m tired of war and being away from hm. But we want to get it over with. I’ll be glad when we lick the Germans and the Japs.
Nearby is a letter from his wife. I shouldn’t read other people’s mail but somehow it seems that these letters ought to be told – plain, everyday letters that people write to the ones they love.
It’s one way of telling what happens here – of how bodies are mangled and lives are tangled so that the objective can be attained – a town like Saint-Lô.
That boy’s wife wrote:
I’m glad you like it, being you have to be there. I know it’s some pretty country over there and it will be quite an experience. You can tell me lots when you come home.
‘God bless you’
There is a writing pad with only a couple of lines scribbled on it in pencil: “Dear Julia: Here I am once more to say hello and let you know that I’m in the very best of health.” That was written before the deluge of fire.
But most pathetic of all was that letter under the helmet, which said:
Goodnight, Sweetheart. God bless you and keep you until you are home in my arms again. I love you more than anything or anyone in this world. Always, Lillian.
This is the story behind the headline, “Yanks Take Saint-Lô.”