Wofür?
„Der Kampf Englands ist auch der Kampf Judas“ Oberrabbiner Dr. Herz an Georg V. von England (Zeichnung: Mjölnir)
Supreme HQ Allied Expeditionary Force (June 19, 1944)
Communiqué No. 27
The wedge across the base of the CHERBOURG PENINSULA is being strengthened and widened.
In the TILLY-SUR-SEULLES area, attacks by our troops have met strong opposition from enemy armor and infantry supported by heavy artillery fire.
Further east, a small counterattack was thrown back.
The enemy battery at HOULGATE, east of OUISTREHAM, has been silent for 36 hours after an accurate bombardment by HMS RAMILLIES.
Weather again retarded air activity over the battle zone from noon yesterday until day break today. Nevertheless, fighters and fighter bombers ranged from the CHERBOURG PENINSULA to LISIEUX in the east and to ALENÇON in the south, striking at communications and transport.
Bridges, railway cars, locomotives and troops were attacked by fighters between VALOGNES, BRICQUEBEC and CARTERET.
Rocket-firing planes and dive bombers attacked enemy ammunition dumps hidden in a forest; also canal bridges, ferries, motor lorries and a heavy concentration of troops between CAEN, FALAISE and MONTIGNY.
Sweeping from ARRAS and AMIENS to the outskirts of PARIS, long-range fighters searched out targets of opportunity throughout the day. They were unmolested by enemy aircraft. Attacks on road and rail targets were continued after dark by light bombers. Night fighters destroyed two enemy bombers over the beach.
Communiqué No. 28
The Allies’ stranglehold on the CHERBOURG PENINSULA has been strengthened by a series of the local advances.
An enemy attack was repulsed near TILLY where heavy fighting continues. In the CAEN area, enemy shelling has increased considerably.
Allied warships continued to give support in the eastern flank yesterday by engaging enemy mobile batteries. North of CAEN, successful shoots were carried out by HMS DIADEM against a concentration of enemy armor.
Bad weather severely restricted the activity of the Allied Air Forces this morning.
Heavy bombers escorted by fighters attacked pilotless aircraft emplacements in the PAS-DE-CALAIS and airfields in Southwest FRANCE. Among the airfields were BORDEAUX-MÉRIGNAC, CAZAUX, LANDES-DE-BUSSAC, and CORME-ÉCLUSE. Seven bombers and 16 fighters are missing.
Fighter bombers attacked an airfield near RENNES and fighters flew patrols over the beaches and the Channel.
Innsbrucker Nachrichten (June 19, 1944)
Das Störungsfeuer auf London dauert an
Schwerpunkt der Kämpfe in der Normandie im Raum Saint-Sauveur-le-Vicomte – Luftwaffe versenkte einen Zerstörer und 18.000 BRT – Heldenhafter Widerstand auf Elba – Besonders schwerer Kampftag in Italien
Aus dem Führer-Hauptquartier, 19. Juni –
Das Oberkommando der Wehrmacht gibt bekannt:
Das Störungsfeuer auf London und seine Außenbezirke dauerte auch gestern während des ganzen Tages und in der heutigen Nacht mit wechselnder Stärke an.
Der Schwerpunkt der Kämpfe in der Normandie lag am vergangenen Tag im Raum Saint-Sauveur-le-Vicomte. Es gelang hier dem Feind, unter stärkstem Einsatz seiner Artillerie und Luftwaffe, unsere Sicherungen zu durchstoßen und die Westküste der Halbinsel Cherbourg bei Barneville-sur-Mer zu erreichen. Die Abriegelungsfront unserer Truppen ist südlich und nördlich davon gebildet.
Der feindliche Brückenkopf östlich der Orne wurde weiter eingeengt. Feindliche Gegenangriffe mit Panzern scheiterten. Beiderseits Tilly griff der Feind auf breiter Front mit stärkeren Infanterie- und Panzerkräften an. Alle feindlichen Angriffe brachen erfolglos zusammen.
Nordöstlich Saint-Lô wurde ein Einbruch vom Vortag im Gegenstoß bereinigt. Hier hat sich die 3. Fallschirmjägerdivision unter Führung von Generalleutnant Schimpf besonders hervorgetan.
Kampffliegerverbände versenkten vor dem Landekopf zwei Handelsschiffe mit 18.000 BRT und einen Zerstörer. Vier weitere Handelsschiffe mit 29.000 BRT und drei Zerstörer wurden schwer beschädigt.
Marineküstenbatterien beschädigten westlich der Halbinsel Cherbourg ebenfalls einen feindlichen Zerstörer.
Auf der Insel Elba verstärkt sich der Feind durch neue Zuführungen. Die Inselbesatzung leistet unter Befehl des tapferen Kommandanten Generalmajor Gail heldenhaften Widerstand und hat dem Gegner schwere Verluste beigebracht. Vor weit überlegenem Feind mußten sich unsere Truppen schließlich auf den Nordostteil der Insel zurückziehen. Die Kämpfe gehen weiter.
Torpedoboote versenkten östlich der Insel Elba ein britisches Schnellboot und beschädigten zwei weitere schwer.
Im Abschnitt von Grosseto bis Perugia war gestern ein besonders schwerer Kampftag. Mit zusammengefassten Kräften griff der Feind während des ganzen Tages an, ohne daß es ihm gelang, größeren Geländegewinn zu erzielen. Zu besonders heftigen Kämpfen kam es im Raum südwestlich und südlich Perugia, wo unsere Truppen verbissen Widerstand leisteten und wiederholte, von Panzern unterstützte Angriffe zum größten Teil im Nahkampf zerschlugen.
Im Osten scheiterten örtliche Angriffe der Sowjets im Karpatenvorland, an der Beresina und beiderseits Witebsk unter hohen Verlusten für den Feind.
Schwere deutsche Kampfflugzeuge führten in der vergangenen Nacht einen zusammengefassten Angriff gegen den Bahnknotenpunkt Sarny, der große Brände und Explosionen verursachte.
Ein nordamerikanischer Bomberverband flog nach Nordwestdeutschland ein und führte Terrorangriffe gegen mehrere Städte. Besonders in den Wohngebieten von Hamburg, Bremen, Hannover und Wesermünde entstanden Schäden und Personenverluste. Durch Flakartillerie der Luftwaffe und der Kriegsmarine wurden 16 feindliche Flugzeuge vernichtet.
The Free Lance-Star (June 19, 1944)
NAZIS FAIL IN ATTEMPT TO BREAK FROM TRAP
9th Infantry Division cuts peninsula below Cherbourg
Over 25,000 Nazis caught in pocket
By Wes Gallagher
Breakthrough below Cherbourg
Arrows pointing to Saint-Jacques and Saint-Lô-d’Ourville indicate where U.S. troops have broken through German lines to cut off Cherbourg. The Americans reached the coast Sunday.
SHAEF, London, England (AP) –
Lt. Gen. Omar N. Bradley’s U.S. troops squeezed within eight miles of Cherbourg today and shelled the strategic port with their big guns tonight.Steadily strengthening their hold all across the peninsula, the Yankees turned back a single desperate German attacks to break out of the trap, struck out both north and south to widen their cordon and captured Bricquebec, only 11 miles south of the southern edge of Cherbourg.
SHAEF, London, England (AP) –
The U.S. 9th Infantry Division has crushed a German attempt to burst out of the American trap bottling up perhaps 25,000 to 40,000 Nazis below Cherbourg, hurling back a thrust 13 miles due south of the port, SHAEF announced today.
The Germans lashed out in the darkness in a heavy local attack near Saint-Jacques-de-Néhou, but were thrown back with heavy losses.
Toward the eastern flank of the 116-mile Normandy front, British forces battled into the northern end of shell-torn Tilly-sur-Seulles, with the Germans still holding in the southern part of the town between Bayeux and Caen.
Lt. Gen. Omar N. Bradley’s troops, laying siege to Cherbourg after thrusting a seven-mile-wide corridor clean across the peninsula, are now building up strength for “the next step,” Supreme Headquarters said.
German guns laid a heavier shell barrage on American-held Carentan, stronghold near the eastern base of Cherbourg Peninsula.
Other Americans on the northeastern end of the ling choking off Cherbourg fought toward the port from the Montebourg area, 14 miles to the southeast.
Local advances were scored on other sectors of the beachhead, SHAEF said.
Germans in trap
The Americans quickly broadened the corridor flung across Cherbourg Peninsula.
The trapped Germans appeared to have the choice of fighting to the death or surrendering.
The spearhead of Gen. Bradley’s spectacular drive to capture the big port of Cherbourg, developed by Napoleon, was the U.S. 9th Infantry Division. The capture of a French naval base would be an old story for this division, for the 9th Division broke through German defenses to take Bizerte, Tunisia, 13 months ago under Maj. Gen. Manton S. Eddy.
U.S. forces that severed the peninsula were busy widening their breakthrough path to the Atlantic coast, which even last night was seven miles wide. They were driving the Germans down toward La Haye-du-Puits, into what appeared to be another trap.
If this spearhead takes the town of La Haye, the Germans in that area will be in another pocket – between Saint-Lô-d’Ourville and the Atlantic coast.
A third U.S. column under Bradley’s command struck south of Lison to within six miles of Saint-Lô, important rail and highway junction in the Fire River Valley.
Fighting in streets
Almost all the advances on the Normandy beachhead reported today by Supreme Headquarters were on the American side except at Tilly-sur-Seulles, 11 miles west of Caen, where a British division broke through German defenses in a small breach and was fighting in the streets of Tilly.
All along the rest of the beachhead front, there were brisk small actions as Gen. Sir Bernard L. Montgomery, Allied ground commander, built up his forces for a typical “Monty” punch backed up by thousands of big guns.
Beach areas were quiet and unloading of men and materiel proceeded at a rapid rate.
One officer returning to Britain said that it was quieter behind the lines on the beachhead than in southern England, where the Germans sent over hundreds of rocket bombs, causing casualties and damage, particularly among the civilian population.
But in six days of incessant bombardment with the new weapon, the Germans had failed to halt the dispatch of a single ship to the beachhead.
On the beachhead side, the German Air Force had virtually disappeared, which might be an indication that Marshal Erwin Rommel was conserving his forces for an all-out attack.
Using old guns
German troops in the Cherbourg area are not of the highest quality, and they have been using many horse-drawn guns. Many of which have been knocked out by Allied strafing planes.
The Germans have a strong perimeter defense around Cherbourg and undoubtedly Hitler’s orders will be to hold on to the last. There is no chance for the German garrison to escape, since the Allies control all sea and air routes.
The German-held Channel Islands, which have many heavy guns, may give the Allied western flank a good deal of trouble, but so far, U.S. and British battleships have been able to deal with any coastal defenses encountered.
While the Germans were expected to attempt destruction of the port of Cherbourg, they are unlikely to prevent its use by the allies. The naval docks, especially, are hewn out of solid rock and there is little the Germans can do against these.
‘Desert Rats’ in line
It was disclosed today that on the eastern end of the beachhead, Montgomery has under his commander the British 7th Armored Division, famed as the “Juba,” or “Desert Rat” Division.
“Monty” was apparently biding his time, as always, to launch an all-out blow to beat a way out of the beachhead and into the open country of France.
When the time comes, it is more than likely that the “Desert Rats,” who Montgomery insisted be brought to England, will be playing a major role in the assault.
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Launching area for rockets hit
U.S. heavies strikes at Pas-de-Calais bases
SHAEF, London, England (AP) –
U.S. heavy bombers 500 to 700 strong hammered Hitler’s rocket-bomb launching area at Pas-de-Calais today as more of the pilotless explosives hurtled over into England, and other big Allied planes struck heavily at German air bases in southwestern France.
Fighter-bombers, attacking at the rate of one a minute, drove home a three-ply assault in direct support of the invasion forces. One wave pounded trapped German forces on northern Cherbourg Peninsula.
Another battered communications routes to the southeast over which the Nazis were trying to reinforce their armored divisions in the Tilly-Caen sector. The third stream bombed the area north of Paris, disrupting enemy reinforcement lines.
U.S. heavy bombers slashed at rocket installations after a night assault by the RAF, in which one plane was lost, and a raid in the same area Sunday by big U.S. bombers.
Other formations hit airfield targets including Bordeaux-Mérignac, Cazaux, and Corme-Écluse near the coast west of Cognac.
A rare stretch of bad June weather was still hampering air operations.
Deception fails
Fighter-bombers blasted to pieces one concentration of several hundred Germans. Col. Donald Blakeslee’s U.S. Mustang group saw what looked like a big procession of citizens out for a ride in horse shays, but when the pilots “buzzed” the cavalcade for a closer look, German soldiers dived for cover. The ammunition-loaded “shays” were sent up in a string of firecracker explosives while horses scampered across the fields.
The Germans are apparently making increased use of horse-drawn vehicles, indicating perhaps a shortage of motor vehicles or necessity of using horses to go over or around battered roads.
More than 1,300 U.S. heavy bombers hammered oil refineries and storage points in the Hamburg area and three enemy airdromes in Northwest Germany yesterday, while 250 other heavy bombers pounded the Pas-de-Calais area.
The Germans hurled more winged bombs at southern England today, carrying their attack with these new weapons into its fifth day.
Although the German threw up a flak barrage described as one of the heaviest yet encountered, not a single enemy fighter arose to challenge the mighty U.S. aerial fleet which struck into Germany yesterday. About 500 U.S. fighters accompanied the heavy bombers.
Only two German aircraft were sighted all day yesterday by U.S. 9th Air Force Thunderbolt, Lightning and Mustang pilots, who made more than 1,000 individual flights.
Churchill: Victory is closer
Predicts full success will come this summer
London, England (AP) –
Prime Minister Churchill, in a speech delivered at the Mexican Embassy four days ago and permitted to be published only today, said the months of this summer may “bring full success to the cause of freedom.”
He said the invasion of Normandy was a great tactical surprise to the Germans who did not know it was coming until they saw the ships and:
It may be that events will occur in the next few months which will show us whether we are soon to be released of the curse which has been laid upon us by the Germans.
The invasion was launched “in full accord” with the Russians and the decisions reached at Tehran, he added, “and although the execution of the plans adopted there is far from being complete, it is being steadily unrolled, the months of this summer may be the victories of this Allied campaign bring full success to the cause of freedom.”
Touching on political aspects of the war, the Prime Minister said efforts were being made “to achieve permanent cooperation and to build up an organization after which this war will strengthen the bonds between all our nations and will succeed in preserving peace.”
He said:
We look forward to the future in which the rights of small nations will be upheld and protected and in which the strong will use their power under the law for the protection of the weak.
German Red Cross cars suspicious
An Allied airstrip, France (AP) –
U.S. fighter pilots grew suspicious today of the relatively large number of vehicles behind German lines bearing Red Cross markings.
Pilots said the Germans either have an abundance of wounded or are traveling under false colors.
Lt. David Fuller of Warehouse Point, Connecticut, said:
About eight out of every ten vehicles we sighted had a big Red Cross on them. That seems an unusually high percentage to me.
Pilots meticulously avoid firing on automobiles with Red Cross insignia. The only way they can make sure they are genuine is to drop low while flying 300 miles an hour or more. This is dangerous with flak batteries around.
Yank-held beach becomes France’s busiest seaport
On a U.S.-held beach in Normandy, France (AP) –
This has suddenly become France’s busiest port.
More shipping was landed here Sunday and sent into U.S. lines then passed through Cherbourg during an entire month of normal operations.
And still it is pouring in. Liberty ships, LSTs (Landing Ships, Tanks) and converted ocean liners lie offshore by the scores with their umbrella of barrage balloons.
Their cargo bears a simple stenciled codeword for their destination. To thousands of sailors and soldiers who toil here day and night this beach is their temporary hometown. All it needs is a Chamber of Commerce.
There are no houses – just tents and foxholes.
The foxholes with boards and dirt thrown over the top are more desirable residences. The canvas G.I. tents aren’t flak-proof. Jerry comes over as soon as it gets dark and trigger-happy gun crews on the ships offshore join with the anti-aircraft lads on the beach in an ack-ack show rivaling London’s.
“There have been more killed and hurt from falling flak than from bombs,” said Lt. Col. William Hunnel of Buffalo, New York, director of operations for the Army transportation outfit at headquarters here.
One raider came in too low last night.
“He must be bucking for a sergeant or something,” said Pvt. A. M. Pollock of Brooklyn, New York, as the German plane flew threw a field of tracer fire.
A minute later, the flaming plane started a long drive into the sea.
German fortifications attract the most interest. Elaborate oil paintings on the walls of a tunnel alongside a gun show the beach and landmarks with the exact range noted alongside. The gunners didn’t have to be able to read to operate an 88mm gun.
Inside the tunnel under about 40 feet of earth are thousands of rounds of 88mm ammunition. The big shells were stored like bottles of wine. They are 1943 vintage. Four Germans still lie sprawled in front where the U.S. Rangers killed them on D-Day.
The signs of fierce battles on the beach are rapidly disappearing.
Twenty bulldozers are busy clearing roads. A detail of prisoners is collecting stray pieces of clothing, helmets, and canteens, and sorting them into huge piles. Trucks haul them away for salvage.
Road signs have gone up. Yank MPs keep the traffic moving on the right side of the road, instead of the left.
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Essary: Recalls agony of peacetime Channel crossing
Getting past French columns ordeal for veteran travelers
By Helen Essary, Central Press columnist
Washington –
The weather and the Channel tides timed the invasion of France, Allied chiefs explain. Crossing the English Channel is regarded by many people as the most disagreeable experience any traveler can have, said President Roosevelt the other day. The sea moves fast there. The waves roll high and the winds blow strong. There were tens of thousands of men to be got across the water and landed on enemy territory on the shores near Cherbourg, Le Havre and Calais, Mr. Roosevelt added.
I used to think I was landing on enemy territory even in those jolly old pre-war touring days when I tottered off the Channel boat at Cherbourg, Calais or Le Havre. Those fierce able-bodied French females who pushed me around the customs office – especially at Calais – made me feel unwanted on French territory (this is definitely an understatement).
There was no Parisian chic about these ladies. They wore no stays to bind their physical proportions. Their smacked back “cheveux” were not done according to the “dernier cri” of the Rue de Rivoli. Their broad denim aprons had not been created by Paguin nor any other couturière.
But how those women could wave their arms and yell and shove. I suspected them of being descendants of Madama La Farge, whom Charles Dickens pictured knitting in a Paris square as Le Guillotine lopped off the heads of the aristocrats.
When the news of the Nazi invasion of France startled the world four years ago, I wondered how Hitler’s warriors could have got past those custom house grenadier-esses. Bucking the French customs with their assistance was a trial to break the stiffest backbone. You always knew you were going to lose your luggage.
You knew the train on which you had a compartment (suspicious word) would leave without you because you were certain to be the last to escape from this landing madhouse.
You went stumbling up and down steps, across cobblestones – there always seemed to be so many cobblestones – across railroad tracks at the heels of strange, foreign characters. These characters fought over your bags and suspected you of concealed American cigarettes and typewriters, whose shouts you could not understand regardless of the opened Phrase Book for Travelers you held in one hand. With the other hand, you clutched an umbrella, a “lightweight” coat, a paper parcel of silver spoons you had “picked up, my dear, at one of those adorable, open-air markets in London,” a mile of colored tickets, your passport, your landing card, your pound note for which you were sure you were not going to be paid your francs’ worth at the ”exchange” wicket, and your Paris-Herald without which, if you were a true American, you never traveled for fear you would not know the “rate of exchange.”
The heavy fear of the things you had to have in order to land in France was sometimes more than an uncultured American could cope with. Especially if the wind over the Channel was blowing extra strong, I once saw a harried nervous lady tourist drop her purse and her passport over the side of the boat into the sea. The French authorities would not let her off the boat without identification. She may be there yet for all I know.
Those Channel tides were exciting and fun if you were not rocking about on their uncanny crests, so to speak. I spent a season at a small and elegant Channel resort – “Bexhill-on-Sea.”
Near Boulogne, where many of our soldiers landed on the French side, many of the beaches were sandy.
I spent one night at a spot where the swimmers, Gertrude Ederle and others, were in training. After a dinner of langouste (lobsters without the big claw), I had taken myself to bed in a many-windowed room facing the Channel.
All night long, a towering lighthouse twirled its beams across my poor face. When I had finally got to sleep, I was awakened by the noise of the tide rushing in. At low tide the beach had stretched out as wide as two blocks, it seemed to me, but now I could hear the sea charging about under the foundations of the inn. And I thought how sad it would be if I were washed out to sea in this unknown land without a friend to identify “body of drowned woman washed up on shore” like the captain’s little daughter in “The Wreck of the Hesperus.”
Editorial: The prize
Cherbourg Peninsula assumes historic importance in this greatest of military enterprises. Allied generals saw that its possession would send the war far forward because it would mean the difference between landing men and armor on the beaches, often in rough seas, and disembarking in the security of a safe harbor.
German estimates, which may or may not be accurate, are that a half million Allied troops have been out ashore in Normandy. The landing of an army of this size, with all necessary supplies and equipment, is a miracle of human endeavor. It must not be forgotten that this task was accomplished with severe losses – losses in men, in shipping, equipment, as the littered beaches and the debris in the wash of the waves prove.
Cherbourg today is a wrecked city and a ruined port. Installations were greatly damaged by Allied attacks from the air, and the Germans completed the work of demolition. Restoration of the port to usability will not be a lengthy job, however, and possession of the city will make possible an uninterrupted flow of supplies from Britain to France as the invasion expands to ever greater proportions.
Cherbourg becomes the first great objective of Allied armies because it was assigned the role of serving as the keystone of the invasion, the source of power for steady, devastating blows which will carry the forces of liberation toward their final objective.
LIFE (June 19, 1944)
Invasion surgeon
Gen. Hawley provides quick care for wounded
By Mary Welsh
London, England –
There are thousands of American fighting men slogging through the invasion who, next year or some year soon after, will be home again, living their lives peacefully without any dog tags. In any previous war, these same men would never go home. Their post-war identification would be a fixed cross with their name, rank and serial number.
These returning thousands will be composed of the men hospitalized for battle wounds who this time will not die. The Army Medical Corps has reduced the death rate of hospitalized wounded from 8% in World War I to 3% in World War II. There are many more casualties who, if injured in 1918, would have been long invalided. In 1944, these wounded will recover quickly and completely.
The man who, more than any other, is responsible for pushing back these margins of pain, disability and death on the second front is a solid, freckle-faced surgeon named Paul Ramsey Hawley, who is a major general in the U.S. Army. Gen. Hawley comes from College Corner, Ohio, a town he likes. He also likes precision in speech, medicine and manners, The Diary of Samuel Pepys, his job. He came to England from Pennsylvania’s Carlisle Barracks in September 1941 to study English medical methods under the Blitz. After Pearl Harbor, Hawley stayed on to become chief U.S. Army surgeon in the European Theater. As head ETO surgeon, Gen. Hawley has assembled in one vast organization some of the top U.S. talent in surgery. He has also assembled medicine and huge stores of blood plasma, sulfa drugs, penicillin and new anesthetics like sodium pentathol which can go to forward-zone hospitals because its use does not require elaborate equipment. But Gen. Hawley and his chief surgical consultant, inexhaustible Col. Elliott Cutler of Harvard’s Medical School, put only a portion of their faith in medicine alone. They know how necessary good surgery is in treating battle casualties.
Gen. Hawley has keyed his entire organization to the principle that the earlier the surgery on many types of wounds, the better the soldier’s chance of full recovery. His watchword is: “Get the surgeon to the patient, not the patient to the surgeon.” The invasion wounded will not have to undergo unnecessary feats of endurance, for Gen. Hawley has worked out a “chain of evacuation” system to insure them speedy medical treatment and surgery. His gentle-handed legions of first-aid men, litter bearers, ambulance drivers, hospital train and aircraft crews are skilled in moving casualties quickly and with expert precision. His doctors’ system of sorting wounds quickly routes soldiers in need of immediate surgery to completely equipped hospitals only a few miles behind the front.
In Gen. Hawley’s “chain of evacuation,” there are 10 halting places. In every one of them, and en route between, men may be treated according to their needs. Most wounded will bypass several of them.
The Hawley chain is composed of: 1) first-aid men, 2) litter bearers, 3) battalion aid stations, 1,000 yards or less from the front, 4) division clearing stations, about eight miles back, 5) evacuation hospitals, 15 to 30 miles behind the lines, 6) field hospitals, paralleling the evacuation hospitals, 7) hospital trains and ships, 8) station and general hospitals in secure areas where patients may remain six months if necessary, 9) convalescent hospitals, 10) the United States of America.
First-aid men, one for each platoon of infantry, move onto the battlefield just behind the fighters. In paratroop outfits they jump with the soldiers. Under shells, bombs and mortar fire, they give instant aid to the wounded. If a casualty can walk, he goes with temporary dressing to the battalion aid station by himself. If he can’t walk, the first-aid man makes him comfortable, with morphine if necessary, then directs litter bearers to him.
At battalion aid stations, doctors, working in tents or available buildings, give treatment for shock, control hemorrhage, relieve pain, administer transfusions, immobilize fractures. These numerous small units do not attempt major surgery. They simply prepare the wounded for traveling in the greatest possible comfort.
The first real wound-sorting nation in the evacuation chain is the division clearing station, whose functions are similar to those of an emergency room in big city hospitals. Here experts in wound-diagnosis decide which men need priority in travel and treatment, which can more safely wait. Meanwhile, they change dressings, check tourniquets, prevent infection, relieve pain. Most soldiers hit by ordinary bullets feel little pain for the first couple of hours.
From division clearing stations, all but the most lightly wounded move back in ambulances to evacuation hospitals, two or three hours behind the front. Here doctors are equipped to do major surgery, but since evacuation hospitals must be ready to move with the troops, they take in only men they expect to recover quickly. Annexed to each evacuation hospital is a field hospital which stays stationary longer. To these field hospitals go urgent chest and abdominal cases who will not be moved until they are out of danger.
From either evacuation or field hospitals the way back from the front is comparatively smooth. Shining, clean hospital trains and ships heavily staffed by nurses and doctors take casualties to big station and general hospitals in England where there are experts in every type of medicine and surgery, either on staff or on call. Many of these large U.S. hospitals, now quartered in Nissen huts in England, complete with their own kitchens, laundries and electric power plants, are scheduled to follow the invasion across the channel.
To save travel, the rule of the chain of evacuation is that the patient must be evacuated no farther to the rear than his condition warrants. But sulfa drugs, penicillin and other new methods of treatment now make it safe and virtually painless for many men to travel far distances before they get definitive treatment. For instance, brain wounds may cause no pain at all, since no sensory nerves are in the brain. Thus, if they are not otherwise hurt and if sulfa has been administered early, men with shrapnel in their heads may now travel straight back to the big hospital.
Gen. Hawley’s statistical staff has figured out from its African and Italian experiences, just how many of what kind of patients invasion doctors may expect and what the hazards of their injuries are. They have learned that high explosives – bombs, shells, mines and mortar – cause 82% of all wounds, small arms only 18%, and that the soldier is most apt to be hit in the arms or legs. They know, too, that 15% of all combat casualties receive abdominal, pelvic and chest wounds and that these are the cases which must be most quickly attended. In the last war, the AEF mortality rate from abdominal and pelvic wounds was 43%. During three months of hard fighting in Africa last year, the U.S. Army Medical Corps managed to hold the rate to 21%. With his mobile, forward-zone field hospitals, Gen. Hawley hopes to reduce this percentage even further. On the second front, soldiers with serious abdominal and chest wounds will reach the operating tables of these field hospitals a scant two or three hours after they are hit.
Without the strictest adherence to military precisions and what the Army calls SOP (Standard Operational Procedure), Gen. Hawley’s complex organization could never work. Except in big hospitals, a patient may never be attended by the same doctor twice. The nurse who puts on a bandage may be 50 miles away when it is taken off. To ensure that the treatment of any type of injury or illness “be continuous and conform to one plan rather than altered with each change of medical officers.” Hawley and his staff compiled a Manual of Therapy which standardizes every medical treatment and surgical operation down to the kinds of anesthetics to be given, the exact amount of drugs, types of bandages, kinds of stitches, sixes of shrapnel to be removed.
The manual recommends surgical techniques which a few years ago were considered revolutionary. Proof that these practices are correct is provided by corps of experts in toxicology, pathology, bacteriology, serology, parasitology and entomology. They deal with problems too complicated for average hospital laboratories, hunting down every evidence of unusual diseases, rare germs, worms, bugs. They are the Army’s insurance against outbreaks of food-poisoning or amebic dysentery, typhoid, dozens of other epidemics.
Some of Gen. Hawley’s specialists are searching for the cause of otitis, an inflammation of the ear which grounds a high percentage of fliers and sometimes makes them deaf. Another expert is studying the behavior of typhus virus, imported from Naples. Typhus has been reported in eastern Germany and Gen. Hawley wants all possible answers on how to treat it and the other diseases which may develop in starved, overcrowded Europe.
Just before D-Day, Gen. Hawley said of this great medical machine which he has spent two years in perfecting:
It’s like a beautiful ship, ready on the ways for launching. Let’s hope it doesn’t go aground or capsize.
As D-Day came and went and the wounded eddied quickly back from the first invasion wave to beachhead battalion aid stations and to floating hospitals completely equipped with clamped-down operating tables, it was apparent that Gen. Hawley’s “beautiful ship” was doing a beautiful job indeed on its crucial first run.
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I suspect the General’s medical approach and program was far superior to those of the Axis. Certainly more superior to those of the US Civil War when the most used tool was the saw.
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Beachheads of Normandy
The fateful battle for Europe is joined by sea and air
Americans crawl ashore through gun and artillery fire onto a French beach. Many were knocked down by the waves, lost their guns and ammunition.
The weather was not good for invasion last week along the coast of Normandy. Rain soaked the streets of the lovely old city of Caen, capital of the Norman Empire, and splashed against the gray walls of the cathedral at Bayeux. Along the beaches from Cherbourg to Le Havre fog blew in with the west wind.
But in spite of the heavy surf, troops and supplies came in by sea as paratroops and glider-borne infantry came by air to drop inland. Whenever the skies cleared, if only for an hour, Allied planes attacked the German airfields, railroads and troop concentrations. By the end of the week, the American beachhead at the mouth of the Vire had been consolidated with the British beachhead to the west of the Orne, Bayeux and Isigny had been captured and there was heavy fighting near Caen. Within four days after the first landings, U.S. Thunderbolts and RAF Spitfires were flying from airfields in France.
By week’s end, too, the first strategic objectives of the campaign had emerged. The Allies were trying to take Cherbourg as fast as possible. According to the Germans, from whom most news of the actual fighting was still coming, the Allies had made three new tank landings and had dropped paratroops near Lessay in an attempt to sever the Cherbourg Peninsula. Meanwhile, also according to the Germans, who threatened to stop giving out news unless the Allies gave out more news, the Allies were fighting east of Montebourg, less than 15 miles could be crossed, the Allies would have one of France’s best ports – used extensively by Americans in the last war – where supplies could be landed and whence an attack on Paris could be mounted.
While the weather was still had, the whole attack, supplies and all, moved slowly. Gen. Montgomery, field commander for the U.S., British and Canadian armies, moved his headquarters to France. Gen. Eisenhower called a council of war on a battleship off the French coast. By prearrangement, Gen. Marshall, Gen. Arnold and Adm. King turned up in London to get a closer look at what was going on. The fighting grew more desperate, the tempo of thrust and counterthrust more furious. Caen held out stubbornly against British attacks. The success of the invasion was still not certain. The Germans had 50 divisions at their disposal in France and their Luftwaffe had still not thrown in its strength, whatever its strength might be. The Allies had other armies to throw into the battle for Cherbourg or into landings on other beaches along the invasion coast.
The pictures were taken by LIFE photographer Robert Capa who went in with the first wave of troops. Although the first reports of landings indicated little opposition, his pictures show how violent the battle was and how strong the German defenses. His best pictures were made when he photographed the floundering American doughboys advancing through the deadly hail of enemy fire to goals on the beaches of Normandy.
The first wave of U.S. assault troops race through boiling surf to the beach. From the higher ground tapping machine guns have brought down several men in the water. This landing was one of the U.S. seaborne attacks made on June 6 between Saint-Vaast-la-Hougue and Isigny.
Troops crouch behind shallow-water obstacles installed by Germans. Tanks out of camera field to the right move up to silence German fire. These men waited for second wave of boats, then followed the tanks up the beach. Two landing craft may be dimly seen at left.
Crawling through the water, U.S. soldier edges toward the beach. Immense excitement of moment made photographer Capa move his camera and blur picture. The Germans were still pouring machine-gun and shellfire down on the beach, apparently from concrete pillboxes.
Men in the second wave also take cover until all their boats have come in. Behind them men are jumping into water to their necks. Their heads can be seen just above surface. Combat engineers cleared lanes through obstacles farther offshore so that boats could get in.
Thin black line of invasion force assembles on the beach for push against German positions on heights, obscured by haze and battle smoke. Men pause on beach to get water out of their equipment and to make sure that another wave is following so they will not be cut off.
Loaded with four vehicles, a U.S. LCT cruises easily toward shore. Plume of white smoke drifting across beach is from smoke shells laid down by naval guns to screen landing forces outlined against the smoke at right is an LCT (Landing Craft, Infantry).
The scene of battle was overhung by dark, heavy clouds, dirty weather, which hampered Allied air cover, whipped up six-foot waves in the Channel. During the crossing, many of the men became violently ill. But despite their illness, they were quietly and effectively heroic. The ships shown in this picture are only the forward fringe of enormous armada which carried the landing force to France. Larger craft offshore were unloaded by smaller boats. Some were unloaded by giant “rhino” rafts made of rectangular steel chambers bolted together.
Casualties
Ships bring back wounded and dead
In Coast Guard LCT, medical officer, wearing two bars on his big Navy-type helmet, prepares to give transfusion to crewman hit by German shell fragments.
After photographer Capa made the acutely real landing pictures which appear on the preceding five pages, he left the hazardous beach in a Coast Guard LCT which was evacuating the wounded and dead to a hospital ship standing offshore. As he waded out to get aboard, his cameras were thoroughly soaked. By some miracle, one of them was not too badly damaged and he was able to keep making pictures. The excitement was not over by a long shot.
As Capa’s LCT pulled away from the beach, it was hit three times by shells from German shore batteries. Several of the Coast Guard crew were killed and others seriously wounded. The boat began to list badly, but it managed to get back to the hospital ship. There, most of the wounded were taken off, despite the list and heavy seas. One man, however, was too seriously hurt to be moved, and it was necessary for a medical officer to give him a plasma transfusion on the spot. As he prepared to do this, Capa snapped the picture shown above. The next picture, showing a few of the first men to fall in the invasion of Europe, was made by Capa after he had boarded the hospital ship.
The first dead of the invasion, shrouded in white bags, are laid in neat rows on the deck of a U.S. hospital ship, which takes them back to English graves.
Although the extent of the U.S. casualties in the Normandy landings has not yet been announced, they were generally lighter than expected. The wounded have received magnificent care. The evacuation chain set up by Maj. Gen. Paul R. Hawley, head ETO surgeon, appeared to be working smoothly. Invasion reporters who never got to France at all found a minor epic in the return of the wounded to English ports on the day after the first assault. Some of them walked off the ships, with their uniforms torn and their bandages hastily applied, but swiftly and safely carried out of the battle zone. Others came on stretchers carried by Negro litter bearers, their personal belongings piled beside them. some carried their boots, with French sand still clinging to the soles, on their litters. Many spoke of fine work done by medical men on the beaches. Said one man, “They’re right in there, giving morphine and bandaging wounds while the bullets whiz past their ears.” Another report told of a difficult abdominal operation performed in a pitching LST under improvised lights.
Three wounded Canadians chose an unorthodox but astonishingly simple method of getting themselves to a hospital in England. According to a dispatch to the New York Times, they walked out of a dockyard to which they had been brought and hailed a taxi. Their leader, Lt. C. R. Bond of the Royal Canadian Navy, said to hospital attendants, “We’re back from France.”
The big days
Sudden storms and sudden death shook history’s greatest armada
By Charles Christian Wertenbaker
From air, the landings looked like scale model with LCTs (left and top), smaller LCTs (upper right), ducks (center). Tanks, vehicles are mounting road at right. Bottom object seems to be armored truck with raised apparatus for bridging barbed wire. A pillbox is on fire at bottom.
By cable from U.S. Force HQ ship in the English Channel –
D-Day minus three was a clear, mild day with a fresh breeze blowing in the Channel from the west. Aboard this ship, the USS Acamar (a false name), there were quiet, intense preparations for directing the battle ahead. AA and machine-gun crews were briefed; there was a general-quarters drill during the afternoon. Ship’s officers collected signatures on brand-new 100-franc notes which, with luck, would be their mementos of the invasion.
Every half hour or so, tank landing ships and infantry landing craft would appear around the headland to the east and glide toward us. The boats joined a swarm of similar craft. Each boat fitted closely against the next, as if for security, so that in the mass they lost all identity and became a floating island of men and metal. Only the movement of a hand or face showed that it was not all metal.
Late in the afternoon, the mass began to break apart; each boat became a boat again, and each man a creature with arms, body and head, and a brain to keep all together. The boats, hundreds of them in single file, moved to anchor. It would not be long. In all the ports, boats were moving, gathering, and along the coast, caressing the shore, one convoy of a thousand big and little ships was already on its way to a beach in Normandy.
At midnight, Gen. Eisenhower and his staff were studying the weather reports. For some days, they had known that a low-pressure area was moving eastward in the Atlantic but the weather experts had expected it to turn north before it reached the Channel. Instead, the gale had come straight on, with another slighter blow behind it. This was probably the hardest decision Gen. Eisenhower ever had to make. Perhaps he remembered the Spanish Armada and the disaster that overtook it. At any rate, sometime before dawn he chose the cautious course. At 5:45, the Acamar’s radio buzzed: “Stand by for important message.” Just before 6:00, the message came: The invasion is postponed for a minimum of 24 hours.
The landing boats scurried back. A brace of destroyers went barking after the thousand-ship convoy that was bearing toward Normandy with its radio sealed. All around the coast of England, ships, big and little, on missions, big and little, had to slow up or turn around, the greatest armada in history broke up before it was assembled.
D-Day minus two
Sunday, June 4, was a day of decisions perhaps more difficult to make than the one that had delayed the start by 24 hours. Because of the tides, there were only three days in early June when the invasion could begin. They were the 5th, 6th and 7th. The 5th had been picked for D-Day because on this day at 6:00, the tide would have been a little more than halfway between ebb and flood – that is, high enough to land fairly well up the beaches and on sand instead of mud, and low enough to land before the first series of beach obstacles were reached. Not for two more weeks, until June 19, 20 and 21, would a similar series of conditions again prevail. And so, on this Sunday, the decision to be made was whether to invade on Tuesday or Wednesday or whether to postpone the invasion for a fortnight.
All day Sunday, it blew a gale, churning up the water even where the Acamar and the command ship of Adm. Alan G. Kirk and Lt. Gen. Omar Nelson Bradley were sheltered. At 1:30 that afternoon, Gen. Bradley visited his headquarters ship to check reports and plans. The naval officers at the meeting wanted 48 hours to reassemble their forces. Gen. Bradley was in a hurry. Finally, Adm. Kirk agreed that he could be ready for Tuesday. The British were also ready. H-Hour was moved back by half an hour in the new tentative plan. Gen. Eisenhower promised a tentative decision by evening, a final, decision by 6:00 in the morning.
By evening, the new plans were worked out. By evening it was pouring rain. The wind whipped spray over the open boats and the rain blotted out the faces of the men in them. Some of them were ending their fifth day in the boats. “They’re pretty tough by now,” said an officer watching them through glasses, “but I’ll bet they’ll be glad to hit the beach.” “The poor sons of bitches,” said another, “they’re lucky to be where they are.”
Around 9:00, the gale had blown itself out and the smaller one following it was not so much feared. The forecast: clear Tuesday morning, with weather closing in by evening. That would be good for the airborne landings, for the air bombardment, for observation for the naval bombardment.
D-Day minus one
Monday morning at 6:00, the final confirmation came. The day was cloudy and cold. The staff officers looked at the sky, shrugged and put their trust in the weatherman. A sleepy colonel said, “Win, lose or draw – and there ain’t no draw – they can’t call it off now, thank God.”
By late afternoon, the command ship was gone. The small boats were gone. One by one the destroyers left the harbor. At 10:00, when the clouds broke and the low sun shone across the water, the harbor was almost empty. Then, gathering her flock of small boats around her ad with two destroyers shepherding the flock, the Acamar, last big ship to leave, set out under full steam for the invasion of France.
Two ducks and two halftracks towing 37mm anti-tank guns are already on beach, as men carrying Springfield rifles prepare to debark from LCVP.
Some seriously hurt wait to be evacuated. Foreground, an emergency first-aid kit and a Mae West.
Dead Americans end their adventure on a cobble-stoned beach of Normandy, probably toward the end of the peninsula. The worst casualties were taken in first half hour on beaches. German casualties included a surprising number of prisoners, few of them of first-line quality.
In the tall grass behind the beach, Americans seek cover while in the background tanks advance on a shelled house that was probably a Nazi strongpoint.
Truck moves over road completed by U.S. engineers and covered with mat while ahead the engineers detonate mines.
D-Day
Tuesday, June 6, the invasion began almost exactly on schedule at 30 minutes past midnight. That was the time when airborne troops began landing by parachute at six hours before H-Hour, the actual moment of land attack. At the instant, the first parachutist lowered his head and fell toward the earth of Normandy, U.S., British and Canadian Armies had afloat or in the air some thousands of men and thousands of vehicles.
Landing on the western beach in the target area went well; by 7:30 a.m., one hour and a half after the sixth hour of the sixth day of the sixth month of the year 1944, two regiments of infantry and some tanks were ashore. On the eastern beach, waves were higher, obstacles more stubborn and the enemy prepared; a fresh division had been rushed there a few hours earlier. On this beach all tanks were swamped. The entire beach was under enemy fire and on most parts of it boats could not unload. Not until early afternoon did the first waves get off the beach and begin to spread out in the high ground beyond the bluffs.
From the sea, most of the larger warships were moving toward the beach that needed support. Dense smoke rose where the B-17s had taken care of the enemy battery, firing straight down the length of the western beach. But off the eastern beach there was a steady thunder of heavy naval guns firing, and on shore smoke rising from the beach and the bluffs behind. Beyond a dim church steeple stretched the gray beach spotted with boats and vehicles, and beyond that green fields and towns.
At two places where landing parties had found exits from the beaches, destroyers standing in close to the shore were pouring fire into the valleys beyond the exits and enemy guns were firing in the valleys themselves. On either side of the valley heavier ships crashed broadsides deep into the interior. Their guns spat orange flame. The air seemed to tremble as they fired.
On into the night destroyers stood inshore firing intermittently. From the enemy also came sporadic shelling while the engineers on the beach worked to clear some of the wreckage. On the beach, fires flared and died down. Out beyond the line of destroyers hundreds of ships lying at anchor were dark and silent under a cloudy sky. At 11:30 that night, enemy raiders came and the night was lit with bomb bursts and with tracers firing into the clouds. One ship, hit, flared brilliantly for no more than five minutes, lighting the whole eastern sky, then suddenly went out. Shortly after midnight, three raiders fell slowly flaming into the sea.
D-Day plus one
After less than five hours of sheer night, lighter streaks low in the sky showed where the moon was. The horizon appeared again and by ones and twos and dozens and scores the great flotilla appeared. Warships made black silhouettes like those printed in Jane’s Fighting Ships, and the smaller craft were at first mere blobs of black. Then all became clearly visible, down to the guns of the warships and the men aboard the landing craft nearby waiting for the moment of landing. The first Flying Fortresses appeared and, as the light grew, the obstacles on the beaches stood out sharply in the queer pre-dawn pink that make dark things darker. From the shore still came the sounds of shelling and of rifle and machine-gun fire as the first 24 hours of the invasion ended.
In the full light of day, you could look down from a bluff through the opening of the river valley at the beach spread out below. It looked like a great junkyard. Fro, the water’s edge at low tide to the high-water mark were landing craft, some impaled on obstacles, blown by mines, shattered by shellfire and stranded by the ebbing of the tide. Among them, following a narrow path from the water to the valley’s edge, moved a line of sound vehicles and a company of men just landed. As they passed, some of the men turned to look at the wreckage through which they moved: there was a bulldozer with its guts spattered over the sand, and another with its occupants spattered, an arm here, a leg there, a piece of pulp over yonder. There were discarded things all over the beach: lifebelts, cartridge clips, canteens, pistol belts, bayonets, K-rations. Behind the beach, across a wide, deep tank ditch half full of water was the casemated German 88 that had caused much of the wreckage. A clean shell hole through the steel shield of its narrow opening showed how it had been put out of action.
Echoes of World War I speak in pictures of Americans in France passing dead Germans…
…and stopping in a town (below) beside a Romanesque church. But these are paratroopers, a spectacular innovation of World War II. At right below is a Shell gasoline station.
By the afternoon of D-Day plus one, the battle of this beachhead was already the most desperate of the invasion. The Germans had set up machine-gun positions atop the bluffs; and these, with ingeniously concealed batteries, had raked landing parties. Casualties of some of the assault forces had been high. Now most of the beach was still under shellfire. The intermittent hammer of machine guns made another sector untenable and only in two places could forces be brought ashore. They were needed quickly – especially artillery and artillery observation planes – for it was inland from here that Rommel was expected to make his first counterattack.
From the bluff you could see beyond the beach almost 12 miles to sea, and all this expanse of water was filled with boats. There were, by a quick rough count, 665 vessels lying offshore, from the large transports on the horizon to the small landing craft near the beach. About five miles out lay the cruisers and battleships. Pumping salvos of high explosive into the enemy batteries inland. Yet in spite of their noise, and sharper sounds of enemy shells and our demolition charges on the beach, in spite of the wreckage and movement of men and machines across the beach, you could not fail to see the beauty of the scene to seaward. The Channel was as blue as the Mediterranean, and as still. In the blue, cloudless sky above it floated hundreds of silver barrage balloons, twinkling in the sunlight.
A narrow, dusty road twisted up from the beach to the bluff. Up it wound a column of men and vehicles. They moved slowly over the steel road and past signs saying “Achtung, Minen,” keeping to the road, to the top. There, overlooking the beautiful seascape with its twinkling balloons, was a cluster of large mass graves, and near them were men digging fresh ones. Beside the road, a single soldier lay full-length on his face, his arms stretched above his head in an attitude of repose, a bullet hole through the top of his steel helmet. Behind the bluff to the right was a field hospital, where the slightly wounded were lying on the ground before the tents. The smell of ether crossed the road. There were several French women working in the hospital, but they were too busy to talk.
The poppies were bright
There were bright red poppies and some yellow flowers in the field near the hospital but dust was beginning to cover them over. Behind the hospital was a barbed-wire enclosure already packed with prisoners of war. Nearly 500 had come in by Wednesday afternoon, and more were on their way down from the forward units. Most of them were under 20 or over 40; they were well-fed, well-shod and fairly well-clothed; and all wanted water. A captain explained to a guard that they had been drinking local water for two or three years and they saw no reason to wait for the chlorinated water the Americans drank. The guard gave the captain a drink. Many of the men were not Germans, but Poles and Balts and Russians who had been put there to die in the first assault while the crack German divisions assembled farther behind. But the officers were German. All of them looked stolid and resigned, and even the youngest ones seemed to have lived longer than their captors.
Along the road inland from the bluff, columns moved forward in the dust. Above a mile and a half inland was a regimental command post, on a road at the edge of a thicket. This regiment had come ashore at 2:00 of the previous afternoon, D-Day, and so far, had seen only light fighting. The worst things were snipers and mines, said the regiment’s colonel. Those machine guns which had moved up to the bluff just before the attack had slipped back into the thickets and into farmhouses and were sniping at the roads. There were also many concealed riflemen, and another officer said he had fund snipers in a house all dressed like Frenchmen and speaking French. Mines were small antipersonnel mines that blew off a leg, and they were everywhere. The colonel wanted to know if there was any news from the Russians and looked disappointed when there was not.
There were some French people on the road, going back whence they had been evacuated when we took the village. They were very old, or children. One old man was swathed in bandages from the waist up. They all shook hands when they were spoken to in French, but none of them would stop to talk when they might be getting home again, and all of them cared more about getting home than about anything else.
Late in the afternoon, a regiment that had been resting beside the road moved up to attack with the rest of its division. But the battle of this beachhead was still being fought on the beach itself, and the battle was now as much against time as it was against the Germans. Troops and tanks and artillery moved ashore slowly through the wreckage and mines and shelling, and for miles offshore landing craft were waiting to get into the beach. Just before sunset, warships increased the tempo of their shelling and bombers dropped load after load on the places where the enemy artillery was thought to be, but still the enemy shells found their targets. Engineers fought all night against time and by dawn had cleared two more exits from the beach. More forces moved ashore. Whether they would be in time to meet the expected counterattack, no one knew.
The western coast of Europe offered many landing places. Cherbourg Peninsula, riven by the valley of the Vire, was chosen because it commands the two best harbors – Cherbourg and Le Havre – between Brest and Rotterdam. The arrows show five Allied beach landings plus the raids, reported only by the Germans, on Guernsey and Jersey Islands and on the Calais district. Left arrows are mainly American; the right three mainly British. The Germans had long advertised that they expected invasion here. Hilly terrain is broken by small rivers cutting sharply through wooded farmland. Invasion has followed Vire and Orne rivers so far. The Seine still protects Le Havre, which will later become an objective if Cherbourg is cut off and taken.
The beachhead, as reported at week’s end, is shown in white on north coast of Normandy. The sea landings are indicated. Plane arrows show where the paratroopers and gliders are supposed to have landed in the continuing airborne campaign, by far the biggest such in the history of warfare. The main railway lines are shown. Allies had repeatedly cut line to Cherbourg at Bayeux, Carentan, and Sainte-Mère-Église. Germans claimed 20 Allied divisions opposed 10 German of the 7th and 15th Armies. Allied bombings pounded 25 German airfields in a 150-mile circle around the beachhead. Germans claimed to have identified 1st, 4th and 29th U.S., 7th and 9th British Armored, 50th British and 2nd and 3rd Canadian Divisions.
“Elsie” fleet (nicknamed from LC, or Landing Craft) sets out. In foreground is a box pontoon barge propelled by outboard motors. Pontoons can be fitted together to make dock. They bridge the water from ships to shore.
Men play cards on their way to France. They had each been given 200 francs to spend, but many lost the money before arrival. Said one, “I’ll borrow from Hitler.” One heavily armed soldier had a sign on his back, “Danger – Mine field.”
Protected by its own barrage balloons, invasion armada speeds along. In it were 4,000 ships, plus thousands of smaller craft. There were battleships, torpedo boats, submarines, minesweepers, cruisers, carriers and all kinds of landing ships. More of them were British than American.
The men listen to landing instructions. Before sailing, each soldier was given chewing gum, boxes of matches, a box of body insecticide, pipe, cigarette and chewing tobacco, water purification tablets, 12 seasickness pills and two vomit bags.
A box-pontoon barge is loaded down with trucks, tractor cranes, command cars and troops. Each vehicle has a name – Filthy Flora, Axis Doom, No Cum Chum, Adolph’s Answer, Ten Shilling Annie, For Ladies Only.
Under blankets two soldiers crawl to get out of the spray. As it usually does, the Channel made most of them queasy. Accordingly, they lost the meal of pork chops and plum pudding they had eaten on top of bacon and eggs before embarking.
Völkischer Beobachter (June 20, 1944)
Einer Gegen sechs Stahlkolosse –
Hitler-Jugend in der Bewährung
pk. Über der Küste der Normandie wogten die grauen Wolkenpakete eines trüben Junitages. Seit die Landungsboote von der britischen Insel herüberkamen und die Flugzeuge mit den Kokarden des Feindes Truppen absetzten, mischte sich auch der Rauch von Brand und Explosionen in den windgetriebenen Wirbel des tiefen Himmels. Das Lärmen von Granaten mit Abschuß und Einschlag, die von hüben und drüben ohne Sparsamkeit versandt wurden, war in der Luft und schwellte auch in den Stunden der kurzen Frühsommernächte nicht ab.
Zwei junge Grenadiere von der SS-Panzerdivision „Hitler-Jugend“ saßen irgendwo im Raum von Caen im selbstgegrabenen Deckungsloch. „Ihr habt hier gegen feindliche Panzer zu sichern,“ hatte der Sturmführer gesagt, der selbst die Einweisung vornahm. „Vor uns müssen welche stecken, also seid auf der Hut.“
Seitdem begrenzte die Welt der beiden, achtzehnjährig der eine und drei Monate älter der andere, eine jenseitige Hecke. Daß es dahinter noch etwas gab, Wiesen, Gebüsche und ebensolche Hecken, war ihnen klar, und das Poltern der Granaten aus Geschützen und Werfern, das Bersten der Bomben und das Morsen der Maschinengewehre verrieten es ja auch deutlich genug. Aber für die beiden Soldaten waren die Hecke vor ihnen und der Weg, der am Panzerdeckungsloch vorbei dorthin führte, jetzt die einzige Geographie. Man mußte in diesem Bezirk höllisch aufpassen und sich tarnen, weil es das Leben galt.
Minuten, vielleicht aber auch Stunden saßen die beiden Jungen im Erdloch. Zwischendurch schielten sie mal zu einem Luftkampf hinauf, der sich mit milchigen Kondensstreifen in den mittlerweile aufgeklärten Himmel grub. Aber die Hecke gegenüber blieb natürlich unter Kontrolle. Vögel, die der Schlachtenlärm immer wieder aufscheuchte, huschten dort aufgeregt ein und aus. Sonst aber blieb es ruhig, bis…
Ja, bis sich die Zweige auseinanderbogen und die Stirn eines gewaltigen britischen Panzers daraus hervorlugte.
Was sich nun im Deckungsloch der beiden jungen Soldaten ereignete, war das eigentlich Heroische, mehr vielleicht, als die Tat selbst, die sich anschloss.
Wie es drüben in der Hecke raschelte, flüsterte der eine: „Still jetzt, sie kommen. Siehst du, dort steht einer.“
Der Kamerad hatte ihn längst schon erspäht. – „Ich werde ihn anspringen.“ – „Nein, lass es mich tun.“ – „Du nicht, du kannst das nicht so und…,“ er suchte nach einer Begründung, „und dann musst du auch an deine Mutti denken.“ – Wirklich: er sagte „Mutti,“ der Junge.
Sie geschah in jenen Sekunden, diese hastige Zwiesprache, die sonst dem Schreck Vorbehalten sind. Nicht Ehrgeiz und erst recht keine Angst waren es, an denen Rede und Gegenrede sich entzündeten. Nur Fürsorge, das Einstehen für den Kameraden, regierten den Augenblick.
„Los jetzt. Schieß, so viel du kannst, aber schieß nicht auf mich.“
Der eine stieß sich den Kolben des Maschinengewehres in die rechte Schultergrube. Der andere aber, der Achtzehnjährige, war mit einem Satz aus dem Erdloch. Die Panzervernichtungsmittel unter dem Arm, sprang er den Panzer an, den Giganten des Schlachtfeldes. Er allein, ganz allein, ein Hitler-Junge!
Es war das Werk von Augenblicken, aber eine Tat, die das Leben wog. Sechsmal das eigene und das Leben ungezählter deutscher Soldaten.
Denn als er aus dem Rausch des Kampfes wieder zurückfand, stand der Kamerad daneben und gab ihm mit einem Leuchten in den Augen die Hand. „Die tun keinem mehr etwas!“ sagte er und wies auf sechs große Feindpanzer, an denen die Flammen leckten. Hinter dem ersten waren noch fünf stählerne Ungetüme auf knirschenden Ketten herangekommen. Und jedem von ihnen jagte der junge Soldat das Panzervernichtungsmittel in den Leib. Man muß ein Held sein, um so etwas zu vollbringen.
Hernach auf dem Divisionsgefechtsstand war es wie vorher im Erdloch. Nur sagte jetzt jeder von den beiden nicht „ich,“ sondern „er,“ als der Kommandeur fragte, wer denn eigentlich den Löwenanteil trage. Dann nahm er Eiserne Kreuze beider Klassen und heftete sie den beiden jungen Grenadieren an die Feldbluse. Goldene Panzervernichtungsabzeichen waren einstweilen nicht zur Hand. Hier vorne ist ja die
Munition wichtiger. Darum gab der Kommandeur sechs Einzelvernichtungs-Abzeichen. Sie hätten ihre Pflicht getan und Mut bewiesen, lobte er dann die beiden jungen Soldaten, und weil gerade er, der Ritterkreuzträger es sagte, waren sie sehr glücklich. Alle, die mit dabeistanden, wie er die Bewährung auszeichnete, empfanden es wie eine Feier. Als sie später darüber sprachen, waren sie sich einig: Auf solche Jugend darf, nein: muß der Führer stolz sein.
Kriegsberichter ALEX SCHMALFUSS
Innsbrucker Nachrichten (June 20, 1944)
Schwere Feindverluste in der Normandie
London weiterhin unter Störungsfeuer – Neue Verluste der Invasionsflotte – Harte Kämpfe in Italien
dnb. Aus dem Führer-Hauptquartier, 20. Juni –
Das Oberkommando der Wehrmacht gibt bekannt:
Die Kämpfe in der Normandie verliefen gestern für den Feind besonders verlustreich. Auf breiter Front versuchte er im Raum Tilly-Livry mehrmals mit starken Infanterie- und Panzerkräften unsere Front zu durchstoßen. Alle Angriffe scheiterten. Südwestlich Tilly wurde dabei ein feindliches Bataillon völlig zerschlagen, der Bataillonsstab gefangengenommen.
Auf der Halbinsel Cherbourg fanden keine größeren Kämpfe statt. Der Feind fühlte lediglich mit gepanzerten Aufklärungskräften gegen die Südfront der Festung Cherbourg vor.
Der Raum London liegt weiterhin unter unserem Störungsfeuer.
Heeres- und Marineküstenbatterien zwangen vor der Halbinsel Cherbourg mehrere feindliche Schiffe zum Abdrehen.
Fernkampfbatterien der Kriegsmarine schossen in der vergangenen Nacht im Kanal mehrere Schiffe eines nach Westen laufenden feindlichen Geleitzuges in Brand.
Die Luftwaffe setzte auch in der letzten Nacht die Bekämpfung der Schiffsansammlungen vor dem Landekopf erfolgreich fort. Nach zahlreichen Bombentreffern wurden schwere Explosionen beobachtet.
Bei dem bereits gemeldeten Angriff deutscher Kampffliegerverbände in der Nacht vom 18. zum 19. Juni wurden nach abschließenden Meldungen zwei weitere Handelsschiffe mit 18.000 BRT und ein Zerstörer versenkt. Außerdem wurden ein weiterer Zerstörer, ein Tanker von 8.000 BRT und ein Frachter von 7.000 BRT schwer beschädigt. Eine Fliegerdivision unter Führung von Generalmajor Körte hat sich bei diesen Einsätzen besonders ausgezeichnet.
Über dem Landekopf und den besetzten Westgebieten wurden gestern 29 feindliche Flugzeuge abgeschossen.
Die schwache Besatzung der Insel Elba setzte auch gestern im Nordteil der Insel den Kampf gegen den weit überlegenen Feind hartnäckig fort und brachte ihm schwerste Verluste bei. Sie wurde in der vergangenen Nacht auf das Festland übergeführt.
In Mittelitalien hielten die starken Angriffe des Feindes auch gestern an, ohne daß es ihm gelang, den erhofften Durchbruch zu erzielen. Besonders erbittert tobte der Kampf im Raum von Perugia, wo der Feind in mehreren aus starken Infanterie- und Panzerkräften gebildeten Angriffsgruppen gegen unsere Front vorstieß. Gegenangriffe unserer Truppen brachten die feindlichen Angriffe zum Stehen.
Aus dem Osten wurden außer erfolgreichen örtlichen Abwehrkämpfen südöstlich Witebsk keine Kampfhandlungen gemeldet.
Leichte deutsche Seestreitkräfte beschädigten im Finnischen Meerbusen zwei sowjetische Schnellboote.
Vor der Karelischen Landenge eingesetzte Sicherungsfahrzeuge der Kriegsmarine schossen fünf sowjetische Bomber ab.
Supreme HQ Allied Expeditionary Force (June 20, 1944)
Communiqué No. 29
Coordinated attacks all along the north front in the CHERBOURG PENINSULA have brought the port under artillery fire. After liberating the town of BRIQUEBEC, Allied troops made further advances toward the village of RAUVILLE-LA-BIGOT.
East of VALOGNES, our troops gained some ground. Another advance reached to within two miles of VALOGNES and cut the road from there to BRIQUEBEC.
Further east, the enemy was once again driven from TILLY-SUR-SEULLES after fierce fighting.
Heavy day bombers attacked the PAS-DE-CALAIS yesterday afternoon striking through thick clouds at the pilotless aircraft launching sites. From this second attack of the day, three bombers are missing. Small formation of medium bombers and fighter bombers also attacked these targets.
In spite of bad weather, light aircraft escorted shipping and patrolled the beaches. Some fighters broke through the cloud screen to bomb and strafe locomotives, motor vehicles, barges and warehouses behind the lines. They encountered intense flak at low level. From these operations, two medium bombers and 15 fighters are missing.
Communiqué No. 30
Allied troops are attacking the outer defenses of CHERBOURG.
MONTEBOURG has been liberated and our forces are on the three sides of VALOGNES, where heavy fighting is in progress.
Our positions in the area of TILLY are firm. Very heavy fighting continued near HOTTOT yesterday.
Bad weather in the battle area limited air operations until midday today.
Fighter-bombers and bombers with fighter escort attacked flying-bomb bases in the PAS-DE-CALAIS area during the morning. Several hits were scored on these and other military installations.
Other formations of fighter bombers hit a bridge over the LOIRE near NANTES, destroyed a railway bridge at GRANVILLE, and bombed rolling stock and motor transport at TRAPPES, southwest of PARIS.
Fighter bombers also successfully attacks railway tracks at a number of places both north and south of CHARTRES. Twelve Fw 190s attempted to interfere with operation. Five of them were destroyed in the air combat for the loss of three of our aircraft.
The Free Lance-Star (June 20, 1944)
CAPTURE OF CHERBOURG BY YANKS IMMINENT
9th Infantry Division now only four miles from port city
Germans fall back on city’s defenses
Where Yanks close trap on Germans
Arrows indicate U.S. advances including the breakthrough to the west coast of the Cherbourg Peninsula between Barneville and Saint-Lô-d’Ourville, thereby trapping thousands of Germans to the north. The principal other U.S. gain was a drive east of Vire River to within less than six miles of Saint-Lô.
Bulletin
New York (AP) –
Troops of the 9th Infantry Division have captured Saint-Martin-le-Gréard, four miles from Cherbourg, the London radio said today in an NBC-recorded broadcast.
SHAEF, London, England (AP) –‘
U.S. troops plunged within four miles of Cherbourg late today in an all-out offensive of mounting fury, and also seized Valognes, 10 miles southeast of the great harbor.
The veteran U.S. 9th Infantry Division spearheaded the deepest drive directly south of Cherbourg – a death pocket for perhaps up to 50,000 Nazis – advancing to Saint-Martin-le-Gréard only four miles away.
On the southeast approach to the transatlantic port, other doughboys seized Valognes and pushed a mile beyond, and cleaned the Germans out of bypassed Montebourg, four miles from Valognes.
The Germans were falling back upon the inner perimeter of Cherbourg’s defenses, Associated Press correspondent Roger Greene said in a dispatch from U.S. field headquarters. He added the Germans fell back from Valognes “without attempting a major stand.”
The power drive directly south of Cherbourg carried the 9th Infantry Division battering ram nearly six miles north of captured Bricquebec.
On the eastern coast of the trap tightening steadily on Cherbourg, a U.S. column drive two miles north of Quinéville.
Montebourg, won and lost by the Yanks in bitter street fighting and then bypassed in the push to Valognes, has now been completely occupied, Supreme Headquarters said.
Repulse counterattacks
Toward the eastern flank of the long Normandy front, British forces battling against a wall of Nazi armor struck two miles southwest of Tilly-sur-Seulles and seized Hottot-les-Bagues. Two Nazi counterattacks aimed at retaking the town were beaten back.
U.S. forces on the west coast also made progress north of Barneville, where the first breakthrough was made sealing off the top of Cherbourg Peninsula. Opposition in this sector was reported light.
The Germans have three semi-circular defense lines around Cherbourg, with the biggest stretching out six miles from the port. Lt. Gen. Omar N. Bradley’s offensive has pierced deep through this line and has apparently reached the second defense wall.
Air reconnaissance disclosed the Germans have been demolishing the port of Cherbourg and that it is in bad shape, indicating they had given up hope of holding it for very long.
There were indications the Germans were weaker on the western side of the peninsula than in the east.
Heavy aerial blows
The all-out Cherbourg drive was coupled with what happened to be the greatest air effort since the first days of the invasion, and more than 1,500 U.S. heavy bombers bombed targets in Germany and the rocket bomb platforms in the Pas-de-Calais area on the French coast.
Drawing new strength from other sectors of the Normandy beachhead, Lt. Gen. Omar N. Bradley sent his troops surging northward in what Supreme Headquarters called “coordinated attacks along the entire north front.”
Over the heads of the advancing doughboys, American big guns hurled streams of shells into the great port (France’s third largest), defended by possible 50,000 German troops now caught in the closing Yankee trap.
The deepest wedge was driven into the German ring of fortifications from the southwest. A column sweeping forward from captured Bricquebec, 11 miles below the port, hurled the Germans back to the outskirts of Rauville-la-Bigot, a village between six and seven miles south and slightly west of Cherbourg.
Communiqué No. 29 from Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower’s headquarters said other U.S. columns to the east were driving forward in twin moves to flak Valognes, ten miles southeast of Cherbourg, after sweeping around Montebourg and cutting off isolated pockets of Germans there.
Wedge widened
The American wedge across the Cherbourg Peninsula is now 16 miles at its widest point and eight miles at its narrowest. Expanding to the north, Gen. Bradley’s Yankees are now racing rapidly toward the main German defense line six miles south of the port.
It was expected that a matter of hours would show the strength of these defenses and whether the Germans can manage to swing the muzzles of the port’s long-range guns from the sea to repel a land attack.
The German-held Channel Islands have guns capable of shooting to the Cherbourg Peninsula at extreme range, but headquarters said there is no reason to believe “they can seriously interfere with the American advance.”
German troops all along the north front were reported apparently badly disorganized. Front dispatches declared many of the high Nazi officers had been killed and, in some sectors, units had been cut to pieces.
No gains were reported in the Carentan area to the south and it seemed apparent that Bradley was content merely with holding actions there while driving all-out for Cherbourg.
The building up of the beachhead forces and supplies was hampered yesterday, however, by a wind of 25 miles an hour which whipped up five-foot waves along the beaches. A 60-mph gale swept the Channel.
1,500 U.S. bombers hit rocket coast
Oil refineries and war plants in Germany also attacked robot bombs continue to fall in southern England
SHAEF, London, England (AP) –
More than 1,000 U.S. heavy bombers, possible the greatest force in history, today simultaneously attacked rocket-bomb platforms in the Pas-de-Calais and an array of objectives in central Germany ranging from oil refineries to airplane and tank plants.
The giant armada equaled if it did not surpass that sent out last Wednesday to attack French airfields, bridges and the Emmerich oil refinery in Germany.
With its big fighter escort, the entire sky fleet totaled upward of 2,000 planes.
The heavy bombers blasted synthetic oil plants and oil refineries around Hanover, Hamburg, Magdeburg and Politz, a tank depot near Magdeburg, and an airplane wing repair and parts plant near Brunswick.
The Germans reported the U.S. fleet was attacked by large formations of fighters and that heavy air battles were fought.
16 land in Sweden
Stockholm reported 16 of the heavy bombers made forced landings at the Malmö Airport.
Returning crewmen said they found clear weather over Germany but were forced to bomb through a cloud cover over the Pas-de-Calais. Today’s giant operation took a part of the fleet more than 550 miles, almost to the Polish border to hit Politz, about 10 miles north of the Baltic seaport of Stettin in far eastern Germany.
While the U.S. bomber and fighting fleet was coursing across Europe and smashing again at the ramps from which Germany’s rocket-bombs are launched, lighter Allied aerial forces swarmed across the Channel in improving weather and renewed the harassment of German forces in Normandy.
Today’s bomber formation was the fifth force of more than 1,000 heavyweights the U.S. Air Force has sent out since D-Day.
The big assault was the third within 24 hours against the Pas-de-Calais area from which rocket bombs continue to stream into southern England today.
The Germans put up a heavy flak barrage over the Pas-de-Calais in defense of their rocket installations.
Luftwaffe grounded
The German Air Force hugged the ground yesterday and last night, however. There were no reports of a German plane being shot down during that period. Allied losses were three heavy bombers, two mediums and 15 fighters – all victims of anti-aircraft fire.
Sharpshooting anti-aircraft gunners and relays of swooping fighter pilots blasted dozens of Nazi robot planes out of the sky overnight and the Allies appeared to be getting the range on this new weapon today, the sixth of the “buzzbomb” blitz.
The Germans tried a handful of comet bombs June 13, but did not set the sustained attacked going until June 15.
In one district alone, four flying bombs were shot down by night fighters within a few minutes. Three exploded in the air in quick succession.
The Germans were launching the robots in no particular order. Sometimes as many as five came over almost together.
In daylight today, the Germans kept winging the one-ton bombs into England at sporadic intervals. The British Air Ministry announced that new and secret measures were being taken to wipe out the cross-Channel attacks.
Home folks warned
As flying-bomb delirium swept Germany, there were indications of increasing uneasiness among Nazi propagandists that the German population was due for a tremendous letdown.
In extolling the new weapon and giving elaborate reports of panic in London, German broadcasters voiced frequent cautions against expecting too much.
Dispatches from some neutral countries reported many Germans now believe Germany will win in Western Europe within the next few weeks and they are singing the “We Are Sailing Against England” song again.
“Please don’t believe in miracles,” warned a Berlin radio political spokesman, Dr. Scharping. “Hard trials are still ahead.”