大象传媒

The Longest Day

The next step towards becoming operational was when we took over the eighteen L.C.A.鈥檚 which were to form our flotilla, now known as 539 Flotilla. Crews, including my own, were allocated to each craft, so each crew had a craft for which to be responsible, and to take pride in. We were also then in a position to practice some of the manoeuvres I was telling you about acting as a unit instead of going our separate ways.

The day came when we joined our parent landing ship, which turned out to be a converted 10,000 ton American Liberty Ship, all welded, no rivets, again manned by a British Merchant Navy crew, and sporting the Red Duster, not the white Ensign of a Royal Navy ship. Ours was the s.s. Empire Halberd, which was one of a fleet of similar ships, all with names of various weapons as their title.

We liked the free and easy atmosphere aboard the ship, and the friendliness of the crew. Our own internal discipline was quite right of course, but the ship鈥檚 crew and its master did not add any further restrictions, and there were Royal Naval personnel on board in the shape of shipwrights, stokers, electricians etc. to service and maintain the L.C.A.鈥檚. They kept themselves to themselves and in the main showed a healthy respect for the 鈥楤oot Necks鈥� as we were called.

By this time we had moved South again, to Southampton Water, and there were definite signs that something big was in the air. It was the spring, going into early Summer of 1944, we had been in training now for nearly two years. Now the time was rapidly approaching when we would be put to the test. Would we justify Lord Mountbatten鈥檚 confidence in us? Time would tell, but there wasn鈥檛 much of that left.

All the approaches to the Docks had been crammed full for days with military vehicles of all shapes and sizes, and every inch of space seemed to be occupied by ships, mostly like our own, but of every shape and size.

From early June there was a noticeable increase in the tempo, and then on June 4th the troops began to embark with their full battle kit. That was it. The long awaited invasion was on.

You wouldn鈥檛 think so from the look of the weather. It was decidedly blustery, and although we had received our briefing, and knew for sure we were committed to a large scale invasion of the Normandy coast, it came as no surprise when the whole enterprise was put off, and we were left kicking our heels for a whole 24 hours, hoping for some break in the weather.

We finally slipped out of harbour late on the night of June 5th, and took up our station amongst the ghostly array of ships all around us. While we waited for the order to man the L.C.A.鈥檚 most of us wrote brief notes to our families in case we didn鈥檛 make it; for a mere 19 year old, that was a grim prospect, but we all had to face it.

The order finally came in the early hours of June 6th, this was the start of The Longest Day, and began when we made our way to our respective craft, to be joined shortly by the platoon of troops previously allocated to each one. We were given tea, liberally laced with rum, and an N.C.O. or officer ensured that we drank it. I wasn鈥檛 used to drinking rum but it certainly warmed me up, and seemed to settle my stomach, which is more than I could say for the troops who were already showing signs of sea-sickness.

We had loosened the shackles securing us to the sides of the ships and were now suspended only by the blocks and tackles of the davits. As the ship hove to about seven miles off the Normandy coast we could see that there was a strong swell running. The critical moment was when we lowered away and reached the water below. Two hooks, one forward and one aft, had to be released from the eyes of the craft, and then had to be somehow avoided as they swung free. All this whilst the craft would be pitching and tossing about; and the stoker would be hoping and praying that his engines would start at the first touch of the buttons. Ours did, and we were able to steer away from the ships side, and began looking for the R.N. motor launch which was to escort us into the beach, line astern in two columns.

All we had to guide us was a shaded masthead lantern showing a red light astern, but we were soon underway, and making for the coast of Normandy which showed itself as a dark smudge in the blackness ahead of us. It must have then been about 4.30 am.

One of our L.C.A.鈥檚 had a nasty moment alongside the ship when the forward hook became entangled in the steering wheel of the craft, and ripped the whole thing away. The coxswain was out of his cockpit at the time, which was just as well as he would have sustained serious injury from the flying hook which was quite heavy. To his credit he and his crew decided to keep going and they managed to steer by dangling over the stern of the craft and taking it in turns to move the rudders with their feet, balancing somehow on the rudder guards. The coxswain, a corporal Tandy, was later awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal for this feat. He and his crew made it back to the ship. I think they should all have had a medal!

Having done its best to wreck the whole enterprise, the sea now became our reluctant ally, giving us cover as we moved in, after all, who would dare to carry on with such a gigantic operation with the sea in such a boisterous mood? Yet here we were, possibly the greatest armada of ships and men ever assembled, creeping ever nearer to a still silent enemy shore.

The first streaks of dawn were beginning to show as the motor launch signalled its departure, it was up to us now.

At the signal we formed up in line abreast, and headed for the beach, now visible, ahead of us.

The first objective for our troops was a village called St Mere Eglise. We learned later that paratroopers had been dropped some way inland, and the plan was to link up with them and consolidate the beachhead for the tanks and heavier weapons which were to follow.

The actual landing was something of an anti-climax, it went just like any of the numerous exercises we had done with the troops hardly getting their feet wet, and still no sign of opposition from the enemy. We had achieved surprise, a factor in which I am sure the inclement weather and the rough sea played a big part. We got off again as quickly and as quietly as possible, but the day鈥檚 work was only just beginning.

Our orders now were to make contact with a fleet of Tank Landing Craft which had picked up yet more troops from the landing ships, and while we were making our first run in, had brought them to within about 4 miles from the beach. Our job was to load up again, and do another run to the same beach.

It was daylight now, and we had no difficulty in contacting the Tank Landing Craft, all bristling with troops and weapons of various kinds. We made for the nearest, and duly took our load of troops and their weapons on board. I noticed that they did not appear to be as heavily laden as the platoon we had just landed on the beach, although they all had packs on their backs. I thought it a bit odd at the time too that they appeared to be under the command of a Major. The sea had moderated to some extent by this time, and we began a solitary run to the beach. We were not alone though, a fact to which the whistle and roar of shells over our heads testified.

The need for secret and stealth had passed, the enemy knew only too well by now what was happening, and were obviously fiercely contending the landings. The shells though were from our own ships, which must have included at least one cruiser which was carrying on a full scale bombardment of the heavy gun positions inland.

We were thankful too that the Allies had maintained superiority in the air, and it was comforting to see the fighter planes overhead with their distinctive black and white markings.

As we made our final run in to the beach, it was clear that the tide was falling (there is considerable tidefall, anything to 20 feet on the French coast), and the beach obstacles, which we must have passed harmlessly over on the first run in, were now exposed to view. Great criss-cross structures of wood and metal which I had to try and pass without getting blown to pieces by the contact mines which were visible on them like enlarged champagne bottles with a plunger for a cork which exploded on impact.

The beach looked like a scene from Dante鈥檚 Inferno. I asked the Major which spot he wanted me to make for. He pointed to a disabled tank stuck at an angle on the beach, and was about to say 鈥淢ake for that鈥�, when there was a blinding flash, and the tank just disappeared, it must have taken a direct hit. He just gave a sickly grin and said, 鈥淲ell, make for that spot鈥�, so in we went.

There was no question of my taking cover behind the armour plating with which the front of the cockpit was provided, the slit in it to see through was only the size of a letterbox, not big enough to give me the all round vision that I needed to avoid the many obstacles that were strewn around, so I just had to stand up and steer and take whatever was coming my way.

We found a clear spot on the beach and got the ramp down. The troops didn鈥檛 waste any time getting off, they knew they were most vulnerable at this point, and we were getting our fair share of attention from enemy small arms fire and larger weapons. We found out later that the beach was enfiladed (covered from both sides) by pillboxes which contained both 5鈥� machine guns and 8mm Ack Ack guns fully depressed, which were being operated by remote control by some point inland.

As we pulled off the beach and raised the ramp I was vaguely aware that not all the troops had made it to the beach, two were lying prone in the bottom of the craft, but I was fully engrossed in trying to keep the craft in one piece as we did our tight turning circle (one engine astern the other ahead), and picked our way through the beach obstacles, now standing even further out of the water, and the other wreckage lying around.

There was one heart stopping moment when we bumped right against one of the beach obstacles and scraped alongside it for some seconds. My face was within inches of one of the deadly 鈥渃hampagne bottles鈥�, but the moment passed, it didn鈥檛 explode and we were out once more into the open sea.

There was time now to give some attention to the two soldiers. One of them was beyond any help we could give him, the other was bleeding profusely from a wound in his right arm which began at the elbow and extended to his right ear. He explained that he had rested his arm on the side of the craft to steady himself, and it was then he had caught it, it must have been the machinegun fire which accounted for the two of them. However, he was more concerned with the pack on his back than his injuries and insisted that we throw it overboard, and do the same with his mate鈥檚 pack. When we had obliged he told us that they contained explosive charges with short fuses which could have blown us all sky high. Apparently they were a special demolition squad whose job was to 鈥渘eutralise鈥� enemy pillboxes which were pouring out such murderous fire. Because they were remote controlled, blowing up the pillboxes themselves was the only way to silence them, which explained the presence of a major in command.

We were equipped with first aid gear, and the means to give an injection of morphine, so we did this and made him as comfortable as we could and started back to our landing ship. We had allowed the craft to drift while all this was going on, so we had quite a bit of leeway to make up as well as covering the 7 miles back to the ship which had dropped anchor.

We finally spotted the Halberd among the many landing ships lying at anchor, but our troubles weren鈥檛 over yet. Miraculously, all the other craft had made it back and there was only one vacant set of davits available. The merchant seamen tending it told us that it was out of commission, and suggested that we make our way to one of the other ships. I was reluctant to do this and explained that we had a wounded man with us who needed immediate medical attention. It seems incredible, but one of the heavy pulley blocks had been lifted up in the heavy seas, and in crashing down again had twisted itself between the wire hawsers. What we had to do if we wanted to be hauled up was to lift it somehow back on itself and untwist it. Desperation and concern for the injured man must have given us the strength, because we managed it somehow, and were hoisted up level with the deck, so that the injured man could be taken to the deck, and his companion disposed of.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.