大象传媒

This story has been written on the 大象传媒 People's War site by CSV Storygatherer Celia Bean on behalf of Cyril Hart. The story has been added to the site with his permission, and Cyril Hart fully understands the terms and conditions of the site

PART 2 of 3

SATURDAY, 5th. JUNE

After a good night鈥檚 sleep I roused the young ones and prevailed on David to accompany me on an early morning walk around the area. As we went along the country road we met an elderly gentleman who rightly guessed we were English and we had an interesting conversation with him. It appeared that on June 6th., 1944 he was on his way to work early in the morning when he thought he spotted a movement in the ditch ahead of him. 鈥淚t鈥� turned out to be an American soldier in camouflage uniform. The soldier put his finger to his lips and said quietly, 鈥淎merican鈥�. The Frenchman knew that an invasion was imminent so he was not too surprised. The American then said, 鈥淕ermans?鈥� so the Frenchman went up to the end of the lane to have a look from a vantage point and saw some Jerries in the distance advancing across a field. He returned and pointed in the direction of the Germans.
Typically the American, though visibly trembling, reached down to a knee-pocket in his jump-suit and produced a bar of chocolate as a token thank you. It was the first chocolate the Frenchman had seen for some time. He wished the invader 鈥淕ood luck鈥� and went on his way to work. The old gent, in the manner of all country people, asked us where we were staying and when we were going back. He eventually came to the 鈥渕anoir鈥� on Monday morning to bid us goodbye. He turned out to be a month older than me. He was not the only one with a D Day story to tell. After breakfast Mme. Beck introduced me to her mother in law. She told us she was in the cow shed doing the milking early on the 6th. June, 1944. When she finished she was walking back to the farm house when she saw red and green parachutes lying in the field. They had carried equipment to the paratroopers already on the ground. She ran to get them and proudly told us the silk made beautiful dresses, adding that subsequently she enjoyed herself going to dances with the Americans when the Germans had retreated! Soon after breakfast we left for Courseulles which is where we landed the Canadian infantry after taking part in a covert operation to create a diversion in the Pas de Calais area. Despite the dire warnings of our French hosts we found the density of traffic quite reasonable so I persuaded Tom to make a detour to Port en Bessin when I saw the sign post. My memory was now working overtime and the name triggered the memory of a very long night after being called to an emergency in Falmouth Maritime Rescue Centre when I was an Auxiliary Coastguard. There was a Force II gale blowing and a French trawler was in trouble off the Lizard. My job was to interpret the radio messages. To cut a long story short, after some eleven hours on duty I was pleased to learn from the skipper that with the help of Falmouth and Plymouth life boats he was safe in harbour and he invited me to look him up if I came to France. We went along the quay where the fishing boats were moored but couldn鈥檛 find the ship. A fisherman informed me that she was 鈥渆n mer鈥� so I left a message for the skipper to receive when he got back from sea and we went on our way.

As we were entering Courseulles it was apparent that the French householders on the approach road had, almost without exception, spent a lot of time and effort in decorating their houses with flowers and the flags of the allies. When they saw our British number plate the pedestrians gave us friendly waves. I had revisited Juno Beach in 1978 but everything had changed. It had become not only a place of pilgrimage but a popular holiday centre. It was awash with bunting and memorabilia. We made our way to the beach, passing the memorial to the Canadians who were killed liberating the town. Of course, photos were taken, after I had been persuaded to don my medals. That did it. I had become a VIP for the day. The French call it 鈥渟wimming in oil.鈥� The boys left me alone for a short while and I fulfilled a promise made to my niece Jane to say a prayer for my brother George who died after service in the Burma campaign. I also thanked God for my safe return from the war and asked His blessing on all the young Canadian volunteers whose remains lie in the Canadian cemetery outside Courseulles. David thoughtfully found a small piece of sandstone as a memento for me, then we left the beach.

We couldn鈥檛 find a place for lunch. Everywhere was crowded so we went to a charcuterie, bought some Quiches and went into the countryside to eat our lunch in peace, washing it down with water. We had parked by a former washhouse where women used to bring their dirty clothes and wash them in the stream, banging them on flat stones to get the dirt out. While we were eating, a friendly Frenchman stopped to tell us there would be a ceremony there shortly in memory of some French Canadians who had been killed at the very spot. We had already planned to go back to the beach for the unveiling of a plaque in memory of the Canadians who fell at Graye-sur-Mer which is a small village at the western end of Juno so we left before the local mayor and his party arrived.

Before going to the ceremony by the beach we decided to take a look at a huge Croix de Lorraine which has two cross bars and was Joan of Arc鈥檚 emblem. It was adopted by General de Gaulle鈥檚 Free French Forces during the German Occupation. It is made of shining stainless steel sections. At a guess the monument must be about sixty feet in height. Beside the cross is a concrete obelisk with the words of de Gaulle鈥檚 broadcast to the French nation from London, beginning with the well known 鈥淟a France a perdu une bataille. Mais Ia France n鈥檃 pas perdu Ia guerre!鈥� - France has lost a battle but she has not lost the war! Another stone gave the list of the 14 nations whose troops took part in Operation Overlord. After sitting on a seat for a while we went back to the beach road where a Canadian Military Band, American and British troops were assembling. I had a few words with one of the British officers. His platoon had come from Germany for the Commemoration. I asked him if the British were well received in Germany. He smiled and said that indeed they were, adding that he had a beautiful German wife and two lovely children! So much for the idea of countries remaining sworn enemies. Only power-hungry politicians promote that theory. Ordinary people don鈥檛 want wars. They know there are no ultimate winners.

After standing about for some time while the VIPs gathered and the local villagers sauntered to the scene, the soldiers formed up and marched the short distance to the Memorial to the Royal Winnipeg Rifles and the Canadian Scottish who suffered heavy casualties in liberating 鈥渙ur village鈥� - perhaps unfortunately translated as 鈥渢his village鈥� in English beneath the French inscription. The local Mayor delivered a speech in excellent English and a British padre said a prayer of dedication before the stone was jointly unveiled by a veteran and a little local girl - a symbol of hope for the future. Then the veteran spoke about his arrival on the beach on D Day and finally the Band played 0 Canada, the Marseillaise and God save the Queen. I unashamedly found that very moving. We then moved a hundred yards or so to a Churchill tank which had remained in a shell hole on the beach for four or five decades or more before being dug out and restored. The veteran then delivered the same homily he had told us at the memorial stone. The lady interpreter nudged him gently. Unperturbed, he smiled and said the part of his speech about the hope for lasting peace was worth repeating! He had been a Major in 1944 and must have been at least 10 years older than me so he was probably in his nineties. Everyone laughed, then applauded. It was what we Cornish would call a 鈥減roper job.鈥�

After the ceremony we drove a few miles to a seaside village called Grandcamp Maisy as Mme Beck had told us there would be a firework display there. We found a cafe on the esplanade and decided it would be a good place from which to watch the event. We were told we would have to wait about half an hour before the meal would be ready so settled down with an aperitif to watch the world go by. While waiting a Pipe Band marched along the road and stopped to play outside the caf茅 before dispersing to take refreshment in our bar. David informed me that the men were Dutch! He gathered from listening to their conversation they were a band of enthusiasts who admired the Scottish way of life and had come from Holland to entertain the veterans. We waited a while longer until it became apparent the meal we had ordered was not forthcoming. The staff just could not cope with the numbers, so we left and went to a cr茅perie Tom had spotted earlier and had a delicious meal of pancakes. We left just in time to enjoy the fireworks. It was a very impressive display. We got back to the Manoir long after midnight.

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