大象传媒

This story has been written into 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 1 of 3

FRIDAY, 4th. JUNE

We left Millbay Docks just before midnight on Thursday, 3rd. June. It was a calm night so David, Tom and I stood on the boat deck watching the port recede into the distance. We knew there would be an early start in the morning so after a night-cap we retired to our cabins. Contrary to my expectations I didn鈥檛 make any comparisons in my mind with leaving Newhaven bound for Courseulles some sixty years previously. I suppose I have become rather blas茅 about crossing the Channel. At a guess I have done it almost a hundred times so in a way it has become commonplace. In addition there had been so much red tape to contend with that I could scarcely believe we were on our way. The Veterans鈥� Agency took ages to produce Identity Passes for us as there seemed to be some sort of security scare regarding movements within the area of the invasion beaches. In the end I was advised to nominate David as my carer and his business associate Tom as my driver. Not long before we were due to leave, the coveted documents arrived, much to my relief. They had taken three months to produce!

A couple of glasses of Cotes du Rh么ne had ensured a good night鈥檚 sleep during the crossing and almost before we realised it we were sitting in Tom鈥檚 BMW waiting to disembark at 0630. We decided we couldn鈥檛 start our journey without sampling a hot croissant and a bowl of delicious French coffee so we went into Roscoff and entered a small caf茅 where French early risers were already having their continental breakfast before going on to work. There is nothing in this world like the first taste and whiff of France in the early morning so we sat silently taking in the scene. After a while Tom reminded us we had a long journey ahead so we set out for Morlaix after saying our 鈥淎u revoirs鈥� to the friendly patron behind the bar.

It was really pleasant to be driven and not have to remind myself constantly of the need to stay on the wrong side of the road so I settled back to enjoy the scenery. By about ten o鈥檆lock, Tom felt the need for a break so we went off the autoroute and entered the tiny Port de Dahouet. On the Quai des Terre-Neuvas we found a pleasant caf茅 named Art et Saveur, which as the name implies provided food and a small number of pictures by local artists. The lady in charge had guessed where we were heading and warned us it would not be easy to get to the Normandy beaches but we assured her we had all the necessary papers. After a stroll round the basin which was crowded with yachts we set out once more for 鈥淟es Plages du D茅barquement.鈥� After a couple of hours driving we decided to pay a visit to St. Malo as we were making good progress and Tom needed another break. We found a car park close to the ramparts and after a glimpse of the scenery from the top of the ramparts and a stroll along the quay we had lunch in a nearby caf茅. It was difficult to resist a plate of Fruits de Mer but unfortunately the shell fish was not of the standard we are accustomed to eating in Falmouth. However the lamb was good and before long we were on our way again.

On consulting the road map we realised that Pointe du Hoc was just off the route for Saint Paul du Mont, our destination, so we did a detour and paid a visit to the spot where American Rangers scaled the cliff on D Day to capture the gun battery which was in a commanding position overlooking the approach to the invasion beaches. Unfortunately the coast has been eroded since the memorial to the Rangers was erected and it had been roped off. However we visited the gun emplacements and had a look at the steep climb that had to be achieved under cover of darkness. In the event the guns had been moved to a place further inland so the Rangers went on to attack them and unfortunately suffered heavy casualties as they were not able to be reinforced for some while. It was at Pointe du Hoc that we first encountered a troop of bogus American soldiers. I needed to know where the information board was located and asked a 鈥渟oldier鈥� if he could direct me. To my amazement he could not speak English so I switched to French and he told me. It appears there is quite a cult among young French people who purchase surplus US Army uniforms and vehicles and then go about the countryside visiting historic spots made famous during the Second World War. They even carry imitation firearms and set up camps in the invasion area. On taking a closer look, we realised that these 鈥渟oldiers鈥� were too untidy to be real servicemen and they certainly didn鈥檛 have the military bearing one associates with army men despite the fact that American soldiers are generally much more relaxed than their British allies! We were to see many more groups of enthusiasts who had gathered to be part of the celebration of victory over the Wehrmacht and in time I dubbed them the 鈥減hantom army鈥� but Tom鈥檚 favourite name was the 鈥減antomime army鈥�, especially when their convoys held us up on the narrow country roads.

A short journey took us to Saint Paul du Mont. When it became apparent that we were going to get the necessary documentation to take part in the Commemoration I had to try to find suitable
accommodation. Marion, David鈥檚 Dutch fianc茅e provided me with a list of Chambres d鈥檋么te. (B.& Bs.)
After half a dozen telephone calls and sending a number of e-mails, all of which proved unfruitful I began to despair of finding a place, then I received an e-mail saying there was a lady who had just started doing B.& B. and she might have room. To my delight, when I telephoned her, she agreed to have us. I think it might have been the last place with a spare room in the whole of Normandy. We were not disappointed when we arrived. Mme. Beck had omitted to tell me she lived on a farm which was a 16th. Century manor house, complete with protective walls and a dovecot to boot. She had even hung a Union Flag from the bedroom in honour of the arrival of 鈥漧es Anglais.鈥� That was really the beginning of a wonderful visit for me. As an 鈥淎ncien combattant鈥� I was treated like a film star, my wish was their command. It was quite incredible. In my telephone conversation with Mme. Beck I had asked her if she could provide an evening meal for us when we arrived. She agreed to do this and served an excellent dinner of roast chicken with all the trimmings, including a local aperitif named Pommeau which is a mixture of Normandy cider and Calvados. We learned later that Mme. Beck had been spotted chasing a fine pullet that very morning!

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