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D-Day

It was 1941 when I was directed to report to an experimental establishment on the mouth of the Thames. It was my first venture beyond the boundaries of Wales. From afar I had seen the night sky light up as Swansea became the Coventry of Wales. My experience had been remote. Breaking my journey in London I found myself that night entering what seemed like the gates of hell as that great city received its nightly baptism of incendiary and bomb. Following a sleepless terrifying night I staggered the following day to my destination.

I found that the establishment to which I had been assigned manned by all three services. I, however, had become a member of that peculiar group known as boffins. However, the distinction was lost on the ranges and we took our turn at night guard duty facing the mouth of the Thames and beyond to the English Channel.

Time went by. Bomber was followed by the ‘Doodle bug’ to be followed by the first V2’s. During this time we had noticed the occasional concrete block floating on the Thames — a Mulberry Harbour. Their numbers grew. Slowly at first. Suddenly the rate of growth accelerated and we became tense with awareness of the impending D-day.

Then one day we woke to find the river empty. That night, whilst on guard duty, I heard the sonorous beat of aircraft engines. There was nothing strange about that. This sound we had heard every night. Firstly the direction was towards London. Then the direction was reversed as our bombers set out for Germany. The sound had become part of the night scene. But this time there was something different, something strange. Superimposed on the usual sound of aircraft was a steady whispering like that of a breeze over a field of corn. I looked up and with a rush of adrenaline I felt as if the hair on my head had stood on end. The natural night sky was obliterated by the blackness of row upon row upon row of gliders. This was it. This must be the prelude to D-day. I silently prayed then for all those men, no older than I, flying into the unknown.

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