Plan a trip :
      
      
NEWS: [See all News]
Raymond S. HOBACK - 29th Division.
Bedford Boys Fallen - Raymond Samuel HOBACK never had a chance to reach 100 years old today. Instead, he sacrified his life for our freedom... Raymond may have made it out of his landing craft, but he never made it to shore. Others recall seeing his body in the water. Bedford also failed to make in on the beach. He was killed by an exploding 88mm shell. Their time in the battle could be measured in minutes... [American D-Day facebookRead more...
[Posted: 2020-01-21 22:40:05]
RIP - Robert GIGUERE - Navy.
It is with heavy heart we learn the passing of Mr. Robert GIGUERE, a veteran of D-Day (Normandy)... He was 93... Four days earlier, Giguere rode across the choppy English Channel toward the Normandy coast with the Sixth Naval Beach Battalion. When his carrier grounded on the beach, a Teller mine detonated from beneath and tore through the ship's hull, Killing several soldiers below deck... [American D-Day facebookRead more...
[Posted: 2020-01-21 22:58:23]
   1 - 2 / 25 news   
WALL - IN MEMORY OF: [See all Messages]
WOLTERS HENRY H
1ST INFANTRY DIVISION
Every time when I go to Normandy I pay my respect to Henry Herman Wolters and send the photo's from his grave to his Family.
Honored by Herman Wolters
[Posted: 2024-02-29 20:28:14]
PALMER SAMUEL C
29TH INFANTRY DIVISION
Samuel Clinton Palmer Service ID: 35803938 From: Tallega, Lee County, Ky Birth Date November 28, 1924 Casualty Date June 6, 1944 Army Corporal HQ Company, 2nd Battalion, 116 Infantry Regiment, 29th Infantry Division Casualty Type KIA - Kill in Action Location: Omaha Beach, Normandy, France
Honored by Jeffrey Palmer
[Posted: 2023-12-25 14:40:54]
   1 - 2 / 135 messages   
OMAHA BEACH MEMORIAL - TESTIMONIES
Partager
2nd Lieutenant Vincent E. Baker

58th Field Artillery Battalion


View folder

We headed for France in the early morning hours of June 5, but the weather was so bad that we turned around and headed back to the harbor. I’d taken some seasick pills but with Colonel McQuade’s repeated warnings about the German machine-gun nests uppermost in my mind, I had decided not to eat anything in case I was gut-shot. Later that evening, we pulled out of the harbor again. H-Hour was at 0630 hours. The 58th’s guns were scheduled to land at H+90 minutes.
All night on our radios we could hear Axis Sally saying, "Invasion calling." She kept saying it over and over, drawing out those two words in an eerie, high-pitched voice. Around 0700, I read letters from General Eisenhower and President Roosevelt to the men on my LCT. We were supposed to land on Dog White. Later we learned that the current had pulled us off course, and we wound up landing on Easy Red.
Nothing went as planned. Our Navy skipper had gotten the hell shot out of him during the invasion of Italy, and he wanted to dump us and get out of there. He started letting the ramp down prematurely, which exposed us to the Germans’ machine-gun fire. I didn’t have long to worry about it, though. One minute I was crouched behind the LCT’s lowering ramp, rifle in one hand and lead rope in the other. The next minute, I was hurtling through the air sans rifle and rope. We’d hit an underwater mine. It had blown the ramp off and sent me flying. I felt weightless, which seemed impossible given my boots and heavy equipment. When I landed in front of the crippled LCT, it occurred to me that I was dead meat if the current pulled me under and the propellers caught me up. My clothing inflated, keeping me afloat, and I could hear bullets hitting the side of the craft and men in the water screaming for help.
"Need a hand?" someone hollered at me. I looked up and saw one of the Navy crewmen looking down at me over the side of the beached LCT. The sailor threw me a line and pulled me aboard. Except for the two of us, the craft was deserted. The water was knee-deep. None of our self-propelled guns had debarked.
The sailor offered me an almost empty bottle of bourbon. I grabbed it and took a swig. When I tried to hand the bottle back, he shook his head and said, "You finish it. I’ve had plenty."
I finished the whiskey, jumped off the landing craft and started wading to shore. The water was blood red. On the beach, bullets were flying, tanks were burning and men were bunched up behind the seawall. I took shelter in a shell crater, trying to get my bearings. The Germans at the top of the bluffs had their machine guns trained on every inch of the sand. I knew if I stayed there, I’d be killed, so I took off running toward the seawall.

Posted: July 16, 2011
Copyright: Laurent Lefebvre