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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]
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WALL - IN MEMORY OF: [See all Messages]
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]
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]
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Private First Class Donald F. Wilson

1st Infantry Division
16th Infantry Regiment
2nd Battalion
Company F

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I watched as the first salvo of rockets launched, sort of fluttering as they rose like quail into the air. Other salvos followed at intervals. Looking toward the beach for the results, all I saw was successive rising plumes of white water. The son of a bitch had fired them all short, didn't bring the boat in close enough, with the fixed range, not one salvo made the sand, much less up to the bluffs. A few minutes later, the LCT was headed back out to sea, a case of lousy range estimation or, more likely, loss of nerve. So, no smoke and sand in the air, no holes, no open emplacements or wire taken out, bad news, for which we would pay a terrible price. Everyone crouched down during the last few hundred yards; we could hear intermittent artillery fire and more constant small arms fire coming from the shore. Finally, we lurched to a stop as our craft touched down.
The ramp dropped and, as it did, two or three of the people up front appeared to collapse, while one simply held onto the top edge of the hull. Both Williams and I shouted, “Move! Move! Move!” once off the ramp and in the water, we began to spread out, moving forward. I could see dry beach some distance ahead, but evidently our boat beached on a sand bar for, in moving forward, the water was getting deeper. When it finally reached my chin, I inflated the CO2 - charged lifebelt which popped me above the water, from the waist up. The water surface was being splattered with intense machine gun fire, a number of the team had been hit already; some were killed outright.
To reduce my exposure, I used my trench knife to puncture the lifebelt, and somehow I found sand under my feet. Shouted back to Pete Loney who was carrying the .30 caliber machine gun, asking if he were okay. No sooner had he said that he was, when he seemed to be driven backward by some unseen blow, slowly sinking under water. I moved ahead, out of the surf and perhaps ten yards on the sand, using an obstacle -- a cluster of railroad track angled into the sand, as my cover.
The bluffs were still quite a long distance away; we could not see any targets, but I fired my carbine anyway. From behind, “Maxie” Goldsmith called out to me that the mortar and the rest of the crew were gone. He was still carrying ten or twelve mortar rounds in pouches over his shoulders, which I told him to dump. Our LCVP had been hit and smoke billowed from the engine compartment. The coxswain's body was draped over the wheel. With the ramp down, I could look back and see two bodies on the deck, one of which was semi erect against the side. He was apparently hung up on something and swayed back and forth as the boat drifted on the swells. I watched as the remaining team members tried to carry out the attack plan. Several riflemen moved forward, trying to zig ten yards, hit the sand, and then zag ten yards, but machine guns were on them by the second stop.
Joe Spechler took off with a twenty-five pound TNT satchel charge in his hand and another on his back. He ran some thirty yards and exploded, obliterated as little bits of the burlap used to strap the TNT blocks together, fluttered down and lay smoldering on the sand.

Posted: July 16, 2011
Copyright: Laurent Lefebvre