D-Day
As the men, who were in reality not much more than boys, sat in the LCVP (Landing Craft Vehicle and Personnel) looking toward the beach, they knew that they had just one objective…get to that beach and start fighting. Nevertheless, their wide eyes likely betrayed their concerns about reaching the beach. They knew that many of them would not be returning from this mission, but they also knew that they would do their duty to their country and the world. While they were waiting for their turn, they could hear the gun fire. Still, when their turn came, they quietly left the relative safety of the boat and took to the water.
Many of the men drowned under the weight of their equipment, and that might have been a kinder sort of death. Those who didn’t drown would have the harder task of dodging the hail of bullets that were coming at 
them from everywhere. There really was no way to escape the bullets, because they couldn’t return to the boats, due to the men coming off behind them. They wouldn’t have turned and run anyway. That wasn’t the way of a brave soldier. They couldn’t run either, because the water they were wading through prevented any kind of fast movement. All they could do, was to slowly plod along, hoping that the bullets would somehow miss them, or miss any vital organs, thus sparing their lives.
For the soldiers who made it to shore, the bullets didn’t stop either. In fact, the firing grew heavier, and to make matters worse, the soldiers firing on them were safely tucked in reinforced concrete pillboxes that were built along the beaches. These housed machine guns, antitank guns, and artillery ranging in size up to the large 40.6 cm naval guns. The intent was to destroy Allied landing craft before they could unload, so their range was long enough to reach well into the path of the disembarking soldiers. While we all know the outcome of this very important and necessary battle, the cost was also great. Dodging bullets, while a great idea, is no easy 
task, and most people who attempt it, ultimately fail. We are proud and thankful to the brave soldiers who fought and died that day. Approximately 4,414 Allied soldiers died during the invasion, including 2,501 American, 1,449 British, 391 Canadian, and 73 from other allied countries. Their sacrifice proved that when faced with the impossible, these men would not give up. That is courage!! That is bravery!! That is the mark of a true soldier!!
Memorial Day is the day that we honor our fallen soldiers. Many people mistakenly think that it is a day to honor veterans and active-duty soldiers too, but it is not. This day is just for those soldiers who gave all…gave their lives for freedom. One that comes to my mind is my uncle, Jim Richards older brother, Daile Richards, who gave his life at Normandy, France. That operation was one of the most shocking attacks to me, because these men who “stormed the beaches of Normandy” were basically sitting ducks…or running ducks anyway. Their task was to leave the relative safety of the boats and swim to the beach. Then, they were to attack the strongholds there. The fatalities on that day numbered between 5,000 and 12,000. The discrepancy being those who were deemed missing. It was a horrible loss for the Allies, but it had to be done.
Those losses were in one battle alone. are just the tip of the iceberg, and the other losses are mind boggling to imagine. Nevertheless, every soldier that was lost in that battle or any other battle deserves our deep and abiding respect and appreciation for their sacrifice. They gave all…they gave their life, and if they hadn’t many more people would have been lost. We can never repay them or their families for their sacrifice, but we can forever remember what they did. Their sacrifice means everything in a war. Without that sacrifice, freedom is lost, and fear reigns. So, instead of saying Happy Memorial Day, I say thank you to the fallen soldiers and to their families.
Even in wartime, the public demands information…about everything. During World War II, the demand for information was being met by a correspondent named Ernie Pyle, who was also America’s most popular war correspondent. Ernest “Ernie” Taylor Pyle was born on August 3, 1900, on the Sam Elder farm near Dana, Indiana, in rural Vermillion County, Indiana. His parents were Maria (Taylor) and William Clyde Pyle. Ernie’s dad was a tenant farmer on the Elder property at the time of Ernie’s birth. As was common in those days, neither of Pyle’s parents attended school beyond the eighth grade. Ernie first began writing a column for the Scripps-Howard newspaper chain in 1935. His column was so interesting and widely loved, that it was eventually syndicated to some 200 US newspapers. The column related the lives and hopes of typical citizens, thereby capturing America’s affection. When the United States entered World War II in 1942, Pyle was a natural choice for war correspondent. His area of coverage was the North Africa campaign, the invasions of Sicily and Italy, and on June 7, 1944, he went ashore at Normandy the day after the Allied forces landed.
Pyle’s stories were different than tales of the battles the US participated in. They were always written about the 
experiences of enlisted men instead. He described the D-Day scene as, “It was a lovely day for strolling along the seashore. Men were sleeping on the sand, some of them sleeping forever. Men were floating in the water, but they didn’t know they were in the water, for they were dead.” It was a devastatingly poignant story, and that same year, he was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for distinguished correspondence, and in 1945 he traveled to the Pacific to cover the war against Japan.
Pyle could always be found among the men in the platoon he was covering. He wasn’t aloof, but rather he was one of them…sharing cigarettes and good conversations. Because Pyle was not military, he was able to go home when he wanted or needed to, and so he made a couple of trips home to take care of his wife, Geraldine “Jerry” when she was ill. Nevertheless, his heart was with the infantry, and so he returned to tell their story. Pyle wrote that he was especially fond of the infantry “because they are the underdogs.” To make his point, Pyle wrote a column from Italy in 1944 proposing that soldiers in combat should get “fight pay,” just as airmen received “flight pay.” In May 1944 the United States Congress passed a law that became known as the Ernie Pyle bill. It 
authorized 50 percent extra pay for combat service. Pyle was destined to leave a legacy in the world of infantry fighting, and on April 18, 1945, Ernie Pyle made his own “last stand” when he was killed by enemy fire on the island of Ie Shima. After his death, President Harry S Truman spoke of how Pyle “told the story of the American fighting man as the American fighting men wanted it told.” Pyle is buried at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific on the Hawaiian island of Oahu.
My uncle, Lester “Jim” Wolfe was in the Army during World War II, and as such, was among those who stormed the beaches of Normandy, France on D-Day (June 6, 1944), while my dad, Allen Spencer, his future brother-in-law, was among the B-17s flying cover in the skies above. Thankfully, both of them made it home, and became the men they were destined to be. I really can’t imagine growing up without knowing my Uncle Jim. He was a great guy, with a great sense of humor. He saw a lot of things in his lifetime, and so, he always had great stories to tell. To my child’s mind, my uncle seemed very knowledgeable in things, as did my dad. It was a different era than that of my own, and they knew different things as a result. I guess that is why they always seemed so wise to me.
While he had a lot of wisdom, Uncle Jim was also a great comedian too. He was always making jokes and loved 
to make and hear people laugh. Uncle Jim was a master storyteller, the finest there was. Whenever he began his tales, we’d gather around, eyes wide with amazement. It was always a mystery whether his stories were drawn from life or were pre fiction…until the punchline came. At that moment, we’d burst into laughter, exclaiming, “Oh! Uncle Jim!” He delighted in our reactions, which brought him great amusement. And on the topic of amusement, Uncle Jim was an old hand at tickling. He’d chase and tickle us whenever we pestered him…which, of course, meant we always did. We’d scamper off, trying to escape, though we never really did. Uncle Jim’s heart was as kind as his spirit was playful.
Uncle Jim was the kind of person who would help anyone in need, whether they were neighbors, friends, or even strangers. His generosity knew no bounds, and he was always ready to offer his assistance. His love for his family was his “above all” priority. He would protect his wife and children at all costs, both in words and actions. He was utterly devoted to them. When he decided to purchase land in Washington to build his final home, he ensured there was enough space for each of his children to have a place of their own nearby. He was determined that none of them would ever be without a home. The property he chose was atop a mountain, offering some of the most stunning views during the ascent. Even in his later years, as Alzheimer’s Disease necessitated his stay in a nursing home, he maintained his happy spirit. He delighted in brightening the day of the nursing staff and 
visitors alike, often engaging in harmless “mischief” around the nurses’ station. My sisters and I continue to hold him dear in our hearts. Thoughts of him always bring smiles to our faces. Uncle Jim passed away in 2013, reuniting with his beloved wife, my Aunt Ruth, and other departed family members. We’re comforted by the belief that they’re joyfully together, and we look forward to the day we’ll all be reunited. Today marks what would have been Uncle Jim’s 103rd birthday. Happy birthday in Heaven, Uncle Jim!! We love and miss you very much!!
Not every soldier that stormed the beaches at Normandy, France on D-Day (June 6, 1944), carried a gun…or any other weapon. I’m not saying these men were more brave that their armed counterparts, because all of those men were targets. They all knew, going in that it was very unlikely that they would come home again. They were running onto an armed beach in broad daylight, with the plan of taking down the strongholds that existed there. The main difference between the armed soldiers and the medics was the inability to protect themselves. The medics weren’t there to fight. They were there to save. The were the only thing standing between the armed soldiers and certain death. Just the thought of that brings tears to my eyes. All the men who stormed those beaches faced almost certain death, and yet they knew they had to go. They couldn’t live with themselves if they didn’t do their best, be it killing the enemy soldiers or saving the wounded soldiers.
Most soldiers are trained to shoot, fight, and kill the enemy, but a combat medic is very different. He is trained to do the exact opposite. The medics had no guns. They went in to “battle” unarmed, and their mission wasn’t to attack the enemy, it was to dodge the bullets that were flying everywhere and get to the soldiers who had been wounded. Then they tried to get them off the battlefield so they could treat their wounds, and hopefully save their lives. Sometimes, they had to treat them where they were. Bullets don’t distinguish between a soldier and a medic.
There are, of course, far too many medics who have bravely gone in to try to save other soldiers at the risk of losing their own lives. While the armed soldiers fight the battles, medics pick up the pieces during and after the battle. It’s the medics who gather up the belongings of those they cannot save, so they can be returned to the families. They don’t really have much time before they must move on to the next wounded soldier, and so often they grab the dog tags, because it is the only true way to know who this soldier was. It’s the only way to let their family know that their brave soldier gave the ultimate sacrifice in battle.
My dad, Staff Sergeant Allen Spencer was a top turret gunner and flight engineer in one of the B-17s that 
provided cover for the men as they stormed the beaches of Normandy that fateful day. My uncle, Jim Wolfe was one of the men below, storming the beaches. I don’t know if they knew each other then, but they would later, when my Uncle Jim married my dad’s sister, Ruth. It’s very hard to think about this battle, because so many lives were lost. I don’t know how anyone made it onto that beach without getting pelted with a barrage of bullets, but I am thankful for the medics who were there to try to pick up the pieces. Today marks the 80th anniversary of D-Day. From a grateful nation, we honor all who fought in that horrific battle. Very brave men all!!
I had never heard the expression, “war sand” before, but when I think about it, the presence of it makes perfect sense. It would be impossible to have any kind of a battle and not leave behind spent bullets, as well as bits of shrapnel from bombs littering the battlefield. In the case of the D-Day Battle, there were more that 5,000 tons of bombs that littered the beaches of Normandy. The beaches were literal chaos, and it was all they could do to rescue the wounded, recover the bodies, and remove the equipment, much less save bits of metal and spent bullets left behind. On D-Day, more than 5,000 tons of bombs were dropped by the Allies on the Axis powers as part of the prelude to the Normandy landings…and then there was the bullets and such that hit the beaches during the battle.
These days, scientists estimate that 4% of the Normandy beaches are made up of shrapnel from the D-Day Landings. They have studied the sand on the beaches of Normandy, and they’ve found microscopic bits of smoothed-down shrapnel from the landings. The sand on the Normandy beaches is known as “war sand,” which is defined as “sand that is a result from wartime operations.” I had heard of beaches that are made of glass that has been rubbed smooth by the water against the ground, but I hadn’t ever thought about the water being able to smooth the sharp bits of shrapnel to make them smooth. Nevertheless, the beaches of Normandy are 
covered in a fine dust created from particles deposited there during or right before the D-Day operations of World War II. The grains are hidden among the beaches of the Normandy. It makes me wonder how many other beaches have shrapnel and bullets as a secret part of their makeup.
Earle McBride, a geologist from the University of Texas at Austin, figures the sands shrapnel level at 4%. That doesn’t seem like much, but considering the years since D-Day, and the number of people who have walked those beaches, possibly looking for closure concerning lost loved ones, 4% is quite a bit. One might wonder how he could have come to that conclusion, but apparently the sand-sized fragments of steel are magnetic, making them easily discernible under a microscope. Of course, there are still relics from the battle. The artificial landscape of eroded machinery is still detectable using special instruments in the coastal dunes.
The shrapnel content of the beaches will eventually disappear. It is estimated that at the present rate of deterioration, the magnetic particles will probably be wiped from the sands in another 100 years. The shrapnel is subject to waves, storms, and rust, which will wipe these spherical magnetic shards from the coasts. 
Strangely, Earle McBride didn’t set out to find these shards, but a visit to Omaha Beach in 1988 resulted in the discovery of these tiny remnants of shrapnel. I wonder how he noticed the shrapnel. Oddly, the shards were collected 20 years ago and only analyzed recently. Why did it take so long to examine them? Of course, I have answered my own question. While he may have known what he had, it is possible that he really didn’t or at least didn’t know the significance of what he had. He might have simply collected the sand as a keepsake of his visit. Nevertheless, upon examination, the samples revealed that the jagged-edged grains had a metallic sheen and a rust-colored coating. The angular grains proved to be magnetic…they proved to be shrapnel from that long ago battle.
In a military operation, especially as part of a war, absolute secrecy is vital. Those involved with the planning have to know that they can trust everyone who is around them. One of the most important operations of World War II was the D-Day attack…Operation Overlord. Success was vital, and failure was simply not an option, no matter how many men were lost. The attack on Pearl Harbor had finally drawn the United States into World War II, and now we were in it to win it.
The success of any mission is found in the planning, so in August 1943, Franklin D Roosevelt and Winston Churchill met in Quebec for the first of two meetings code-named “Quadrant.” Technically, the meeting was the first of two “Quebec Conferences.” The meetings couldn’t even officially talk about the name of the actual operation, “Operation Overlord, which was later known as D-Day to the world. The Americans and the Brits had differences of opinion as to just how the operation was to be handled, but in order to make this operation work, they would have to be in complete agreement, and the mission would have to be kept completely covert!! No one could know the details.
Everyone, from the top men down to the paper supplier was screened to make sure of their loyalties. No stone was left unturned. If any information was leaked, thousands of men could die, and the fate of the world could have been severely compromised. Nevertheless, something was “missed” somehow. A young Canadian named Émile Couture was in charge of stationery supplies that fateful day, and in reality, he had no intention of being a traitor or playing any other nefarious part in the leak of information into the operation. Nevertheless, he managed to walk out of those meetings with the tactical plans for the invasions. It wasn’t even accidental…exactly.
Roosevelt and Churchill were excellent strategists, and their very detailed plans were perfectly laid out. The operation was going to be an amazing success. Now, all they had to do was to keep everything secret until the actual day, as yet unnamed, of the operation. The plans included detailed listings of Allied military assets to be used in the landings…the number of planes, combat cars, ships, and ground soldiers. They only had to keep it very quiet, because the leak of this information could have turned the tide of the war in favor of the Axis powers, and had that happened, our world would be vastly different even from the strange world we are experiencing today. Sergeant Major Émile Couture had been tasked with cleaning up after the meetings and instructed to make sure nothing was left behind.
Couture was doing his job in a meticulous fashion, but while cleaning an office on the third floor of the hotel, he discovered a leather portfolio that was inscribed “Churchill-Roosevelt, Quebec Conference, 1943. Maybe he thought it was just an empty portfolio, and so thought he could actually have an amazing souvenir of such a monumental meeting. Just think of the stories he could tell his children and grandchildren about the time he got to help out with such an important meeting between two of the most important men if his time. History doesn’t really tell us what he was thinking, but he decided to keep the portfolio as a souvenir without realizing what was actually in the portfolio. 
Couture walked out of the Château Frontenac without anyone being any the wiser and drove to the cottage where he was living with his cousins in Lac-Beauport just a few miles outside of Quebec City. Then he took time to examine his “treasure” only to find that he could actually be tried for treason. Couture was more than frightened. He was terrified, and he hid the files under his mattress overnight.
In the morning, knowing that he would have to face the music, he took the portfolio and its files to his superior, Brigadier Edmond Blais. Blais told Couture to go home and wait. He would be dealt with in the morning. Couture could have been put in prison for the remainder of the war in order to make certain that he did not leak the information he had seen. He was, after all, a low-ranking soldier, and shouldn’t have access to such top-secret information. Instead, he was sent home after being questioned by Scotland Yard and the FBI.
Whether Couture was terrified to say anything, or just an honorable soldier, he never leaked the information he had seen. Blais must have liked Couture, because he sent a letter on August 28, 1943, in which he recommended the Sergeant Major Émile Couture be awarded “the greatest accomplishment that can be given an NCO (non-commissioned officer).
On June 6, 1944, the Allies staged the largest amphibious military landing in history. Always remembered as D-Day, Operation Overlord saw 150,000 troops hit the beaches of Normandy, push back the German army and set the course for the eventual victory of the Allied forces. The secret of D-Day was kept, and the operation went off without a hitch.
Couture was rewarded for his discretion during a ceremony in September 1944, when he was commended for his actions by being granted a British Empire Medal. During the ceremony, there was no mention of what Couture had actually done to merit the award other than “services rendered.” I wonder if anyone thought that odd. Nevertheless, they really couldn’t tell, because it would have been embarrassing to the military for the public to see how easily someone walked out of the hotel with top secret documents.
Couture’s daughter, Anne Couture, insists that her father never told anyone. But someone did leak the story, and Couture became the center of the media’s attention. He gave several interviews over time, but he never told anyone whose office he had been cleaning when he found the documents or who he thought might have left them there. Though, Anne admits, he may have told her mother. If he did, Georgette Larochelle isn’t telling anyone, and in an effort to clear the record concerning her husband’s involvement in the whole incident. She has turned over all the memorabilia and documentation the family has kept over the years. It has all been donated to the Royal Museum and has been displayed in an exhibit since the 75th anniversary of the 2nd 
Quebec Conference.
According to the museum’s director and curator, the documents are “convincing and some of the artifacts are considered invaluable” to the museum. He called the personal items which were specially made for the conference, “a great witness of this event of national significance.”
Over the years, many people have collected postcards. Some like them for the scenic views, and some collect postcards that have been sent to them, saving them as mementos of family members who won’t always be with us. I have picked up lots of postcards for my sister, Cheryl Masterson, who has a collection. While this is a cool way to get great pictures of amazing places, postcards were once used as…intel.
Starting in 1942, as the BBC, as part of their planning of the D-Day attack, issued a public appeal for postcards and photographs of mainland Europe’s coast, from Norway to the Pyrenees. The British people were eager to help and began sending in postcards and pictures from their trips to France. Other families began searching through boxes of family photos, searching for anything that might show the beaches. Photos of kids building sandcastles, and people lounging on the beach flooded the BBC offices. While it all seemed like a fun project, the people had no idea that their family photographs would prove very instrumental in the D-Day landings. Within 36 hours, over 30,000 packs of pictures of the French coast arrived at the BBC offices. Even more incredible was the fact that by 1944, 10 million holiday snaps and postcards, hotel brochures, letters and guidebooks had arrived by post. Once there, the postcards and photographs were sorted, and the best ones were pinned to a board in a top-secret planning room. Then the army bosses began to study every inch of the beaches and landing areas where the Normandy invasion would go on to take on June 6, 1944.
The families who sent in their family photographs and postcards, had no idea what would come of their contribution. They weren’t told why their pictures were needed, just that it was an important project. Looking at the photographs now, the innocent snaps almost bring a feeling of deep sadness. Nevertheless, the photographs and postcards were instrumental and extremely important to the war effort. After looking at all the 
pictures, it was decided that the best place to carry out their plan was on the beaches at Normandy, France. Many of these postcards were used in briefings with officers, land craft operators and other infantry soldier to study and orient themselves based on their drop locations of the building and landmarks in these photos. Of course, the rest is history, and the operation to storm the beaches at Normandy was a great success.
I suppose I could be wrong, but I don’t recall ever seeing my uncle, Jim Richards get mad at anyone. He had always been a man with a gentle spirit, and one who is patient and kind to all the kids. I suppose his family might be able to sight a few times when I could be proven wrong, but I certainly don’t know of any. Uncle Jim is a quiet man, who could be just a little bit on the shy side, but when you talk to him, you can see the gentleness that lives inside him. He is soft-spoken and always there to help anyone who has a need. Many people would equate him to a big teddy bear, and I would have to agree with them. Uncle Jim has just that kind of personality.
Uncle Jim is a very caring man. He is always willing to help anyone who needs his help. He has taken care of various family members over the years, especially his mom. Uncle Jim’s dad passed away when he was young, and only a year after one of his brothers was killed during the D-Day invasion at Normandy, France. Uncle Jim’s caring spirit took over then, and he did whatever he could to help his mom and the rest of his siblings. He was just a young boy at the time. From that day forward, Uncle Jim worked very hard to do things in his life that he knew would make is dad proud of the man he was to become. he could have decided that since his dad was gone, he could act out, but he didn’t. He showed respect for his dad, by taking care of his mom, working hard, and taking care of others too. I can almost picture his 
dad looking down from Heaven on his son and smiling with pride at just how great he turned out. It’s definitely something to be proud of.
When Uncle Jim married my Aunt Dixie, he became my uncle, and a beloved member to our family. He has taken great care of his family, being there to help with transport of the grandchildren, and paying bill when his kids were at work and couldn’t get there to pay them. He helped out when Aunt Dixie ran a daycare and helped with the animals they had on their little place in the country. Uncle Jim was always someone that the family could count on, and we are all glad he is a part of our family. Today is Uncle Jim’s 85th birthday. Happy birthday Uncle Jim!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
In the final years of World War II, both the Allied and Axis Powers knew that there was no chance of defeating Hitler without cracking his grasp on Western Europe, and both sides knew that Northern France was the obvious target for an amphibious assault. Hitler’s army seemed to be everywhere. That said, the Allied forces knew they had to come up with a way to “fool” the leader of the Third Reich. Hitler arrogantly thought that he knew what the Allied forces were planning, and that was the best way to create his downfall. The German high command assumed the Allies would cross from England to France at the narrowest part of the channel and land at Pas-de-Calais. The Allies used that to their advantage and decided on the beaches of Normandy…some 200 miles to the west. The beaches of Normandy could be taken as they were, but if the Germans added to their defense by moving their reserve infantry and panzers to Normandy from their garrison in the Pas-de-Calais region, the invasion would be a disaster.
In what would become an ingenious plan, the Allied intelligence services created two fake armies to keep the Germans on their toes. One would wonder how they proposed to pull that off. The Allies created two “Ghost Armies.” One would be based in Scotland to create a supposed invasion of Norway and the other headquartered 
in southeast England to threaten the Pas-de-Calais. While the operation in Scotland relied mainly on fake radio traffic and the feeding of false information to double agents to create the impression of a substantial army, the southern “Ghost Army” had to seem much more real. The fortitude South was well within the range of prying German ears and eyes, so fake chatter alone would be uncovered too quickly. It had to look and sound like a substantial army was building up in southeast England. They needed boots on the ground there, without actually using too much of their precious manpower. That seems like a monumental task.
Enter George and his imaginary men. Patton was put in charge of leading a fake army, commonly known as the “Ghost Army” as part of a massive counterintelligence operation preceding D-Day. The “Ghost Army” was an army of inflatable tanks, rubber airplanes, and fake radio signals designed to trick the German army. The mission was insanely successful. The “Ghost Army” was a United States Army tactical deception unit used during World War II officially known as the 23rd Headquarters Special Troops. The 1100-man unit was given a 
unique mission within the Allied Army. Their orders…impersonate other Allied Army units to deceive the enemy. It was simple, but it wouldn’t be easy.
By the evening of June 6, 1944, in what would become known as D-Day, the First Army landed at Normandy. The battle was on, and without the extra troops Hitler might have sent if he wasn’t misled so completely. By June 23, 1945, the 23rd Headquarters Special Troops was on its way home after having served with four US armies through England, France, Luxembourg, Belgium, Holland, and Germany. During their tenure, they put on what many would call a “traveling road show” utilizing inflatable tanks, sound trucks, fake radio transmissions, scripts, and pretense. They staged more than 20 battlefield deceptions, often operating very close to the front lines. While their missions and their work were amazing, their story was kept secret for more than 40 years after the war, until it was declassified in 1996.
