Monday, October 02, 2006
An Experiment In Narrative
A gale swept the English Channel as it usually does at this time of year. What was unusual was the number of boats in the water. They were there yesterday, but were sent back because the weather was too nasty. Plus, they didn’t want to be detected by the enemy. That would be even nastier.
The HMS Empire Javelin precariously held its precious human cargo as it rocked up and down with the waves. Many of the men on deck were on the side throwing up what was left of a good meal. They weren’t used to sea travel. The first time many of them were ever on a boat was when they crossed the Atlantic on the Queen Mary over 18 months ago. Now, they were set for the greatest adventure of their lives.
Among the soldiers on the deck of the Empire Javelin were a set of twin brothers, Roy and Ray Stevens, both Sergeants of the 29th Infantry Division, 116th Regiment, Company A. Each would board a different landing craft. Before they did, they met each other to say good-bye and good luck. Ray Stevens held out his hand for his brother to shake. Roy refused.
“I’ll shake it at the Vierville crossroads.”
“I’m not going to make it.”
“Don’t talk nonsense! Of course, you’re going to make. And, so will I.”
“No I’m not. Would you shake my hand?”
“We’ll meet at the crossroads and we’ll shake hands then.”
With that, Roy Stevens saw his brother turn away and board his landing craft. His own craft, LC 911, would lead the attack along with LC 910. LC 910 held the commanding officer of Company A, Captain Taylor Fellers. He was the head of the company since its inception. Company A was made mostly of men from Bedford, Virginia. This included four pairs of brothers, the Hobacks (Bedford and Raymond), the Parkers (Earl and Joseph), the Powers (Jack and Clyde) and the Stevens twins (Ray and Roy).
Captain Fellers knew most of his men all his life. He grew up with them and wouldn’t miss the chance of leading them on the charge to the beach. He even left his sickbed so he would be with them. His reasoning was that he didn’t want to have to go back and face the families of the fallen if he didn’t go with them. Yet, he had a strange foreboding.
One reason for this was his men were green. They had never seen combat. Yet, they were the ones to lead the charge. They would be the first wave on D-Day. The first to land. The first to die. So, Fellers had to be with his men.
Another reason for his foreboding was when he saw a scale model of the landing area. Company A, the 116th Regiment, in fact, the whole 29th Infantry were to land on the extreme western portion of Omaha Beach – nicknamed Dog Green. They would be the right flank of the invasion force. But, this wasn’t the reason for Fellers’ uneasiness.
The objective of Company A and the subsequent waves of incoming soldiers was to capture a draw, or gully, that led to the village of Vierville-sur-Mer. The entrance to the Vierville draw was surrounding by German gun emplacements within the overlooking cliffs. These emplacements gave the defenders access to the full field of the beach – to the left and the right. Anyone entering this area would be caught in a vicious crossfire.
Instinctively, Captain Fellers knew this but didn’t want to express his concerns to his men. He only told a fellow officer of his feelings. Other than that, like a good soldier, he followed orders.
The landing craft were then lowered into the water. They were 12 miles offshore. The head naval officer and his men jokingly – and proudly – referred to themselves and their American cargo as the “Suicide Wave”. British humour always has a black streak to it!
The original plan for the attack was for planes to drop bombs on the beach, leaving it pockmarked with craters and the cliffs devastated by direct hits. There shouldn’t be too many defenders if the bombs hit their mark. Next, tanks were supposed to go across the channel and drive the defenders off the beach. Then, the infantry would land and mop up what was left.
The first thing the men of Company A noticed was that the landing craft holding the tanks were taking a long time crossing the channel. When their own craft passed the tanks, they knew this wasn’t good. The initial wave would be heading for the shore without armored support – without any support.
As they went within a mile of the shore, the landing craft was bombarded by mortars. One of the craft started to sink. This was LC 911, Roy Stevens’ boat. By some miracle, all but one of the men survived the sinking. They wouldn’t make it to France that day afterall. So, they waited in the water for any returning landing craft to pick them up and send them back to England.
This left LC 910 to lead the charge, followed by four others. When they were but 500 yards from shore, Fellers ordered his men to get up. The cargo doors opened, and the men stepped out in 4 feet of water holding their rifles over their heads. They noticed that the beach had no craters. The bombs must have missed. Damn Air Force! But, they had their orders, and waded further towards the shore.
Meanwhile, within the cliffs, the Germans had been watching the soldiers leave their boats and wade to shore, not firing until their officers gave the orders at the opportune time.
Then, the slaughter began.
Within minutes, all the men of LC 910, Captain Fellers and 29 others were killed in the crossfire of machine guns. Soldiers from the other landing craft fared only slightly better, meaning only a handful of them survived. Company A was devastated. The lucky few were able to reach the seawall and wait it out.
Then, it was Company B’s turn. (These were men from Lynchburg, Virginia, 25 miles southeast of Bedford.) However, they would be fired on as soon as they were to leave the boats. Again, like Company A, they were devastated. When Companies C and D noticed that the obstacles were still in place, their landing craft moved eastward toward Dog White beach. It wasn’t as heavily defended as Dog Green, but it too was a slaughter.
Eventually, 3 hours after the initial assault, remnants of the 116th Regiment, led by General Cota and Colonel Canham were able to breach the defenses at Dog White and form an ever-so-modest beachhead. They were able to capture the Vierville draw from behind.
When it was all over, over 2,000 men lay dead, and thousands of others were wounded or missing. But, it was deemed a success because the invasion of Fortress Europa had begun. The initial beachhead was formed through which the invading army would liberate France and the rest of occupied Europe from the Nazi menace.
But, the price was too much for some. Four days after the assault, Roy Stevens and Clyde Powers landed on what was left of the beach. The build-up had begun, but they had a mission to look for their brothers. They found them in the make-shift cemetery at Colville-sur-Mer located at the eastern end of Omaha Beach. They didn’t dare tell their families. That would be the U.S. Government’s duty.
Six weeks later, in the town of Bedford, the Western Union operator at Green’s Drugstore turned on the telegraph machine. The first message that came through from the main office at Roanoke was “We have casualties”. Stunned, the telegraph operator saw the ticker tape roll out continuously. She didn’t know when it would be over. Her first concern was to get these notices delivered. Cautiously, she asked the customers in the drugstore to deliver the news to the families.
When it was over, Bedford was in mourning. In all, there were 22 men killed in action – 19 on D-Day. Among these were Captain Fellers, the two Hoback boys, Earl Parker (brother of Joseph, who would later get killed in the Normandy Campaign), Jack Powers (brother of Clyde) and Ray Stevens (brother of Roy). Earl Parker left behind a wife and a daughter whom he never had a chance to see. His and Raymond Hoback’s bodies were never found. Eleven other Bedford men were wounded during the Normandy Campaign – six on D-Day.
For a town of 3,000 people, the loss of 19 men on D-Day gave Bedford the dubious honor of having the largest per capita loss of any community in the United States. This would be the equivalent of losing 45,000 New Yorkers today. (In fact, we almost had that kind of loss not too long ago.) Most of the people, including the survivors, went on with their lives. But, many of them didn’t talk about it – didn’t want to talk about it.
Fifty years later, many started to talk mainly because they realized someone had to tell what happened before they were all gone. We have survivors so the fallen will be remembered. A number of them went to the 50th Anniversary of the landings. Among these was Roy Stevens who made it a point of going to the Vierville crossroads where he held out his hand for his brother Ray to shake.
Meanwhile, Ray Stevens and over 9,000 of his fellow soldiers rest in Colville-sur-Mer forever facing westward – forever facing home.
The HMS Empire Javelin precariously held its precious human cargo as it rocked up and down with the waves. Many of the men on deck were on the side throwing up what was left of a good meal. They weren’t used to sea travel. The first time many of them were ever on a boat was when they crossed the Atlantic on the Queen Mary over 18 months ago. Now, they were set for the greatest adventure of their lives.
Among the soldiers on the deck of the Empire Javelin were a set of twin brothers, Roy and Ray Stevens, both Sergeants of the 29th Infantry Division, 116th Regiment, Company A. Each would board a different landing craft. Before they did, they met each other to say good-bye and good luck. Ray Stevens held out his hand for his brother to shake. Roy refused.
“I’ll shake it at the Vierville crossroads.”
“I’m not going to make it.”
“Don’t talk nonsense! Of course, you’re going to make. And, so will I.”
“No I’m not. Would you shake my hand?”
“We’ll meet at the crossroads and we’ll shake hands then.”
With that, Roy Stevens saw his brother turn away and board his landing craft. His own craft, LC 911, would lead the attack along with LC 910. LC 910 held the commanding officer of Company A, Captain Taylor Fellers. He was the head of the company since its inception. Company A was made mostly of men from Bedford, Virginia. This included four pairs of brothers, the Hobacks (Bedford and Raymond), the Parkers (Earl and Joseph), the Powers (Jack and Clyde) and the Stevens twins (Ray and Roy).
Captain Fellers knew most of his men all his life. He grew up with them and wouldn’t miss the chance of leading them on the charge to the beach. He even left his sickbed so he would be with them. His reasoning was that he didn’t want to have to go back and face the families of the fallen if he didn’t go with them. Yet, he had a strange foreboding.
One reason for this was his men were green. They had never seen combat. Yet, they were the ones to lead the charge. They would be the first wave on D-Day. The first to land. The first to die. So, Fellers had to be with his men.
Another reason for his foreboding was when he saw a scale model of the landing area. Company A, the 116th Regiment, in fact, the whole 29th Infantry were to land on the extreme western portion of Omaha Beach – nicknamed Dog Green. They would be the right flank of the invasion force. But, this wasn’t the reason for Fellers’ uneasiness.
The objective of Company A and the subsequent waves of incoming soldiers was to capture a draw, or gully, that led to the village of Vierville-sur-Mer. The entrance to the Vierville draw was surrounding by German gun emplacements within the overlooking cliffs. These emplacements gave the defenders access to the full field of the beach – to the left and the right. Anyone entering this area would be caught in a vicious crossfire.
Instinctively, Captain Fellers knew this but didn’t want to express his concerns to his men. He only told a fellow officer of his feelings. Other than that, like a good soldier, he followed orders.
The landing craft were then lowered into the water. They were 12 miles offshore. The head naval officer and his men jokingly – and proudly – referred to themselves and their American cargo as the “Suicide Wave”. British humour always has a black streak to it!
The original plan for the attack was for planes to drop bombs on the beach, leaving it pockmarked with craters and the cliffs devastated by direct hits. There shouldn’t be too many defenders if the bombs hit their mark. Next, tanks were supposed to go across the channel and drive the defenders off the beach. Then, the infantry would land and mop up what was left.
The first thing the men of Company A noticed was that the landing craft holding the tanks were taking a long time crossing the channel. When their own craft passed the tanks, they knew this wasn’t good. The initial wave would be heading for the shore without armored support – without any support.
As they went within a mile of the shore, the landing craft was bombarded by mortars. One of the craft started to sink. This was LC 911, Roy Stevens’ boat. By some miracle, all but one of the men survived the sinking. They wouldn’t make it to France that day afterall. So, they waited in the water for any returning landing craft to pick them up and send them back to England.
This left LC 910 to lead the charge, followed by four others. When they were but 500 yards from shore, Fellers ordered his men to get up. The cargo doors opened, and the men stepped out in 4 feet of water holding their rifles over their heads. They noticed that the beach had no craters. The bombs must have missed. Damn Air Force! But, they had their orders, and waded further towards the shore.
Meanwhile, within the cliffs, the Germans had been watching the soldiers leave their boats and wade to shore, not firing until their officers gave the orders at the opportune time.
Then, the slaughter began.
Within minutes, all the men of LC 910, Captain Fellers and 29 others were killed in the crossfire of machine guns. Soldiers from the other landing craft fared only slightly better, meaning only a handful of them survived. Company A was devastated. The lucky few were able to reach the seawall and wait it out.
Then, it was Company B’s turn. (These were men from Lynchburg, Virginia, 25 miles southeast of Bedford.) However, they would be fired on as soon as they were to leave the boats. Again, like Company A, they were devastated. When Companies C and D noticed that the obstacles were still in place, their landing craft moved eastward toward Dog White beach. It wasn’t as heavily defended as Dog Green, but it too was a slaughter.
Eventually, 3 hours after the initial assault, remnants of the 116th Regiment, led by General Cota and Colonel Canham were able to breach the defenses at Dog White and form an ever-so-modest beachhead. They were able to capture the Vierville draw from behind.
When it was all over, over 2,000 men lay dead, and thousands of others were wounded or missing. But, it was deemed a success because the invasion of Fortress Europa had begun. The initial beachhead was formed through which the invading army would liberate France and the rest of occupied Europe from the Nazi menace.
But, the price was too much for some. Four days after the assault, Roy Stevens and Clyde Powers landed on what was left of the beach. The build-up had begun, but they had a mission to look for their brothers. They found them in the make-shift cemetery at Colville-sur-Mer located at the eastern end of Omaha Beach. They didn’t dare tell their families. That would be the U.S. Government’s duty.
Six weeks later, in the town of Bedford, the Western Union operator at Green’s Drugstore turned on the telegraph machine. The first message that came through from the main office at Roanoke was “We have casualties”. Stunned, the telegraph operator saw the ticker tape roll out continuously. She didn’t know when it would be over. Her first concern was to get these notices delivered. Cautiously, she asked the customers in the drugstore to deliver the news to the families.
When it was over, Bedford was in mourning. In all, there were 22 men killed in action – 19 on D-Day. Among these were Captain Fellers, the two Hoback boys, Earl Parker (brother of Joseph, who would later get killed in the Normandy Campaign), Jack Powers (brother of Clyde) and Ray Stevens (brother of Roy). Earl Parker left behind a wife and a daughter whom he never had a chance to see. His and Raymond Hoback’s bodies were never found. Eleven other Bedford men were wounded during the Normandy Campaign – six on D-Day.
For a town of 3,000 people, the loss of 19 men on D-Day gave Bedford the dubious honor of having the largest per capita loss of any community in the United States. This would be the equivalent of losing 45,000 New Yorkers today. (In fact, we almost had that kind of loss not too long ago.) Most of the people, including the survivors, went on with their lives. But, many of them didn’t talk about it – didn’t want to talk about it.
Fifty years later, many started to talk mainly because they realized someone had to tell what happened before they were all gone. We have survivors so the fallen will be remembered. A number of them went to the 50th Anniversary of the landings. Among these was Roy Stevens who made it a point of going to the Vierville crossroads where he held out his hand for his brother Ray to shake.
Meanwhile, Ray Stevens and over 9,000 of his fellow soldiers rest in Colville-sur-Mer forever facing westward – forever facing home.
