To: 124, 2nd Avenue,
West Reading,
Pennsylvania.
From:
365th STA HOSP
Normandy,France
US Army Base
August 14th, 1994
Dear Mom and Dad,
I hope you are well with Rose and Emily. I’m truly sorry if I had worried you by not being regular with my letters recently. In fact, our troop was very busy. Our troop had invaded Normandy on the 6th of June, and had attacked the German Army which had forcefully occupied France. It was very successful and I hope you are proud of the fact that I now will be a part of history. I will be able to write back some letters for a while, since I’m stuck here in this hospital. Fortunately, I was almost unscathed with only an arm broken and I assure you that it will heal quite fast, so don’t worry.
The war was brutal and bloody but it was worth it. We, the Allied Forces, finally got control over the German base and made a huge impact on the German Army. My troop was sent to the Omaha beach, out of the five other coastal land marks. About 32,450 of our troops were sent there along with my team. The night before, nobody could sleep and rest and in the dawn everyone got up to get ready for the battle. I bet everyone was excited like small children as I was, since the date of the battle had been delayed due to the bad weather and the Omaha Beach was going to be the largest assault area. But we never knew how the battle would truly be like until we got closer to the battle field.
It was a four-mile stretch of sand between Point du Hoc and the town of Ste-Honorine-des-Petres. As we approached towards the beach, I could feel the tense atmosphere surrounding and suffocating us. The wind and the weather weren’t fully at our side yet and the current was rough; I could barely see anything due to the cloudy weather. We were supposed to step out of the landing craft once it had gotten near the beach but as we finally did, the shooting began. The enemies were prepared with funneled mortars, machine guns, and artillery for they had been waiting for us.
The battle was not as easy and adventurous as we thought. Bullets were shot everywhere. A heavy load of bombs poured down at us and as they crashed on to the surface, they made thundering sounds of explosion. (Please do not freak out by my vivid descriptions). The smell of the gun powder was horrible and I used all my energy on trying to swim ashore alive. I just hoped that I wouldn’t be bombed but could not do anything to protect myself from it. We could not get much help from our tankers because only 5 out of 32 tankers could make it ashore. Garbage and useless pieces of our bombed armors floated here and there. At first, I almost gave up hope and was convinced that I couldn’t make it alive when I saw what was happening around me. It was a shocking and formidable sight and I’m quite sure that I shall not forget the scene for the rest of my life. As I dragged myself out on the beach and started shooting at the enemy side. I did not care where I was shooting; I just kept on pulling the trigger of my M1 "Garand" rifle and pointed towards the German Army. It was reckless and that’s how I got my arm broken. Despite this negative aspect, my companions and I fought like lions. Our commanders, Omar Bradley and Clarence R. Huebner were troubled by their plans and strategies as they did not work out as successfully as it did on the other beaches. However, they had kept our morale high, so that when we landed on the beach, I was ready to fight for my country and freedom.
After all, the battle ended in a success and the survivors returned back to the army and most, to the hospitals like me, in tremendous triumph. When we were back in the army, there was a great contrast of emotions in the building; many were somber and bitter in loss of a good friend or a great commander, while some were jubilant and glorious, busy celebrating the victory. I was in both the moods. While I was proud that I actually survived through the battle and that our side had won, but on the other hand, I couldn’t help feeling poignant for my new friend whom I’ve made during the war. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make it. His fellow friends and I are planning to pray for him tomorrow morning.
Love,
Johnny
p.s. I’m so sorry that I had to send you such a terribly depressing letter but I’m not much in a cheery mood at this moment; I hope you don’t worry too much about me. It’ll pass soon. Please remind Rose and Emily that I really miss them and love them. I hope I can see you soon. I love you.
Image citation: http://www.mikelavella.com/portfolio/wd/Dreamweaver/Media/dday4.jpg
Resources: http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2004/may/28/secondworldwar.features111
http://www.britannica.com/dday/article-9389941
http://www.u-s-history.com/pages/h1749.html
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