The Victors: Eisenhower and His Boys

by Stephen E. Ambrose

  About half of Smith’s battalion made it to the defilade afforded by the shingle embankment. Smith made contact with Brig. Gen. Willard Wyman, the assistant division commander. Wyman asked if the men were advancing by fire and movement, as taught at the Infantry School.

  “Yes, sir!” Smith snapped back. “They’re firing, we’re moving.”

  He followed the path made earlier that morning by Captain Dawson of G Company up the bluff. “Near the top, I can recall the most pleasant five-minute break of my military career. With our column at one of its temporary standstills, [Capt.] Hank [Hangsterfer, CO of HQ Company] and I moved to the side to sit down and eat apples provided by the ship’s mess. We also had time for a wee nip of Scotch whisky—my farewell gift from a little old English lady.”

  Smith set up the battalion CP beside a dirt road.I “About this time a telephone line reached me from regimental HQ at the base of the bluffs. Colonel [George] Taylor [CO of the 16th] asked about our situation and what he could do to help. I told him we could use tanks—the sooner, the better. He promised to do everything possible.”17

  It was 1100. Taylor ordered all tanks available to go into action up the E-3 draw. Capt. W. M. King got the order. He ran along the beach, notifying each tank as he came to it to proceed to E-3 and move up. When he reached the last tank, King found the commander wounded. He took over. Backing away from the shingle, King drove east, weaving in and out of the wreckage along the beach. He made about 200 meters when he hit a mine that blew the center bogie assembly off and broke the track. He went on to the exit on foot, where he found that, of the handful of tanks that had started for E-3, only three had arrived. Two of these were knocked out as they tried to force their way up the draw; the third backed off. E-3 was not yet open.

  Pvt. Ray Moon of the 116th reached the top about this time. “I looked back at the beach. The view was unforgettable. The beach was a shooting gallery for machine gunners. The scene below reminded me of the Chicago stockyard cattle pens and its slaughter house. We could see the men in the water and those huddled along the sea wall. There was little movement and all those below were sitting ducks for any trained marksmen and artillery observers.”18

  Mortar fire, artillery shells, and machine-gun fire continued to rain down on the beach. At higher HQ, Easy Red continued to look like a calamity. Gerow reported to Bradley, “Situation beach exits Easy still critical at 1100. 352nd Infantry Division (German) identified [this was the first that Bradley knew his men were up against the 352nd, which had been missed by Allied intelligence]. . . . Fighting continuous on beaches.”19

  But on the spot, things looked better. Colonel Talley of the Forward Information Detachment reported shortly after 1100, “Infiltration approximately platoon [strength] up draw midway between exits E-1 and Easy 3,” and a bit later, “Men advancing up slope behind Easy Red, men believed ours on skyline.”20

  • •

  One of those GIs on the skyline was Capt. Joe Dawson of G Company. How he got there is a story he tells best himself: “On landing I found total chaos as men and material were literally choking the sandbar just at the water’s edge. A minefield lay in and around a path extending to my right and upward to the crest of the bluff. After blowing a gap in the concertina wire I led my men gingerly over the body of a soldier who had stepped on a mine in seeking to clear the path. I collected my company at the base of the bluff and proceeded on. Midway toward the crest I met Lieutenant Spaulding.

  “I proceeded toward the crest, asking Spaulding to cover me. Near the crest the terrain became almost vertical. This afforded complete defilade from the entrenched enemy above. A machine-gun nest was busily firing at the beach, and one could hear rifle and mortar fire coming from the crest.

  “I tossed two grenades aloft, and when they exploded the machine gun fell silent. I waved my men and Spaulding to proceed as rapidly as possible and I then proceeded to the crest where I saw the enemy moving out toward the E-3 exit and the dead Germans in the trenches.

  “To my knowledge no one had penetrated the enemy defenses until that moment.

  “As soon as my men reached me we debouched from that point, firing on the retreating enemy and moving toward a . . . wooded area, and this became a battleground extending all the way into town.”

  In an analysis of how he became the first American to reach the top of the bluff in this area, written in 1993, Dawson pointed out: “The Battle of Omaha Beach was 1st, Deadly enemy fire on an exposed beach where total fire control favored the defender and we were not given any direct fire support from the Navy or tanks. 2nd, the poor German marksmanship is the only way I could have made it across the exposed area because I could not engage the enemy nor even see him until I reached the machine gun. 3rd, the fortunate ability to control my command both in landing together and debouching up the bluff together as a fighting unit. 4th, our direct engagement of the enemy caused him to cease concerted small-arms, machine-gun and mortar fire with which he was sweeping the beach below.”II

  • •

  While Dawson moved on Colleville, Spaulding went to the right (west), toward St.-Laurent. Spaulding spread his men over an area of some 300 meters and advanced. They spotted a German machine gunner with a rifleman on each side of him, firing down on the beach from their dugout. Sergeant Streczyk shot the gunner in the back; the riflemen surrendered. Spaulding interrogated the prisoners but they were ethnic Germans and refused to give any information. With the prisoners in tow, Spaulding moved west.

  “We were now in hedgerows and orchard country,” he told Sgt. Forrest Pogue of the Army’s Historical Division in a February 1945 interview. “We crossed through two minefields. No one was lost; we still had an angel on each shoulder.”

  The E Company platoon came upon a fortified position overlooking the E-1 draw. Sgt. Kenneth Peterson fired his bazooka into it but no one came out. Spaulding was about to move on when he spied a Tobruk.

  “Sergeant Streczyk and I went forward to investigate. We discovered an underground dugout. There was an 81mm mortar with beautiful range cards and lots of ammunition, and a position for a 75mm cannon, overlooking E-1 draw. The dugout was of cement, had radios, excellent sleeping facilities; dogs. We started to drop a grenade in the ventilator, but Streczyk said, ‘Hold on a minute,’ and fired three shots down the steps into the dugout. He then yelled in Polish and German for them to come out. Four men did. They brought out two or three wounded.”

  Germans from the other side of the draw began to fire on Spaulding’s platoon. The GIs fired back. American destroyers commenced firing into the draw (it was about 1000). Spaulding started down the line of communication trenches, which led to the cliff overlooking the beach. “We were now behind the Germans so we routed four out of a hole and got thirteen in the trenches. The trenches had Teller mines, hundreds of grenades, numerous machine guns.”

  Spaulding inspected the trenches. There, he admitted, “I did a fool thing.” He had lost his carbine when he landed, had picked up a German rifle only to discover he did not know how to use it, and had traded it to a soldier for another carbine. But he failed to check the carbine. In the trenches, “I ran into a Kraut and pulled the trigger, but the safety was on. I reached for the safety catch and hit the clip release, so my clip hit the ground. I ran about fifty yards in nothing flat. Fortunately, Sergeant Peterson had me covered and the German put up his hands. That business of not checking guns is certainly not habit-forming.”

  Spaulding tried to use the 81mm mortar but no one in his platoon could operate the German weapon. Meanwhile, he sent nineteen German prisoners back to the beach, guarded by two of his men. He told the men to turn the prisoners over to anyone who would take them and to ask where the rest of E Company was located. He set off his last yellow smoke grenade to let the American destroyers know that he had possession of the fortification, because “their fire was getting very close.”

  At this point, about 1030, Lieutenant Hutch and nine enlisted men caught up with Spaulding. “I was
very glad to see them,” Spaulding told Pogue. Hutch brought word that Spaulding should change his objective from St.-Laurent to Colleville, that is, head east instead of trying to cross the E-1 draw.21

  The terrain was flat, an area of apple orchards and hedgerows. Germans from the 352nd Division were present in company strength. The fighting now took on a new form. Instead of firing on the beach from the extensive trench system on the bluff, the Germans were hidden in hedgerows. Their main weapon was the fearfully effective MG-42. They had clear fields of fire over the open fields. The inexperienced GIs found it difficult to locate enemy fire positions in terrain affording so much cover, a difficulty exacerbated by sniper fire coming from no one could tell where. With no mortars, tanks, or supporting artillery, and with inadequate communications with the destroyers, the American infantrymen could advance hardly at all. Again and again, the E Company platoon ran into pockets of resistance in prepared positions built around machine guns dug in along the hedgerows. When Spaulding and Hutch bypassed such positions, the platoon got split up, so there was progressive loss of control. Still, they managed to move forward and catch up with and join Captain Dawson and G Company.

  • •

  Dawson was experiencing similar difficulties in moving on Colleville. Dawson led by example and gave orders that were simple, direct, impossible not to understand: “I said, ‘Men, there is the enemy. Let’s go get them.’ ”

  Company G worked its way to within a kilometer of Colleville. Dawson paused under a large oak tree. “There, a very friendly French woman welcomed us with open arms and said, ‘Welcome to France.’ ”

  Dawson advanced to the edge of Colleville. The dominant building, as always in the Normandy villages, was a Norman church, built of stone, its steeple stretching into the sky. “Sure enough,” Dawson noted, “in the steeple of the church there was an artillery observer.” He dashed inside the church with a sergeant and a private.

  “Immediately, three Germans inside the church opened fire. Fortunately, we were not hit by this burst. But as we made our way through the church the private was killed, shot by the observer in the tower. I turned and we secured the tower by eliminating him. My sergeant shot the other two Germans and thus we took care of the opposition at that point.”

  As Dawson ran out of the church, a German rifleman shot at him. Dawson fired back with his carbine, but not before the German got off a second shot. The bullet went through Dawson’s carbine and shattered the stock. Fragments from the bullet went through his kneecap and leg, which “caused my knee to swell and caused me to be evacuated the next day.”

  Beyond the church, G Company ran into heavy fire from a full German company occupying the houses in Colleville. Built of stone, the positions were all but impregnable to small-arms fire. G Company got into what Dawson called “a very severe firefight,” but could not advance.22

  It was shortly after noon. Maj. William Washington, executive officer of the 2nd Battalion, 16th Regiment, came up, arriving at about the same time as Spaulding’s platoon. Washington set up a CP in a drainage ditch just west of Colleville. He sent the E Company platoon to the right (south) of the village. Spaulding moved out and got separated from Dawson. Germans moved into the gap; in forty minutes Spaulding’s platoon was surrounded. Just that quickly, Spaulding realized that instead of attacking, he was being counterattacked. He set up a defensive position in the drainage ditches. Several squads of Germans came toward the platoon. Spaulding’s men were able to beat them off.

  Spaulding saw a runner coming from the battalion CP with a message from Major Washington. “The Germans opened fire on him. After he fell they fired at least a hundred rounds of machine-gun ammunition into him. It was terrible but we do the same thing when we want to stop a runner bearing information.”

  Spaulding’s platoon spent the remainder of the day in the ditches, fighting a defensive action. By nightfall, Spaulding was down to six rounds of carbine ammunition; most of his men were down to their last clip. The platoon was still surrounded.

  It had been the first platoon to take prisoners. It had eliminated several machine-gun posts on the bluff, and the Tobruk looking down the E-1 draw. It had landed with thirty men; by nightfall, two had been killed, seven wounded. Five men in the platoon were awarded DSCs, personally presented by General Eisenhower: they were Lt. John Spaulding, Kentucky; Sgt. Philip Streczyk, New Jersey; Pvt. Richard Gallagher, New York; Pvt. George Bowen, Kentucky; Sgt. Kenneth Peterson, New Jersey.23

  • •

  Major Washington dug in, expecting a major German tank counterattack, as he had experienced in Sicily. “We spent all night of the first day wrestling 57mm antitank weapons up the cliff with ropes with jeeps and winches and everything else.”

  By daylight, June 7, there had been no counterattack. What Washington did see at first light was astonishing enough: two GIs leading fifty German POWs into the American line. The Americans turned out to be privates who had been mislanded and captured by the Germans. Both American privates were of Polish extraction; the “German” soldiers were Polish conscripts; when darkness fell the GIs persuaded their captors to hide out in the bushes and surrender at first light.

  (Washington had a personal piece of good luck. War correspondent Dan Whitehead asked him how he got across the beach safely. Washington relates: “I don’t know what I told him, but it sounded good in print. He wrote that I said it was my wife’s prayers that carried me across the beach. So that went over good back home.”24)

  • •

  Casualties in the Easy Red sector were awful. In F Company, 16th Regiment, every officer and more than half the NCOs were down by the end of the day. The losses in the other platoons of E Company were almost as heavy. The carnage made an indelible impression on the S3, Capt. Fred Hall. He concluded his oral history with these words: “My wife and I walked Easy Red Beach in May 1982. It was soon enough to return.”25

  Spaulding fought on through the campaign in northwest Europe. He continued to provide inspired leadership and, as he told Pogue in the 1945 interview, he learned a lot about combat in the process that he wished he had known on D-Day. He was lucky, he said.26

  • •

  Most survivors from Easy Red have a “Lord was I lucky” story to tell. Sgt. John Ellery recalled that in the fighting outside Colleville, “I was about to climb through a break in the hedgerow when my ID bracelet on my right wrist got hung up on a rather sturdy piece of brush. I slid back down and broke off the branch to get loose. Meanwhile, a fellow from another company decided to pass by me and go on over. As his head cleared the top of the hedgerow, he took a round right in the face, and fell back on top of me, dead.”

  Ellery went looking for the sniper. “I evened the score. It was a clean shot and the only one that I fired on D-Day.”

  Ellery decided that he was hungry. He thought one of his apples would taste good. He dug around in his musette bag “and discovered that my apples had become applesauce. So I settled for a K ration, and enjoyed it. I enjoyed it so much that I decided to have another. It seemed to me that I wasn’t likely to outlast my supply of rations, so there was no point in going hungry.”27

  • •

  The sight of Americans on the bluff and the procession of prisoners coming down with their hands over their heads gave heart to the men on the beach and to the generals on Ancon and Augusta. But at 1200, Easy Red was by no means a safe place to be. The machine-gun fire had let up in the area between E-3 and E-1, thanks to the platoons that had gone up the bluff, eliminating pillboxes as they climbed, but the mortar and artillery fire continued to pour down—not as accurate as it had been earlier, because forward observation posts had been overrun or destroyed, but in greater volume.

  Reinforcements were coming ashore, primarily from the 115th Regiment. Its 1st Battalion, combat-loaded in LCVPs, went in at 1100 side by side with, or immediately behind, the craft carrying the 18th Regiment ashore. But at 1200 the other two battalions of the 18th, loaded in LCIs, were still milling about
the line of departure. It was an hour after high water and the ebb was running so fast it was difficult for the LCIs to avoid stranding, so they discharged their troops into LCVPs, which shuttled between them and the shore. The Germans caught on to this and started hitting the transfer points with shells. LCI 490 was unable to hook up with any LCVPs, but the skipper did spot an LCM. He traded his load of troops for the LCMs unwanted load of high explosives, to which he promptly gave the “deep six.”28

  Pvt. Eldon Wiehe was a truck driver for HQ Battery, 1st Division Artillery. His LCT, carrying seven deuce-and-a-half trucks loaded with ammunition, was scheduled to go in at 0830, but at 1130 it was still circling offshore, out of range of the German guns. When it did turn toward shore, an LCT to the right got hit by an 88mm shell, so the skipper on Wiehe’s LCT turned around and headed back into the Channel. After a bit he headed toward shore again, came under heavy gunfire, and backed off once more. At 1200 a patrol craft came by and a control officer with a bullhorn yelled, “The skipper of that craft, take that craft in, you’ve been in twice and backed off twice, now take it in this time and do not come back until it is unloaded.”

  The tide was receding but still high enough to cover the obstacles. Shells were exploding around the LCT. The skipper got in as far as he was going to go that day and, still well offshore, lowered the ramp. Wiehe’s lieutenant protested: “Take us in closer.”

  “Get off,” the skipper replied.

  The first truck drove off and immediately sank, the water far above the exhaust pipe.

  “Take us in closer!” the lieutenant screamed at the skipper.

  “Get off,” the skipper replied. “I’ve got to unload and get back to sea.”

  One after the other, the remaining six trucks drove off and sank. The drivers climbed out, inflated their Mae Wests, and swam in to shore. As he got out of the water, Wiehe heard a shell coming in. He jumped into a shell hole. “When that shell burst,” he related, “I panicked. I started crying. My buddies got me behind a burned-out craft, where I cried for what seemed like hours. I cried until tears would no longer come. [Finally] I stopped crying and came to my senses.”