Probably the most iconic photograph taken on D-Day. “The Jaws of Death.” A photograph by CPHOM Robert F. Sargent, USCG. A Coast Guard-manned LCVP from the USS Samuel Chase disembarks troops of Company E, 16th Infantry, 1st Infantry Division on the morning of 6 June 1944 at Omaha Beach.
The crews of the landing craft experienced great and to some extent unaccustomed difficulties in landing their craft in the weather conditions prevailing, but they never faltered. “Force S” had been trained in the stormy waters of the Moray Firth, a fact for which their commander was thankful during the approach to France, but many of the landing craft crews had had far less experience of handling their craft m rough weather. Nevertheless, they rose to the occasion magnificently.
Troops and crewmen on a landing craft approaching the beach.
Rear-Admiral Sir Philip Vian, commanding the Eastern Task Force, is not a man lightly to give praise, but he reported: “Conditions of wind and sea on the day of sailing were, in my appreciation, unexpectedly severe for the launching of an operation of this type, and imposed a high test on the landing craft crews. Their spirit and seamanship alike rose to meet the greatness of the hour and they pressed forward and ashore, over or through mined obstacles in high heart and resolution; there was no faltering, and many of the smaller landing craft were driven on until they foundered.”
Rear-Admiral Vian’s reference to landing craft being driven on until they foundered did not refer to the passage to Normandy, but to the assault on the beaches, when a great many of the smaller landing craft were damaged by the mined underwater obstacles.
The weather in the assault area on the morning of D-day was cloudy, with a cloud ceiling at 10,000 feet but some cloud at 1,000 feet. The wind was westerly, blowing at 15 knots, and the waves were 3-4 feet high, with surf on the beaches.
The greatest enemy of the troops in the smaller landing craft proved, during the approach, to be seasickness. All the troops had been given anti-seasickness pills before sailing, and these may well have helped, but no man has ever yet discovered a real preventative for seasickness, and most of the troops in the smaller craft were very seasick. There are few maladies more quickly lowering to morale than seasickness, and the fact that the soldiers in the small craft were in such good heart and high spirits at the end of their trying ordeal was no mean tribute to their determination.
Commandos of 1st Special Service Brigade landing from an LCI(S) (Landing Craft Infantry Small) on ‘Queen Red’ Beach, Sword Area, at la Breche, at approximately 0840, 6 June 1944. The brigade commander, Brigadier the Lord Lovat can be seen striding through the water to the right of the column of men. The figure nearest the camera is the brigade’s bagpiper, Piper Bill Millin.
The spirit in which the men went in towards the beaches in the smaller landing craft was illustrated by the case of one LCA (Landing Craft, Assault), which had a bugler on board. As it passed the headquarters ship HMS Largs on its way in to the beach the bugler sounded the ceremonial “general salute.” The salute was acknowledged by Rear-Admiral A. G. Talbot commanding “Force S” and Major-General T. G. Rennie, commanding the 3rd British Infantry Division, who were standing side by side on the bridge.
In the assault area off SWORD beach, too, the passage of the landing craft towards the beach was enlivened by a motor launch, the young commander of which had conceived the idea of playing a portable gramophone and broadcasting the music through his “loud hailer.” Unfortunately his supply of records appeared to be very limited indeed, but “Roll out the Barrel” was one of them. To this the irrepressible bugler in the LCA replied by sounding “Come to the cookhouse door, boys” over and over again!
On the whole, the opposition on the beaches was much less than had been anticipated, but there was, nevertheless, considerable opposition. The scale of this opposition varied. On some beaches it was almost negligible during the initial stage of the assault, while in others it was extremely stiff, notably in the case of the American OMAHA beach.
That the opposition was not equally determined on all beaches was due to the terrific “softening up” process which had been begun by the bombing of the Allied air forces and continued by the naval bombardments. These, and particularly the short-range naval gunfire and the “drenching” fire produced by the destroyers, LCG’s (Landing Craft, Gun) and LCR’s (Landing Craft, Rocket) dazed and numbed the defenders of most of the German strong points during the critical period of the “touch down” of the first wave of the assault. To escape the fury of the bombardment the Germans had been forced to abandon their defence positions and take cover underground. The short time which it took them to recover and to get back to their weapons and their defence positions was fully exploited. It was in that interval that the craft carrying the troops of the first wave of the assault dashed in to the beaches.
It was indeed fortunate that the bombardments did have this effect upon the enemy and that the assault was able so successfully to profit by the period in which the Germans were “keeping their heads down” as a result of the terrific volume of fire to which their positions had been subjected. It had never been considered possible that either air or naval bombardment could achieve the destruction of the enemy’s prepared defence positions. In fact, Rear-Admiral Sir Philip Vian, who commanded the Eastern Task Force, stated categorically that the German beach defences were not suitable targets for naval gunfire, and this was aggravated by the fact that many of the enemy pillboxes were so sited that they derived considerable protection from the lie of the land against low trajectory fire from seaward, while the almost straight nature of the coastline made it impossible for the ships to direct enfilading fire on these positions.
Rear-Admiral Vian reported to Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay: “Except for the considerable moral effect of naval fire, which in many cases so demoralised the occupants of the concreted defences that the assaulting infantry captured them with little opposition, this type of beach defence was not a legitimate naval target.” And again, writing of the German shore batteries: “The considerable effect on the morale of the enemy gunners was the main factor contributing to this success. Following the heavy air bombardment on the majority of the coast defence batteries the accuracy and intensity of the naval bombardment broke the enemy’s nerve and no accurate return fire was experienced during the assault period.”
An LSR — Landing Ship Rocket in a peaceful view.
A spectacular broadside from an LSR.
This demoralisation of the defending enemy lasted only a few minutes, but those were the all-important minutes while the first wave was going in to the beaches, and during which there would otherwise certainly have been serious casualties among the landing craft and the troops huddled together in them. As it was, the leading groups of landing craft in most areas were within 3,000 yards of the shore line before they met with any opposition at all, and even then the resistance was at first spasmodic.
On some beaches the enemy opposition was even less, and the coxswain of an assault landing craft returning from the first trip to SWORD beach sang out to the craft on their way in: “It’s a piece of cake!”
Even on that beach, however, the lack of opposition was of short duration. The Hun soon came to life and there was a lot of mortar and machine-gun fire on the beaches and in the water close off the beaches. To some, who had found the initial absence of enemy resistance somewhat uncanny, this was almost a relief. Certainly it did not for one moment deter either sailor or soldier, but rather spurred them to even greater efforts. Rear-Admiral Talbot, who was commanding the assault on this beach, reported of the effect of the beginning of this enemy opposition: “But to soldiers and sailors alike, the vast majority of them under fire for the first time in their lives, if they ceased to joke it was because this was more as they had visualised an assault to be, and they only drove on the harder.’,
The Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief, Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay, felt after D-day that there was some danger of the magnitude and hazard of the operation, and
of the courage and determination of those who took part, becoming minimised in the public mind simply, because it was so successful. This he stressed to the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty in his letter accompanying his official report, and added: “That the operation proceeded smoothly and according to plan was the result of the hard work and foresight of the many thousands concerned in its preparation and of the determination and courage of the tens of thousands in the Allied Navies and Merchant Fleets who carried out their orders in accordance with the very highest traditions of the sea.”
At most of the beaches it was found that the worst difficulty in the initial assault, and the cause of the majority of the casualties, was presented by the mined obstacles set up between low and high-water marks, and even in some cases below low water mark. The LCOCU’s (Landing Craft Obstacle Clearance Units) did magnificent work, but the speed of the assault was such that they had insufficient time to neutralise or demolish many of the obstacles. The armoured bulldozers which were landed with the first wave of the assault also did great work in demolishing these obstacles. On the whole, however, the majority of the obstacles were cleared by the simple method of the larger and heavier types of landing craft charging the beaches and crashing their way through the obstacles. At the same time the smaller types of landing craft threaded their way in between the obstacles.
Support troops of the 3rd British Infantry Division assembling on ‘Queen Red’ Beach, Sword Area, near la Breche, Hermanville-sur-Mer, at 0830 on 6 June while under intermittent enemy mortar and shell fire. In the foreground and on the right, identified by the white bands around their helmets, are sappers of 84 Field Company Royal Engineers, part of No.5 Beach Group. Sappers Jimmy Leask (left, glancing up at the photographer), Cyril Hawkins of No. 1 Platoon, whilst on the right, walking towards the camera past the medical orderlies is Sapper Fred Sadler of the same Platoon. All three survived the war.
The British 2nd Army. Infantry waiting to move off ‘Queen White’ Beach, Sword Area, while under enemy fire, on the morning of 6 June. The first landings on Sword were made by the British 3rd Infantry Division, 27th Armoured Brigade and Royal Marine and Army Commando units from General Crocker’s I Corps. By nightfall the British had 28,850 men ashore and the Orne bridge had been seized.
Vehicles unloaded from LCTs on a British beach.
Royal Navy beach commandos near Courseilles directing traffic by loud hailer.
Some of the underwater obstacles cleared from Juno.
Naturally, the method of charging through the obstacles with the heavier types of landing craft led to damage and to casualties, but no other method could have been so successful without delaying or reducing the momentum of the first wave of the assault, and thereby failing to profit to the utmost from the brief period in which the enemy was incapable of putting up any effective resistance.
The following eye-witness report, compiled on board HMCS Prince David, of the landing of the Canadians near Bernières-sur-Mer on JUNO beach, is eloquent of the trouble caused by the mined beach obstructions:
“HMCS Prince David landed her first body of invasion troops exactly on schedule on the beach at Bernières-sur-Mer. The soldiers, members of a French-Canadian regiment recruited from the lower St Lawrence, were ferried from the parent ship by the landing craft flotillas, commanded by Lieutenant R. G. Buckingham. It was not until the assault infantry and tank landing craft were practically on the beach that they ran into trouble in the form of mines. The small assault boats were the heaviest sufferers. The boats rode in with a stiff wind that sent the surf crashing on the beach. Their way lay through a section of crossed scantlings which gave this piece of water the appearance of a field filled with stumps. These were the mine supports. First Lieutenant J. McBeath’s boat was mined; then Lieutenant Buckingham, Lieutenant Beveridge and Leading Seaman Lavergne had their craft smashed by mines. It was a wild scramble for shore, but every one made it with the exception of two French-Canadians in Lieutenant McBeath’s boat. They were killed outright by the mine which their boat hit. While our boats were emptying their men, others were taking punishment from mines farther up the beach. Chunks of debris rose a hundred feet in the air and troops, now hugging the shelter of a breakwater, were peppered with pieces of wood. The bigger landing craft did not escape, but they could take it.”
HMCS Prince David was one of three Canadian passenger liners converted for the Royal Canadian Navy; first to Armed Merchant Cruisers at the beginning of the War, then to Infantry Landing Ships (Medium). For three years, they were the largest ships in the RCN.
HMCS Prince David at Normandy, landing US Service Corps troops after the initial landings.
The American equivalent of the British LCOCU’s is the Naval Combat Demolition Unit. These units did magnificent work in clearing the mined obstacles in the OMAHA and UTAH areas. Typical of their exploits was that of a unit whose men had to crawl on their stomachs under heavy fire and dragging the explosives with which to blow gaps in the obstructions for the landing craft. J. L. Comfrey of this unit described his experiences as follows: “The Jerries started pouring lead at us right off the bat. They used everything they could muster, 88 mm guns, mortars and machine guns, and the snipers were busy too. But we managed to wire our charges to the obstacles, which were pyramids of railway iron with mines attached, and blow the gaps. We worked on those things all day and for the next two days with the Jerries working on us all the time with their 88 mm’s. As soon as we heard them go off we’d try to make it to foxholes, but often we didn’t have time, so we’d just hit the deck and hope.”
Canadian troops in heavy seas heading for Juno Beach after having left HMCS Prince Henry.
Canadian troops landing at Juno Beach.
Canadians landing at Bernières-sur-mer, Juno Beach.
Obstacles on the beach to be dealt with by LCOCU.
Another case of a United States Naval Demolition Unit which accomplished its task in spite of being almost wiped out by the enemy’s fire was that of which Seaman E. Corvese was the only survivor. The group was pinned down on the beach for fifteen hours by very accurate German fire from 88 mm guns and the entire crew except Corvese became casualties. Nevertheless, as soon as the German fire slackened a little Corvese pressed on and blew up the obstacles for the destruction of which his unit had been made responsible.
The losses of landing craft off the beaches were almost negligible by comparison with the number of craft employed, but a great many landing craft were damaged off the beaches.
The actual numbers of landing craft damaged during the assault phase of the invasion were as follows:
Landing craft, Tanks 131
Landing craft, Assault 117
Landing craft, Infantry (small) 22
Landing craft, Infantry (large) 21
Total 291
US troops disembark from a landing vehicle on Utah Beach on the coast of Normandy, June 1944. Carcasses of destroyed vehicles litter the beach.
D-Day + 1. American troops land in about two feet of water from an LCI(S) on 7 June 1944. On the beach ahead are a DUKW and several jeeps, a smoke screen provides some minor coverage.
The great majority of these were, of course, repairable. Some of these craft were damaged by enemy shell or mortar fire while on the beaches, and a considerable proportion of the damage caused to the smaller craft was due to the weather and the surf on the beaches, but most of the damage to the larger type landing craft was caused by the mined obstructions off the beaches.
While things were going well on the beaches in the British and Canadian sectors—on these, beaches the assault and reserve companies of troops were through the exits from the beaches by about 10 a.m. and the beaches were no longer under direct fire from small-arms, machine-guns or mortars—the same could not be said of the whole of the American sector. That was no reflection upon the skill, determination and courage of the American personnel. Had the American sailors and soldiers not possessed these qualities in full measure matters would have b
een far worse.
On UTAH beach the landings had gone according to plan, but on OMAHA beach the American assault troops found themselves unexpectedly opposed by a full-strength division of German field troops.
This was the 352nd Field Division of the Wehrmacht, and its presence in the assault area of the invasion came as a complete surprise to the Allies. It was the only occasion on which the Allied intelligence organisation proved at fault, and this was hardly to be wondered at, for the division had only moved into the area two or three days before D-day in order to carry out anti-invasion manoeuvres. It was subsequently established beyond doubt that its presence in the invasion area was quite fortuitous and not due to any prevision on the part of the enemy or leakage of the Allied plans.
An amphibious vehicle approaching a beach in an early dawn phase. An uncomfortable night crossing, cold, constant water ingress, were minor compared to the mixture of fear and adrenalin.
A radio unit in on Utah Beach. The Crosley Corporation of Cincinnati, Ohio manufactured the Signal Corps Radio set SCR-284 that consisted of the BC-654 and associated support equipment. The BC-654 was introduced in Africa during Operation Torch and was the first radio set used for communications from the beach to the US Fleet to coordinate naval gunfire and beach radio networks. More than 50,000 BC-654s were produced and delivered in support of Operation Overlord generator. Power is produced by a hand-crank generator.
Operation Neptune Page 19