We Are Leaving At A Rapid Rate

LCT – Utah Beach 1944 – July 4^th – Normandy, France

Our unit, the 13^th Machine Records Unit (Mobile), or the 13^th MRU (M), was aboard a Landing Craft Tank (LCT), the Bella Lockwood.  It was the same LCT we had noticed in Greenock, Scotland after crossing the Atlantic on the troop ship Aquitania in November 1943.  We would stay on the LCT overnight and be ashore in the morning.  Having been offshore at Utah Beach on July 4, 1944 adds an extra meaning to Independence Day.  A barrage balloon was cable attached to each of the many watercrafts to make it more difficult for enemy planes to strafe the area.  Somebody on one of the crafts just had to celebrate while it was still July 4^th. 

Just seconds before July 5^th a bright flare shot up and hit a balloon.  The balloon exploded and slowly descended in an inferno of yellow flames, lighting up the entire area.  Shortly after that incident an order was issued to all craft not to do such a dumb and dangerous thing again.  An enemy plane did make a pass over us later that night.

As a child I never dreamed I would be anchored, on a landing craft, offshore at Utah Beach.  I had no interest in firecrackers on this Independence Day in 1944.

The next morning we rolled off the LCT, hardly getting wet.  Minesweeping was still being done on the beaches.  We proceeded west.  Somewhere along the way we spent the night in an open cow pasture in our bedrolls.  None of us had bathed for weeks.  In addition to being filthy we had beards and looked pretty bad.  A cow pond in the corner of the field was the source of a bath.  Algae covered the pond, but when swished to the side the water was clear.  An order came down that everyone was to shave.  General George Patten must have been around!  The Normandy people were glad to wash our clothes for soap, but not for invasion money.  They felt the Germans might return and find out that they had accepted the money.

Retreat – Bed Check Charlie – Au Revoir

Our unit operated on a 24/7 schedule with three shifts of personnel (when not on the move).  While we were in Charleville, France on the Belgium border, an enemy plane would fly within hearing distance and drop bombs here and there.  The plane would fly at a high altitude each night just after dark.  We called the pilot “Bed Check Charlie.”  The explosions were always in the distance, so we were not concerned.  One night I went into one of the trailers to see how things were going.  Five men were working. 

It only took seconds for what was about to happen.  We heard a faint high-pitched sound from way above us.  It became louder and louder. Then there was a wobble sound added.  Everyone froze.  It had to be a bomb from “Bed Check Charlie” headed directly for our trailer!  We only thought, “This is it!”  These were the last seconds of our lives.  The shrill became deafening.  In the next second we would be blown to bits!  There was nothing to do about it!  We were about to die.  Au revoir, c’est la guerre.  I am still around today.  For