Short History of World War II - James L. Stokesbury [169]
The original “hard” date for the landing was May 1, 1944. However, Eisenhower’s demand for additional forces put that also back to the first part of June, and finally the best combination of tide, moon, and light led to scheduling the landing for June 5. After the invasion armada was actually underway, the weather turned chancy, and the whole operation had to be set back one day, so that D Day became the 6th of June, 1944. It was a remarkable display of planning expertise and security that the invasion actually could be set back a day without the entire affair collapsing.
For it was a huge undertaking; all told, the Allies mustered 2,876,000 soldiers, sailors, and airmen. They had 11,000 aircraft and several thousand vessels, from great battleships to tiny landing craft that would hold a few men, from fast patrol boats to protect the flanks of the armada to the lumbering caissons of the Mulberry harbors. Most of the troops were already embarked and at sea when the news came in of the fall of Rome, a happy augury for this greatest of all undertakings in the war. The massive fleet, with unending streams of aircraft droning overhead, made its way to offshore rendezvous, formed up into task groups, and headed across the stormy Channel for the distant French shore. The ships carried soldiers of the United States, Britain, Canada, and France. In the air overhead were men from all of those nations plus Poles, Czechs, and airmen of the whole Empire-Commonwealth. General Eisenhower, who alone made the life-and-death decision to risk a break in the weather front, later called his task a “crusade in Europe,” and though it might not have been immediately apparent to many of the seasick soldiers in the lurching small craft, there was much of that about it. For a few short days, this was the only place in the war to be. For a great many young men, these few short days were to be the last they would ever see.
The Allies had designated five landing beaches, plus several drop zones for their paratroops and airborne infantry. The left, east flank of their landing was the Orne River. British airborne troops would drop on the bridges over the Orne and hold them as a secure flank; their symbol was the winged horse, Pegasus, and the bridge over the Orne on the coast road is still named “Pegasus Bridge,” a counterweight lift bridge with the pockmarks of small arms and field piece shells on it more than thirty years after the event. British troops would land on the east flank beach, named “Sword.” Five miles west was the second beach, “Juno,” at the resort town of Courcelles; this was slated for the Canadians. To the west again where the little town of Arromanches huddles between moderately high bluffs, was “Gold,” the second British beach. There was then a gap of several miles, until the first American beach was reached; this was “Omaha,” in front of the villages of Vierville and St. Laurent. Then, past the Carentan Estuary, was the second American beach, “Utah.” Inland from it was the small town of Ste.-Mère-Église, scheduled to receive the American paratroops.
Most of the landing went right, but much went wrong. The British airborne took and held the Orne River crossings, as they were supposed to. The American 82nd Airborne Division dropped in Ste.-Mère-Église and had a hard fight to secure bridgeheads across the Merderet River on the road to Cherbourg. The 101st Airborne, dropped to secure the exits from Utah Beach, had heavy losses when its men came down in the swamps of the Douve River. Held down and dragged under by their chutes, many paratroops died alone in the dark waters of the marshes.
The British and Canadians came ashore on their three beaches against heavy opposition and many obstacles but they had prepared well. They had excellent fire support from the fleet,