I stood on the edge of the ship looking over in fear. In the distance, I could see waves rolling upon to the seashore. By the thousands, men were climbing over the side of the ship into small boats. The small boats were traveling towards the beach. This was an event waiting to happen. Now standing shoulder to shoulder in the small landing craft with water splashing over the edges onto us we waited for the front door to open. Fear could be seen on everyone’s face. The noise from explosions was deafening. With a huge splash, the door fell open. I hesitated as shots fired into the boat killed the first three rows of men. Then in a pack, we rushed out of the boat into the sea. With all my equipment, I struggled to stay above water. The only way I had been able to get to the beach was by removing all my equipment. Hiding behind several dead men, I looked back and watched terrified as hundreds were drowning. Nevertheless, I could see more Americans coming.
It was in Normandy, France, on 6 miles of Omaha Beach shore. June 6, 1944 was a dark and gloomy day.
I lay there and watched in horror as bullets rained down on us from the wall above. Right in front of me, bullets riddled a group of American soldiers. I paused to look at the stillness of the sky and the fierceness of German soldiers, on cliffs, 100 feet high. I knew the worst was yet to come.
It was a brutal day of killing, thousands died. Omaha beach had turned into a blood beach. It was a killing ground. I lay there on the beach and prayed for my life. For all that I could think of, were my wife and children. I picked up a rifle from one of the dead soldiers as I had ditched mine while trying to get to shore. Poured the blood out of a helmet and put it on my head. Then I dash across the beach in order to get closer to the Germans. Bullets whizzed and zinged past me as I ran. What could possibly be the meaning of all the hatred and killing, but I knew I could not go back.
Then all of sudden my world went black. My final day was D-Day June 6, 1944 on Omaha Beach.