So, it is the sixth of June again.
The ocean pounds the advance of sand amidst the relics of a different age, the hulking remnants of the tide of battle. The surf rolls in and kisses the beach, as the last participants mix on the hallowed bluff above with the politicians who have gathered from all over the world.
Thirty-two years ago I watched as the American president honored the fallen, and the living, at the cemetery for the fortieth anniversary. Just out of college, something stirred inside me. Something was awoken.
I began by writing letters to the newspaper. I began to interview D-Day veterans and others. I began to collect stories- not relics, prizes, or artifacts. I really had little interest in captured Nazi flags or samurai swords.
I wanted to talk to the men who were there.
The fiftieth anniversary came next with great pomp and more reflection. It graced the covers of the major newsweeklies. “Saving Private Ryan” stirred the consciousness of a new generation, and reflections of the old. And I learned so much more of the war beyond the beachhead. That there were so many beachheads.
The sixtieth anniversary came around. Students on their bi-annual trips to France would bring me back their photographs and the requisite grains of white sand from Omaha Beach. Teenagers had their emotions a bit tempered, I think. I would go on to introduce them to so many who were there. When they themselves were teenagers.
So now it is the seventy-second. On the 65th, I wrote about a friend who is no longer here for the 72nd, and the 75th will bring fewer who were there back to Normandy.
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Today I would like to introduce you to a survivor of D Day who is still with us.
I first met Bill Gast at a reunion of 30th Infantry Division and 743rd Tank Battalion soldiers at a reunion in March 2008, in which I was present with several Holocaust survivors who were meeting their liberating soldiers for the first time. Later, Bill came to my high school to speak to students. I think the experience of sharing, and meeting the Holocaust survivors whom the 743rd came upon and liberated, affected him deeply.
Unlike many who may be physically able, Bill has no intention of going back to the sands of Omaha for this anniversary. As he explained to our students in 2009,
“I’m listed [in the event program] as a liberator- however, I am also a survivor of World War II, having landed on Omaha Beach in Normandy, France on D-day and fighting through to the end when the Germans surrendered, May the 7th, 1945.”
“Pictures.
Video games.
Movies.
Words.
They simply do not covey the feeling of fear.
The shock.
The stench.
The noise.
The horror, and the tragedy.
The injured.
The suffering.
The dying, and the dead.”
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D-Day: the view from a tank on Omaha Beach
By Mathieu Rabechault May 23, 2014 6:46 AM
Washington (AFP) – From inside his tank, the young soldier could see “practically nothing” on Omaha Beach.
Seventy years later, William Gast still wonders whether he rolled over his comrades sheltering from German gunfire that day.
Gast was 19 years old the morning of June 6, 1944. “We came in at H-10, that was 10 minutes before the designated hour.”
He cannot recall why he and his fellow soldiers arrived early, but he has other memories that have never left him.
As part of Company A, 743rd Tank Battalion, 1st Army, Gast remembers the training beforehand in Britain, when he rehearsed driving the Sherman tank onto the landing craft. And then floating in the English Channel.
“Another night we went out and we didn’t come back. That was it.”
Gast got to know the captain of the landing craft that would ferry his tank to the beaches of Normandy.
The skipper promised he would get them close enough that they would not be submerged in water, like so many tanks were that day.
He kept his word.
Another tank unit at Omaha Beach was less fortunate, with 27 of 32 tanks launched at sea five kilometers (three miles) from the coast sinking before they could reach land, despite being outfitted with a flotation screens.
“The order was given to go, we started our engines up, they lowered the ramp,” said Gast.
Amid German shrapnel and sea spray, he “could feel the tracks spinning.”
At last, the tank tracks took hold on the sandy sea bottom and he drove up the beach.
– Like throwing marbles at a car –
Down below in the driver’s seat, Gast tried to steer the tank with the aid of a small, manual periscope.
“You can imagine how much we could see, practically nothing,” he said.
The radios inside the tank were so unreliable that his commander would tell Gast which way to turn by kicking him on the left or right shoulder.
The difficulty in seeing the way ahead has left Gast with a gnawing sense that he may have run over the bodies of American soldiers on the beach.
“The saddest part about the whole thing is, not being able to see, I may have run over some of my own people.
“And if I did, I don’t even know it. I can’t ever get that out of my mind, you know?”
Bill Gast awarded the Silver Star.
Corporal Gast heard machine gun bullets hitting the side of the tank, “like throwing marbles at a car — that’s what it sounded like.”
“And there were shells that exploded right beside me. You could feel the tank shake.”
For Gast, it was a day of fear and terror, and following orders without reflection.
“I can’t tell much about what happened, I was scared to death to start with,” he said.
“It was just like putting it on automatic, you just did what you had to do, did what you were told to do.”
By noon, close to 19,000 American soldiers who landed at Omaha were still pinned down on the beach.
– High school sweetheart –
Carefully laid plans had unraveled as the beach became a killing zone, with troops mowed down under a fusillade of German machine gun, artillery and mortar fire.
Small teams of US troops eventually managed to break through on the bluffs between German positions, with the help of combat engineers blowing up obstacles.
The losses were staggering: more than 2,000 dead, wounded and missing on Omaha beach. The exact toll is still unknown. Of the 15 tanks in Gast’s Company A, only five survived without damage.
Gast, from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, earned the Silver Star and the Purple Heart during his combat tour, and went on to marry his high school sweetheart.
Now 89 years old, he recently was awarded France’s Legion d’Honneur at a small ceremony for World War II veterans at the French embassy in Washington.
The short, soft spoken man stood up to receive the medal and shook hands with a French diplomat. But he has no plans to return to Normandy for the 70th anniversary of the D-Day landings.
His son, Bill, said his father did not want to relive that day: “It’s important we don’t forget, but you try to hide things somewhere.”
Mr. & Mrs. Gast, Holocaust Survivors-American Soldiers reunion, 2009.
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I just talked to Bill and his wife. He’s doing fine, just recuperating from a case of the shingles. He wanted me to thank you for keeping the memory alive.