A couple of hours into the drive we were both fighting tiredness and realisation that our plan was quite flawed!! We did get to Calais by about 4. We eventually caught a train about 6 am and had an equally tiring journey heading West to Devon — never again was our assessment of such a daft decision.
However, back in Whimple, we had a great time catching up with friends and family albeit for only for a few days before we made our way back to Normandy. Fortunately, our return ferry trip went as planned and we had probably the smoothest crossing one can imagine — like being on a luxury Caribbean cruise well we did have an outside cabin with a large window and the sun was shining. On our return to Normandy, we were faced with our last three weeks of a near two year French adventure. We have very mixed feelings about this — on one hand we are really looking forward to being home in Whimple on the other we are leaving behind wonderful new friends and an area of France we have fallen in love with in truth I think we have always loved Normandy but even more so now.
The last few days have only enhanced our view of this part of the world. Driving through the forest at this time of the year it seems to change daily. The Autumn colours are starting to appear, the leaves are dropping from the trees, the ferns are already dying back and turning a dark brown, the forest seems to be opening up and allowing in more light.
Cycling through it yesterday on the off-road tracks even they seemed easier as much of the undergrowth has either been cleared or died back.
However, both yesterday and today we had a reminder of another side of rural France, in this case the hunting season has started! I think the season actually started over a week ago and we have noticed hunting activity every day since and heard the hounds and the gunfire close to our house in the last few days.
Our Normandy Adventure
They did not seem bothered by us — I think we were more concerned than they were, but a wave and a bonjour and we were on our way. Today we were driving off to a plant and craft fair some 10 miles away but within a hundred yards of home the hunters were lined along our road waiting for whatever animal was going to be driven out from the nearby maize field.
They the hunters that is not the deer waved at us as we went by and did not seem fazed by us driving through their midst. Further along there were even more hunters out in a field working their dogs, once again they waved and said bonjour. From there we went onto a car boot — well a mixture of car booters and regular antique dealers. One of the main roads in St Michel des Andaine was completely closed off to traffic and the car booters set up their stalls for a mile or so on both sides of the road. We also bought two Pear Bourdalot ie a pear fully encased in shortcrust pastry — delicious and I suspect it might be one we will try to bake at home!!
Yesterday our good friends and neighbours asked if we could help them out with unloading bales of straw. A sharp intake of breath as memories of hay baling in June flooded back but how could we refuse when they have been supplying us with homegrown produce for the last couple of months!! Fortunately, the straw bales were probably smaller than the hay bales and at least half the weight so bales dealt with quite quickly without aching backs or sore arms!
I should add that Julia, either side of the unloading, did an mile bike ride in the morning then a 5k run in the evening — probably just as well the straw was light!! This morning, whilst Julia in the land of Zumba, I had to deal with a visit from what must be the French equivalent to our water companies. The water diviner looked about 17 but was very efficient and basically checking our fosse septic — how is that for a career a poo expert!!! Fortunately he knew a little English and I knew sufficient words for us to both to be understood. This pit then empties into a stream some 50 feet at the back of our property — or should!!!
When Mr Poo Man opened up the pit it was full to the top — a raised eyebrow from the poo man and a suggestion it should not be like this — I am not an expert although I did help our other neighbour Pierre clean it out last year so maybe I do have some expertise but even I could tell all was not well. When Julia returned from Zumba I told her what had happened — now this pit is located in her domain as it is in the middle of a small courtyard where she hangs out all her washing not sexist just a division of labour best suited to our skills — I look after the bikes and the car!!
Julia dashed down, had a look and decided she was going to empty the pit!!! By this time I was already halfway into cleaning the car but when Julia has the bit between her teeth there is no stopping her. So car abandoned, neighbour Pierre called in to support our efforts and between the three of us pit cleaned and numerous large buckets of a substance, similar to that probably being developed at Porton Down Chemical Laboratory, poured into the stream!!
We might have been leading an idyllic lifestyle here but occasionally we do get our hands mucky!! We started off early this morning to visit a car boot in the village of Juvigny-sous-Andaine some 8 to 9 miles from here. A lovely ideal French village, ie it has a bar, a boulangerie, a small shop and a restaurant!!
We did look at buying a property here last year but decided against the principle of owning a French property — but if we did Juvigny would be high on our list of places to live. Unusually for us no purchases made, apart from a jacket for Julia that is!!! But we did stop for a coffee and a lovely pastry each. Although we only succumb to the breakfast patisseries when we have visitors we are sure going to miss them when we are back in the UK. After the family departed we started our packing for the trip home to Whimple on Thursday. After a total of 14 months in France we sure have a lot of stuff — probably not surprising as we have spent twice as much time in France than we have in Devon over the last two years.
However, it was exciting starting to unpick the house here and see all the things we will have in Devon, which will be mementoes of our great time in France. However, after a couple of hours packing, we decided to head back out to the car boot as our packing obviously identified us that we still did not have enough mementoes of our time here!
And so it proved — this time with purchases of a couple of fruit bowls and a coffee cafetiere. The latter came as a surprise purchase because I am very sure we just packed one in the boxes for home!! Part of the car boot was situated on the local football field and whilst walking around the pitch I suddenly realised why French footballers are thought to be more skilful than the English.
The pitch was so bumpy that if anyone could play football on that surface then they must be brilliant on a flat one! We were, though, entertained by the town band marching up and down through the sellers and by someone who has made a hobby of converting milk churns into drums — really!! Of course after all this excitement we needed another refreshment stop — this time a beer and wine but no pastries!! A lovely end to a special time with family being able to share with them the joy of our time here in France and showing them some of our favourite places! Having written that I would not be doing a daily blog such a lot happened today we thought it might be worth recording our adventures.
Letters From Normandy
However, I felt, in view of Julia sporting efforts this week it would be fitting to list her activities this week. In the last 6 days, she has undertaken two runs, notably a 7. All in all a noteworthy achievement and one which underlines her fitness in the run-up to her Argentina and Chile bike ride!! When we set out today we never planned a mile bike ride although we thought we might hit 40! We made our way to Ranes — a small town slightly to the North East of here over what turned out to be very hilly terrain.
But as ever cycling on rural French roads a delight and by the time we arrived at Ranes we had been passed by very few cars. At Ranes we stopped for a coffee and an energy bar before having a quick look at a small market offering local produce. This display of different tomatoes on one stall was a sight to behold and the photograph does not do justice to the variety on display! From Ranes we cycled another 20 miles towards Bagnoles through glorious countryside, much of which felt like it was downhill so made that part of the ride even more enjoyable.
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We had one or two miss turns which somehow brought us to the hamlet of Lignou which had the most amazing church for such a tiny place. Another miss turn took us past a gate into the churchyard and Julia noticed a Commonwealth War Graves sign so we went in search and eventually found a single grave making the internment Of Pilot Officer Davidson of the RCAF who was shot down in his Spitfire on 28th June aged There is a report that as his plane was coming down he still had the ability to steer it away from a house at the very last moment so that the wing missed by a few feet before he crashed!!
We eventually made Bagnoles for a much-needed refreshment stop — this time a crepe each — washed down by a Leffe beer!! The last 10 miles home were a bit of struggle as it was all uphill. Overall w e managed over feet climbing through on our ride!!! Wednesday was a very grey and damp day. This did not stop Julia going out for a morning run but wet enough to prove once again that I am definitely a fair weather cyclist!
On the way back from dropping Julia off at her rehearsal I had the closest near miss with another car so far in our two-year odyssey. Fortunately, I was driving very slowly which enabled me to pull over in time — I just never understand the driving mentality over here. For me with no indoor household duties and being too wet outside I had a duvet day and spent most of it watching a new series on Amazon Prime. These sort of days, I suspect, will be few and far between when back in the UK!
Wednesday night, as ever, was music night in the pub. Having eulogised over the last few weeks about how good the pub night was and that the music was outstanding — last nights was less enjoyable — the music was ok but the sparkle of the previous few weeks was missing!! However, it was good to catch up with friends who, having left France a few months ago, were back over for a few days holiday.
Hopefully, next week will see the pub back to its best. Today, fortunately not as grey, indeed by the afternoon it was a sunny, dare one say, autumnal day. Julia off to a French lesson whilst I did potter around this time doing some household chores. In the afternoon we went for our last swim at the pool in Bagnoles. The business of landing deep in enemy territory and trying to hold a position assaulted and shelled from four sides until friendly troops break through is something I hope they never ask me to do again.
The night we jumped, D-day-six hours, was the pay-off night. The Jerries knew our plans down to the last detail and were waiting for us with everything they had.
My chute was on fire from tracer bullets when I landed - right in front of a machine-gun emplacement. I cut out of my harness and crawled for a couple of hours with bullets whistling past my ears coming from seemingly every direction. I can't tell you what else went on - but the story gets good from here. I hope it won't be too long before I can tell you personally all that has happened. Anyway - God alone brought me safely through this far - of that I'm sure. My darling, I love you more than life itself - I've realised that many times these last three weeks when I thought I was going to be killed and always the regret of missing seeing and marrying you was topmost in my mind at the time.
I think I can say my love for you has been pretty well tested. How goes the world with you? Have you made a triumphant entry into Rome yet mounted on a subservient pongo? Things seem to have gone with a swing your end. Here we have had the fun of the world. I've just got back never having had a dull moment for 19 days. It was a remarkably well-thought-out and well-run show - orders good and clear - no difficulties at all. Even the Herrenvolk [Germans] forgot to make any.
It was rather an eerie performance on D-day. For some reason or other I had to go on ahead of one gang to shoot at a battery. We were a bit scared and felt very lonely closing the "Fortress Wall" alone There was no shooting at all until touchdown and then not very much, though the beaches got fairly heavily shelled at a later stage.
I had a look at the beach defences later and found the Hun had been completely foxed by the landing taking place so near low water. The beach obstacles, which were fairly numerous, were all in plain view and his pillboxes were so constructed that they could only shoot effectively along the high water mark - the arcs of fire rendered craft beaching far out, out of range. Rather dull after that - the landing went on steadily. We did occasional shoots as called for and spent the rest of the time helping the landing craft - taking off their wounded, breaking them up, telling them where to go.
They'd all forgotten their orders by then! We had a really nasty north-easter for three days. Destroyers and some cruisers shipping seas at anchor, dropping all over the place. Beach littered with wrecks. The Mulberries and gooseberries [artificial harbours and scuttled ships] worked like a dream and are a really remarkable contribution to efficiency. Of all ridiculous things they forgot to send any oilers and we had to scratch round as best we might for fuel.
The latter end of the time mining was becoming a serious nuisance and looks like continuing so. They seem to be unsweepable; but go off quite a lot as one moves about. If you have time and opportunity I should much appreciate a homeward shipment of Algerian or Italian wine. A large cask would suit.
Let me know what it costs and where to pay it in. Any other product of captured territory would be equally welcome. The situation regarding alcohol in this country is one of Hitler's major triumphs. Major Gerald Ritchie 8th Yorkshire parachute regiment, to his sister July 3. Thank you so much for your letter received some time ago when I was in hospital.
Letters from D-day
As you see, I am now out, thank goodness, and am more or less all right again. I have still a bit of a hole in my arm but nothing to speak of. I must say I was terribly lucky as the bit of shrapnel missed everything important. It went in about four inches below my shoulder, rather on the inside of my arm, and stopped just below the surface on the outside of the arm towards the back of it.
As you say, it was a party which I wouldn't have missed for anything, but even though I wasn't in it for 48 hours, and for my lot the first part, was, from all accounts, a picnic, compared with the time they had after I left. It all seems rather like a particularly bad dream looking back on it. We emplaned late in the evening of the Monday and it all seemed very unreal. It was difficult to imagine that by dawn on the next day, we should have been tipped out of an aeroplane over France and should have landed in a place where there were quite a number of evil-minded Boche, whose one object would be to liquidate us before we could do the same to them.
It all seemed so like an ordinary exercise, and this illusion very fortunately went on for me right up to the moment I landed with a bump in a field. The doors of the aircraft were opened while we were still over the sea and being No1 to jump in my aircraft, I had a grand view as the coast of France appeared below us.
I could see no sign of life below us, thanks to the RAF, and although I believe a few shots were fired at us, I never saw any. I remember my signaller, who jumped No2, saying, "Gawd! Look at those bomb craters! A few moments more and the red light came on and then the green, and out I went, my mind a complete blank as usual when I jump. I can remember very little of my descent, it didn't take long anyway.
Letters from Normandy
I did rather a poor landing, my own fault entirely, and bruised my knees which made crawling most painful, and I had a certain amount to do during that day! Anyway, I scrambled to my feet and unhitched myself from my parachute and took a look around. I knew I was more or less in the right place as others were coming down in the vicinity, but I was not exactly sure where. There was a horse grazing in the field where I was, who didn't seem to like my presence much, so I went off in the direction where I thought our rendezvous was.
There were some machine-guns firing at the planes over to the east and quite a lot of flak and stuff to the south, but no sign of any enemy in our vicinity or in the direction I was going. There were numerous others about from our battalion and in a little while I met one of my platoon commanders and then the colonel and then another captain and we checked our position and arrived at our objective, a quarry, without any untoward incident.
At this quarry was a cottage, and when we arrived, the French family came out and we shook hands all round and wished each other "Bon jour", most inappropriately! As it was then 2am and the "jour" was not at all "bon". A few hours after the sea launching, the commandos got up to us and came across our bridges, again most cheering, and things were a bit hectic just then. I remember that one lot had a piper with them, which was the first thing we heard of them, and a very pleasant sound it was, and I have taken a better view of bagpipes ever since!
A lot of it I've given rather sketchily, and I could never hope to give you the atmosphere, as it were; it is really quite indescribable. The extraordinary smell of broken buildings and explosives; the countryside, very like the Cotswolds really, littered with gliders and parachutes; gliders everywhere, in hedges and fences, some broken so much that it looked that no one could have survived and yet in very few cases was anyone hurt on landing. It was really an amazing but very unpleasant and tragic two days. The second-in-command of my company never appeared at all and was found four days later, he had been killed soon after landing; and my best friend in the battalion never turned up at all, nor anyone from his plane, so what happened to him I don't know.
After I left they had rather a sticky time and most of the officers were either killed or wounded, more the latter than the former fortunately. Our colonel was killed, the announcement was in today's Telegraph. Apart from our ordinary equipment, we were loaded down with heavy packs, a pick or shovel each, 24 hours' rations, ammunition and maps. Under our armpits were the large bulges of the inflated Mae-Wests [lifejackets]. In the mess decks we blacked our faces with black Palm Olive cream and listened to the naval orders over the loud hailer. Most of us had taken communion on the Sunday, but the ship's padre had a few words to say to us.
Then the actual loading into craft - the swinging on davits - the boat lowering and finally, "Away boats". Promptly at H-hour, I began listening on my wireless sets for the first news. It was a very dull morning and the land was obscured by mist and smoke so that except for the flotilla leader and the CO, no one actually saw the land till the metal doors opened in front and the ramp was down, but very soon after H-hour, crystal clear over my sets, came messages from the assaulting companies: By now we could hear the tach-a-tach-a-tach of enemy machine guns and the strident explosions of enemy mortars on the beach and its approaches.
Now was the moment - we clutched our weapons and wireless sets, all carefully waterproofed. Suddenly there was a jarring bump on the left and looking up from our boards we saw some of the beach obstacles about two feet above our left gunwale with a large mine on top of it, just as photographs had shown us; the mine just the same as those we had practised disarming.
Again a bump on the right, but still we had not grounded. The colonel and the flotilla leader were piloting us in, and for a few brief minutes nothing happened except the music of the guns and the whang of occasional bullets overhead, with the sporadic explosions of mortar bombs and the background of our own heavy gun fire. The doors opened as we grounded and the colonel was out. The sea was choppy and the boat swung a good bit as one by one we followed him. Several fell in and got soaked through.
I stopped for a few seconds to help my men with their heavy wireless sets and to ensure they kept them dry. As we staggered ashore, we dispersed and lay down above the water's edge. Stuff was falling pretty close to us and although I did not see it happen, quite a number of the people from my own boat were hit. Instinctively, where we lay we hacked holes with our shovels. I began to recognise wounded men of the assault companies. Some were dead, others struggling to crawl out of the water because the tide was rising very rapidly.
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We could not help them since our job was to push on, but I saw one of my signal corporals with a wound in his leg and I took his codes with me promising to send a man back for his set before he was evacuated. Getting just off the beach among some ruined buildings we began to collect the HQ. The other boat party was mostly missing, also three-quarters of my sets.
The colonel was getting a grip on the battle and I was sent back on the beach to collect the rest of us. I did not feel afraid, but rather elated and full of beans. There was some horrible sights there and not a few men calling out for help. I wanted to pull a body out of the waves, but he looked to be dead and I had no time or duty there - the beach medical people would gradually get round to them all. Under the sides of a tank that had been hit I saw a bunch of my people and I bawled at them to get up and get moving since they were doing no good there and could quite safely get along to HQ.
I felt a little callous when I found that nearly all of them had been hit and some were dead. But sorting them out I made up half of a wireless team and then went in search of some more. Further on were the adjutant and the padre with their party, also taking cover. I told them where we were and took them back with me. By persuading a couple of blokes with shrapnel in their legs and feet that they were good for a few hours yet, I got my wireless lifted and we got back to HQ. It was just moving off further inland. Later I discovered that Jimmy Laurie and Major Barber, one of my signallers and numerous others, had been killed on the beach landing at the same time as myself, and I felt I had been very fortunate.
The next battle I saw only from the back, but its aftermath gave me my first real taste of fear. We had moved forward into one already taken enemy position to mount an attack on a stronger one beyond it. This was rash since Jerry had his mortars laid on the last position. It was a small thick wood by the side of a road, and he fairly laced into us. I cannot tell you how many were wounded and killed there, but I lost some more signallers and a whole crowd round me got hit.
We could not get away, neither could we dig. The ground was hard and tangled with roots, the bombs were bursting literally everywhere all the time. I laid on my face for a few moments, then seeing the provost sergeant hit five yards away I pushed over to him and shoved my field dressing on the back of his neck. He had a piece through his shoulder, but it was not serious, and we got him out of it. Curious how everyone turns yellow when hit. We all had to get out of it and we did. The attack went in from the rear instead and was successful, lots of Jerry prisoners being captured, but Dicky was killed and Hurch wounded, as well as a good many others.
After this, having reached our objectives, all but one, we began to collect ourselves. People get lost all over the place in battle, some deliberately, most quite by accident. We were pulled back a bit and made to dig in for the night, but we got very little sleep, and next day moved on and dug in again and so on - the rest since then I cannot yet tell you, but D-day was not the end, nor is the end yet. For the rest, it is a tale of new faces. PS Don't let this story depress you because we are in great form now.
Warren Tute collection, D-day Museum, Portsmouth. Josef B, Leopold L: It was a condition of publication that their second names were not used. Landed on Sword Beach on D-day June 4 My dear Mum You certainly won't get this letter until after the event, as it were, but I hope it won't be delayed too long. Lieutenant John Pelly Midshipman on destroyer HMS Eglington June 7 Not a minute to spare except you can probably guess how life is with us these days - damn busy and tired, but very well.
He spent the next six months based there on an offshore liberty ship June 13 My own darling Janie, Golly, honey - how I've missed you today. Leopold L , German sergeant June 15 As you know, the battle in the west has now started, and I am sure you can imagine that we are committing ourselves to it, and how little time is left for writing.
Landed in Normandy by glider June 23 Dear Folks, At present I'm lying in the sun in a very pleasant orchard in N France and a force of about Fortresses has just gone overhead. My regards to all. Hoping to see WGB close up on 30th. Lofty PS As you can see from this turgid screed I am a gent of leisure in harbour. Major Gerald Ritchie 8th Yorkshire parachute regiment, to his sister July 3 Chesterfield My dear Muriel Thank you so much for your letter received some time ago when I was in hospital. Yours ever Gerald Lieutenant H T Bone of the 2nd Battalion, East Yorkshire Regiment, to his mother July 4 Apart from our ordinary equipment, we were loaded down with heavy packs, a pick or shovel each, 24 hours' rations, ammunition and maps.