EPILOGUE

“Madam, this is all there are.”

DESPITE BEING MISDROPPED, isolated, shot to pieces, left leaderless, forced to improvise, and hampered by a lack of equipment, the Allied parachute and glider troops on D-Day and beyond performed magnificently. Virtually every objective to which they had been assigned was taken, every mission accomplished. Although the vast majority of paratroops had never been in combat before, nor seen friends blown to pieces, they either quickly acquired the skills to survive and succeed or they perished. They sowed death, confusion, and panic behind enemy lines. They seized and held key towns, roads, bridges, and destroyed enemy positions until their relief came from the beaches, and then they continued fighting until higher headquarters decided that their services were no longer required and granted them rest and recuperation.

The carefully planned and rehearsed Operation Overlord/Neptune melded into Operation Cobra, the breakout from the hedgerow fighting in the American sectors, and Operation Goodwood, the British/Canadian effort to take Caen. On 9 July Montgomery’s Twenty-first Army Group finally battered its way into Caen, which was by then less of a city and more of a flattened, smoldering, unrecognizable heap of bricks and mortar. Both Cobra and Goodwood then turned into a race eastward across France, into Belgium, Holland, Luxembourg, and ultimately, into Germany. The airborne divisions would be used en masse again—first in the disastrous September 1944 effort to seize key bridges in Holland (Operation Market Garden) and then in the more successful March 1945 crossing of the Rhine (Operation Varsity).1

Unlike the regular “straight-leg” divisions that were in the war “for the duration,” the two American airborne divisions received a respite from fighting a month after Normandy was secured, replaced by the larger, stronger, fresher infantry and armored divisions.

Part of the reason was because the Army had promised that the airborne troops would only be in France for “a few days.” But perhaps the main reason was because the 82nd and 101st had suffered such high casualties that they needed to be pulled out of the line in order to receive para-trained replacements and retrain for planned future operations.

After thirty-three days in France, the 101st returned to England. Boarding U. S. Navy ships at Utah Beach, the division was sent back to England to rest, recuperate, and prepare for their next assignment—whenever and wherever that might be.2 The British and Canadian airborne forces, however, weren’t as fortunate and remained in Normandy for several more weeks while they continued to suffer casualties.

Bud Warnecke, B/508/82nd, noted that his company jumped on D-Day with about 148 men. When the battle of Normandy had died down a few weeks later, “we walked out of Normandy on our way back to Wollaton Park with about forty-seven. The 1st Platoon [normally about forty men] had about a dozen on their feet.”3

Lester Pollom, another 82nd trooper, remembered a poignant scene once his unit returned to England: “We debarked from the train at Nottingham Station and we were all surprised to find thousands of towns-people there to welcome us. There were very few of us. I noticed a middle-aged woman walking back and forth, frantically searching the thin ranks of troopers. She became more and more agitated as she searched. She finally stopped in front of me and asked, ‘When will the rest of them be in?’”

“I answered her by saying, ‘Madam, this is all there are.’

“She raised her eyes skyward, crossed herself, and in a plaintive voice cried, ‘Oh, God in heaven!’ She turned away sobbing.”4

THANKFULLY, AIR MARSHAL Trafford Leigh-Mallory’s prediction of horrendous losses of American airborne and glider forces, and the transport planes that carried them into battle, never materialized. Still, the loss of so many outstanding young soldiers willing to risk their lives for a higher ideal is one of the inescapable tragic aspects of war, and why the memory of their sacrifices must be enshrined forever.

As with so many other campaigns and battles in World War II, the casualty figures for Overlord/Neptune vary widely. Each source seems to have a different count of men killed, wounded, or missing. With this in mind, the following figures are presented as approximate; the true number may never be known.

The D-Day Museum in Portsmouth, England, says that 11,590 Allied aircraft were available to support the landings. On D-Day and D+1, Allied aircraft (2,395 aircraft and 867 gliders) flew 14,674 sorties, and 127 were lost.5

John C. Warren, in Airborne Operations in World War II, European Theater, says that of the 517 gliders used by American forces, 222 were Horsas, most of which were destroyed in landing accidents or by German fire after landing. Although a majority of the 295 Waco gliders that landed in Normandy could have been repaired for use in future operations, the combat situation did not permit the introduction of troop carrier service units; consequently, 97 percent of all gliders used in the operation were abandoned in the field.6

The website warchronicle.com says that the British 6th Airborne Division’s undated casualty report states, “the first two days fighting cost the division over 800 casualties in battle,” while in addition, “the missing from the drop still numbered approx 1,000.” A War Office analysis gives the final figures of missing for the two parachute brigades in the initial airborne operation as 658 all ranks. The glider units would presumably raise it to at least 800; in addition, glider pilot casualties are given at ninety-five. Since the fighting on 7 June was considerably less intense than that on D-Day, perhaps 600 of the 800 “battle” casualties might be assigned to 6 June. This would give a roughly estimated total of 1,500 D-Day casualties for Normandy—a figure comparable with those for the U.S. airborne divisions.7

(Note: The British 6th Airborne totals included the 1st Canadian Parachute Battalion. A Canadian source says that, of the 543 Canadian paras who parachuted into France on D-Day, 367 were either killed, died of wounds, went missing, or were taken prisoner—a staggering loss of 65 percent. In Saunders’ The Red Beret, the number killed is given as ten officers and 120 enlisted men.)8

It should also be noted that the British/Canadian figures are skewed because none of the airborne units were pulled out of combat and returned to a rest area at the same time. Hill’s 3rd Brigade, with the attached Canadians, was relived at Le Mesnil on 17 June and allowed to rest along the banks of the Orne River. The British 6th Airborne, for example, remained in Normandy until 17 August, at which time it was involved in the eastward pursuit of the Germans. In September, they were returned to England to prepare for Operation Market Garden.9

The 1st Canadian Parachute Battalion that took part in the Battle of Normandy had to be reorganized and retrained in order to regain its strength and combat-readiness. In December 1944, the paratroopers sailed for Belgium on Christmas Day. They took part in the Battle of the Bulge, and in March 1945, jumped the Rhine during Varsity. At war’s end, the Canadians—still part of Hill’s 3rd Parachute Brigade—reached Wismar, Germany, on the Baltic Sea on 2 May 1945.10

The two American airborne divisions were joined in Europe by a third—the 13th and 17th—and all but the 13th played major roles in other operations, such as Market Garden in September 1944, the Battle of the Bulge, and Operation Varsity—the largest airborne/glider operation of the war.11

NORMANDY CASUALTIES FOR the 82nd Airborne (out of 11,770: 885 officers, 10,885 enlisted men):

KIA/DOWWIAMIA

325th Glider Infantry Regiment 200650 36

2/401st Glider Infantry Regiment 74247 6

505th Parachute Infantry Regiment 186656111

507th Parachute Infantry Regiment 251622341

508th Parachute Infantry Regiment 333487165

Other units:117297 61

Totals: 1,161 2,95972012

For the 101st Airborne (out of 14,201: 951 officers, 13,250 enlisted men):

KIA/DOWWIAMIA

327th Glider Infantry Regiment 10340615

501st Parachute Infantry Regiment 213490195

502nd Parachute Infantry Regiment (est.)20060050

506th Parachute Infantry Regiment 231569183

Other units: Unknown

Totals:868 2,303 66513

Note: These figures do not include the aircrews of the IX Troop Carrier Command who became casualties on D-Day. It is estimated that, of the 1,034 American glider pilots dispatched during Neptune, 57 were killed or listed as missing.14

THESE ARE COLD, hard, pitiless statistics. For each KIA number, there had once been a living, breathing human being—someone’s son, husband, brother, nephew, or father. For each number, there was an anguished, grieving family who would forever mourn their loss, who would change the color of the star on the service flag in their window from blue to gold. For them, ultimate victory would come not with joy, but with great, overwhelming, indelible sadness.

But the dead were, and are, remembered. Chaplain Francis L. Sampson, 501/101st, reflected, “The French people of the little city of Sainte-Mère-Église had arranged that each family adopt a couple of graves. On Sundays and Holy Days they bedecked them with flowers, promising always to remember those soldiers in their prayers. This promise still holds good. American visitors to the cemetery [above Omaha Beach] are always moved by the sight of a French family placing fresh flowers on a grave or kneeling there offering their prayers for the soul of an adopted son or brother whom they had never seen in life.”15

And what of the soldiers who survived? What are their enduring thoughts and memories of their time in the cauldron of combat? Canadian Lance Sergeant John Feduck reflected, “You think about your comrades who will not be coming home. To this day, I remember and think of the chaps left behind. The men I fought with were the best, and could be counted on. You never had to worry about help or any other things. They were the finest bunch of men you would want to go to war with. Most of our leaders were great…. As a sergeant, the men I commanded were first rate.”16

Sergeant Otis Sampson of the 82nd Airborne, who was wounded in Holland, summed up his thoughts: “The Germans we fought against during my combat days fought fairly, as far as I know. There are ‘stories,’ but it happened on both sides. I didn’t find any ‘Super Race,’ as Hitler tried to make us believe. They, too, believed in God and prayed to Him as we did. On their belt buckles was the motto, ‘Got Mit Uns’—‘God is With Us.’ But they had to be stopped before they became a ‘World Power.’

“The Gods of War were good to me,” continued Sampson, “for I was to serve under such men as General Gavin, Colonel Vandervoort, Lieutenant Waverly Wray, who was killed while taking the railroad bridge in Nijmegen and was awarded the Medal of Honor, posthumously, and others who proved to me their courage and leadership. A friendship built up through combat that united all of us as a steel weld.”17

Richard Todd, who proved to be as fine an officer as he was an actor, recalled, “On the whole I think D-Day was the most significant day in the history of the world. Today we move around with freedom we simply wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for D-Day. Never has the world gone into action in such a way. Thank goodness we survived and managed to win the battle.”18

WHAT, IN THE end, was the legacy of the airborne in Operation Overlord/Neptune? It would be foolish, not to mention incorrect, for anyone to assert that the three airborne divisions, with their attached glider support, won D-Day for the Allies. But it would be equally absurd to down-play, as some historians have done, the importance of the airborne and glider operations. Certainly the sky soldiers caused great confusion in the German ranks, caused them to hesitate and look over their shoulders to wonder where the next drop or landing was coming from, and led them to question whether Overlord/Neptune was the “real thing” or a large-scale diversion designed to make them move their reserves to counter the threat in Normandy. In that respect, the airborne/glider contribution to victory was enormous.

What made Neptune such a stunning Allied success was not the careful planning that went into it—and certainly the execution left much to be desired. No, what made Neptune the triumph it was was the courage, cunning, and indefatigable spirit of the Allied airborne/glider soldier—whether he was American, British, or Canadian. Each man knew that he was about to be thrust into a cauldron of fire and terror and death, for which his extensive training provided only the scantest of preparation. The relatively small number of Allied troops who had already been in combat knew what dangers and horrors awaited them, but for the most part the men who took part in the operation were combat virgins. That they overcame the mountain of obstacles and performed as admirably as they did says volumes about their courage and character—and their ability to take the lemons that were handed to them and create the sweet tasting lemonade of victory. As Brigaider S. James Hill so accurately predicted, chaos did reign—but only for a short while.

The British Military Cemetery at Ranville holds the remains of over 2,000 British and Canadian soldiers and airmen, many of whom are paratroops and glider troops. Other Canadian troops rest in the cemetery north of Beny-sur-Mer and Hermanville-sur-Mer. At the American Military Cemetery overlooking the hallowed ground known as Omaha Beach, 9,387 Americans are buried, many of who were members of the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions who gave their lives for the liberty of France and Europe. At the colonnade and reflecting pool, there is also a large statue representing the “Spirit of American Youth” ascending to the heavens.

But, from just the right angle, and in just the right light, especially if a tear happens to form in the corner of one’s eye, this figure also resembles an airborne soldier descending to earth. May the world continue to hold in high esteem the sky soldiers who rode the wind and disregarded all consequences.