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World War II veteran Arthur Rose read a letter written a few days after June 6, 1944, at a Saturday ceremony in Normandy, France, as part of a commemoration of the 82 years since D-Day.
“Dear mom and dad and kids, About a month before we landed, I had a feeling I might be part of the invasion. I couldn’t quite believe, though, that I would. I kept thinking, what could I possibly do in an invasion? Pull engines in the middle of a battle? I figured men like me would come along afterwards — after they cleared the wreckage and the damage had passed,” Rose read to the crowd.
“But two weeks before D-Day, I was told I would go along and do whatever I could. We had moved to the assault port. Thousands of ships and landing craft of every description filled the harbor. Everyone worked day and night preparing fuel, provisions, ammunition and secret material. Everything was checked and rechecked and checked again. You can imagine the confusion and activity,” he continued.
“Then came the day we began loading supplies for the invasion: food, blankets, ammunition, and all the countless things that would be needed once the men landed in France. We knew then the invasion could not be far. Then came the word: D-Day will be June 6th,” Rose read.
WORLD WAR II VETERANS TRAVEL TO NORMANDY FOR EMOTIONAL D-DAY COMMEMORATION
“I can’t describe the feeling exactly. It wasn’t fear, and it wasn’t excitement. Just a funny feeling — nervousness, expectancy, and wondering what was going to happen next. Then we sailed. The sea was rough, windy, and miserable. I was seasick most of the time. Everyone expected bombing, submarines, battleships, and all hell to break loose at any moment. But the first attempt was called off because the sea was too rough, and we returned to the harbor. That was a real letdown,” Rose continued to read.
“The next day, we sailed again. Near the coast of France, we could see flashes in the distance and hear the explosions continuously. In went the landing craft. We expected terrible destruction, as there was shelling, and men died. But not all of us,” he read.
“Then our work truly began: back and forth, day and night, bringing in equipment, medical supplies, and ammunition. What had once been just another stretch of French coast had suddenly become a vast harbor filled with hundreds of ships and thousands of men.”
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At this point, Arthur stopped reading and said aloud, “I don’t remember writing this,” before continuing.
“I will always be grateful to my commander for taking me along. Don’t worry about me. I am well, and whole, and happy. Love, Art,” he concluded.
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