D-Day. We were not rushing, but driving along casually, - looking, and killing time until we got the order to report to the port of embarkation.

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1 D-Day It was a rather gray morning, rather usual for an early June day in England.Colonel Ellis, the Division Artillery Executive, and I had just finished an early breakfast and were ready to set out on an inspection trip to the 823 rd Tank Destroyer Bn which was attached to the 30th Inf Div Arty. We had planned the trip the night before. The 823 rd was located some thirty or forty miles west of us at a little town the name of which I have forgotten. All of the troops had comp1eted the preparations for the "hop" across the Channel, everything was "buttoned up" and ship-shape and there was nothing much to do except to keep the troops occupied and in good physical condition. It was a time in which the waiting could have a bad effect and the troops could get stale or nervous. So we were a little concerned about how the 823 rd was getting along. We had had no direct contact with them, as we had with our other troops in the immediate vicinity, and the General (General McLain) felt that we should visit them, see how they were getting along, and make them feel that they were a part of our team and we were interested in them. Hence, the trip, while official and in order, was a sort of holiday for me as I had been held closely to headquarters planning, checking, and supervising. Unlike most Operations Officers I did not do a great deal of supervision in the field, as I found that to keep ahead of the game I had to spend most of my time in the headquarters and in the coordinating with my immediate superior and lower headquarters. Most of my supervision came through the G-3 and the battalion S-3 s by phone, or in our weekly S-3 conferences. So this was to be a day in which I was "going along for the ride" because as we had done all that we could, including the plans of action upon our landing in Normandy, there was nothing else to do. We were all packed and ready to roll at a moment s notice. Every one was on a standby alert. We had our breakfast ahead of the other members of the staff so that we could get an early start. Our mess hall was located in an old "student hostelry of some sort about 200 yards from the house in which we were billeted. It was about one mile west of Chalfont St Peters, and about ten miles from Amersham at which Division Headquarters was located. It was about 6:45 AM, June 6 th, when we came out of the mess hall, checked in at Div Arty headquarters, and embarked for our inspection trip of the 823 rd TD Bn. We started east along a country road, pass the old church and the cemetery in which William Penn was buried, and then turned south to get on the main east-west highway. We had one of the fine detailed maps of the area, and we purposely tried to keep off of the main highway and to use the back roads as much as possible simply for the sight-seeing value. As we drove along the mist gradually cleared and the day became quite sun-shiny and beautiful. We were much struck with the beauty of the country, the tidy little farms, the neat little houses, and the soft, green grass, I recall particularly one rather large house around which there was a beautiful hedge, and at intervals along the hedge there were clipped out of hedge several birds standing some six to ten feet above the top of the hedge. This was done by allowing the hedge to grow eight to ten feet above the smooth top of the hedge and then clipping this extension in the shape of the birds. We were not rushing, but driving along casually, - looking, and killing time until we got the order to report to the port of embarkation. It developed into a beautiful morning, and all of the country folks were out on the road or in the fields. It was so calm, and quiet, and peaceful that we remarked how unbelievable that a war would be in

2 progress! And another unusual feature was that there was noticeable lack of the big bombers on their way to and from their fields. Maybe this was because we had driven out of the regular path that they took across the Channel, or because we were a little too early or too late to catch them as they were returning, but at any rate we noted that they were not so active as usual and we sort of assumed they were probably checking equipment and resting the crews for the big show. One other incident happened after about an hour's ride that made us a little angry and also self-righteous. Riding along a country road we came upon a stretch of country with relatively low hedges and large fields. In a stretch of one or two miles we saw several, at least more than one, gliders that were resting on the ground, with no guards and no military unit in sight. On these gliders or small observation planes, for which we evidently mistook them, there were the white and black stripes painted on the wings. That is what made us angry. We had explicit orders that our artillery, observation planes were to be painted in that manner, but that under no circumstances were they to be seen by anyone except the crews and that they were not to be exposed-until D-Day. This was a top-secret operation and we took it in deadly seriousness as we assumed all others did. That is what brought our feeling of self-righteousness - that we had a military unit and lived up to orders, but some "boy-scouts" had nothing else to do except leave these planes lying around exposed to the public without any consideration for the rest of us. We spent some time in "cussing" some poor, unknown, unit for being so unmilitary. Finally about 10:30 AM or thereabouts, after an enjoyable and leisurely pleasure drive through the beautiful English country-side we drove up to the Headquarters of the 823 rd TD Bn which was located in a rather isolated farm house. In glancing around we saw that everything was packed up and ready to roll, but there did not seem to be many men around. It was calm and quiet in keeping with the beautiful morning. We strolled leisurely into the Headquarters, which was a large room opening onto the porch or steps, and the commander of the 823 rd reported to Colonel Ellis. There were several officers and enlisted men gathered at a table in a corner of the room on which was a radio which had been cut off when we were recognized as big brass from Div Arty HQ. Colonel Ellis, is his regular army manner, looked around sharply without saying anything, and then walked over to the field desk and looked at some papers lying on it. He was playing his part as the representative of the Commanding General on an inspection trip and he wanted to be properly impressive. Colonel Ellis then asked a few simple questions, and then Lt. Col., the command- ing officer of the 823 rd TD Bn volunteered some additional information in response to one of the questions. This set Colonel Ellis off, as it had to do with some action that was to be taken by the commanders of units on D-Day, but was not to be taken until that day. And the commander had already set in motion the action which was required. I cannot remember what it was, but it was some little something similar to that of not exposing the new markings on the wings of airplanes until D-Day. The commander tried to get in a word, but Colonel Ellis was sort of upset by having seen those exposed airplanes with markings, and he was not going to have anyone connected with the 30th Inf Div, even by attachment, failing to do things exactly as they should be done. Finally, the commander did get in a sentence that "This is D-Day!" We looked at him as if he was a bit confused, but his statement at least cooled us off. Colonel Ellis demanded that he repeat what he had just aid, The

3 Commander did and Colonel Ellis told him that he was crazy, and asked him how he got such a notion. He said that he had heard it on the radio, and Colonel Ellis asked him if he got any, of his orders or military information from commercial radio; that in his book the commander of attached units got their orders from the parent unit, and as we were his parent unit he would get his orders from us! The commander expostulated that these were standing orders that were to be put into execution as soon as D-Day was declared, and he didn't think he had to wait for any other orders. Then Colonel Ellis played his trump by asking the Commander where he got official information on which to act. The commander asked Colonel to come over to the radio, it was full of information about D-Day, and had included a declaration from General Eisenhower himself, and that there was no doubt but what the landing on the Normandy beaches had been launched at dawn that morning. Everybody in England, and perhaps in the civilized world, knows that this is D-Day, and have known it since early this morning. So we went over to the radio and turned it up, and sure enough it was either D-Day or else the British BBC was putting on one of the biggest hoaxes since The Men from Mars by Orson Welles! We were finally convinced. And surprisingly enough, I had a feeling of relief. Now what we had been preparing for for the last four years was coming to pass: something that we had worked for and planned for, but which for some reason or other it was always on maps and against some theoretical force - not on the ground and against Germans with weapons. I think Colonel Ellis felt the same way, sort of like hearing the doctor, after a thorough physical examination, state that you had a rather serious condition - but it was not yet critical, and steps could be taken to relieve the condition. Now our reaction was somewhat different from what I had imagined it would be. There was no great excitement, nor throwing of hats in the air, nor bustling around. There was no confusion or rush to check to see if everything were ready. There was really nothing to do! There was, in contrast, no great fear, no anxiety as to whether you would measure up to the ordeal, no sadness as to what the cost in human life would be, no additional worry as to what one should do. The die was literally cast: D-Day was here, and we were on our way. There was no indecision, no thought of turning back or evasion. Not even a question as to whether you or your unit would measure up to its task. This was IT. And that was all. We were as ready as we would ever be. And I believe that I am not reading back, after fifteen years of confidence that I had in our unit that it would, as it had always done in tests and maneuvers, measure up to the very highest standards. In short, I was confident, but with that confidence there was an unusual feeling of relaxation such as one feels who yawns when he is in a condition of suspense! But perhaps this reaction was best shown by our actions immediately following our acceptance that D-Day had slipped up on us and we had not even known it. The first thing we did was to slip off our pistol and belt, take off our caps, and have a cup of coffee with the 823 rd Hq group as we talked over what, we might expect, and when we might expect it. We simply sat down for a quiet chat over a cup of coffee, which consumed about a half an hour. They wanted us to stay for lunch, but we felt that perhaps we had better get back so that we would be available in case anything did turn up at our headquarters. Normally, I expect we would have "inspected" around sufficiently long so that we would eat lunch with them, and then ride back in time for supper. However, our "inspection" turned to a matter of informal conversation and what we might expect, which was largely conjecture, except that we would not again see the 823 rd FA Bn until they joined us in Normandy. Our departure for "home" was not in the least dramatic. It was a simple "See you in France" and we rode off.

4 Our trip back was even more interesting that the trip over. We had become more "historically minded", or at least I had. Here I had been preparing for one of the great military events in history and this was the day that it started. And it had started without my even being conscious of it. My folks at home in North Carolina had known about it hours before I had! Really this was being so close to history that you couldn't even see it! And now that we knew that this was the day it sort of behooved us to suck in as many impressions as we could so that we could tell the folks back home when we were old soldiers sitting back in the sunshine. It never occurred to me that I would not live to be an old soldier". I recall, that we spent some time raking amends to the unknown units that had wrecked those gliders in taking off for France, as we now knew how they happened to be in those fields. I remember that as none of them were badly smashed up we surmised that there had been no casualties, and, we wondered if they were re:embarked and, joined their unit. We had the feeling of sympathy that an experienced soldier has for a man who belongs to a unit and then is separated from it, from all of his friends, from those who care for him, and is tossed into the mechanical maws of a "Replacement Depot" where he becomes a serial number attached to a live body. We weren't being brave or romantic about this: we simply knew that we had rather be with our unit, wherever it was, than turned loose as an individual in an army, about whom nobody cared or looked after. Our drive back was as leisurely as the morning drive, our chief purpose being, to kill time that had nothing to offer except to be killed. We knew now that it was only a matter of waiting, and that this waiting had to be filled in with the least boredom.and a casual drive through a beautiful countryside was as far from boredom as one could get. Ore particular event stands out on this return trip. We were traveling along a side road that lead down to a crossroad about which were clustered several dwellings. Our approach road was wider than usual, and ran into a relatively deep cut - some several feet below the banks. Overflowing the banks were red rose bushes billowing over onto the bank - in full bloom. And playing on the road bank were three little children, ages from five to ten, one a little boy. I do not remember what they were playing, or whether they were playing anything in particular, but they were busily engaged in their own little private world, happily unaware of anything else. At the crossroads were a couple of women who were evidently on their way to lunch, both of who waved casually as we passed. But whenever I think of D-Day the first thought that I have is red roses and little children at play - and overhead planes! I do remember asking Colonel Ellis, much to his surprise and amazement, if it weren t possible that the three little children were more realistic in their attitude, and making a greater contribution to civilization than we were in our great Crusade. This theme must have been much on my mind on this historic ride, as I did arouse him to some degree of anger, mixed with disgust, when we passed a number of cows contently grazing in a beautiful sun-lit meadow, with no disturbance other then an occasional fly that they flicked off with a lazy toss of their tails. I raised the question that it seemed paradoxical to me that the two of us, products of the western Christian civilization, should be calmly approaching the mass killing of human beings that we had never seen, discussing it calmly and unemotionally, without any other aim in life than to kill efficiently so that we would not be killed, all in the name of Peace and Law and what we called Freedom which it seemed to me if taken literally would, for an individual, would most certainly be a little disconcerting to any Peace and Law of which I could conceive. And I suggested further that we might take a lesson from those cows whom it seemed to me, were enjoying Peace and Freedom, within their own kind of law, in a much more complete way than we were! I told him it seemed to me

5 to be ridiculous that we two civilized human beings should be seeking Peace by making War; maintaining Law by acting in as Lawless a way as necessary in order to impose our will on the Germans; and looking for Freedom by voluntarily subjecting our actions to the inevitable Slavery of the military code of discipline! I believe that he thought I was nuts, but I had known him long enough and he knew me well enough, that he listened to me with very little impatience and encouraged me slightly by asking me how else it could be done. And I am quite sure that it never occurred to him to question my loyalty or my ability or my desire to carry out my duties as a soldier, nor to turn me in to the Military Intelligence (G-2) section as a possible subversive! We had quite an interesting conversation, mostly on trying to define such terms as Peace, Law, Slavery, Freedom, and Justice. So we continued our tour of the countryside enroute back to headquarters. I do not recall any impressions of anything unusual when we got back, at least not anything of such importance that it could he recalled after these years. There was the usual good-natured badgering of the same junior officers, particularly those who had contracted same rather close friendships with the young ladies of the neighboring towns. But there was no tension of any note, nor any gluing one-self to the radio, for so far as I can recall we did not get very much interested in the radio from the waves outside of the military channels until we got to France. Then we did get quite a kick out of the German propaganda channels, particularly their music. Perhaps I am, in recollection, shutting out some impressions that were not too happy to contemplate or some fears that were too deep seated and pervasive as to be isolated. In support of this I have no clear recollections of any specific events after the 6th of June 1944, until me got a call the next day for one battalion of artillery to move to the port at once to replace a battalion of the 29th Inf Div that was swamped in trying to get from ship to shore. Perhaps my thoughts during the few days immediately following were too much for me and I have blotted them out. But I do remember that D-Day was to me a sort of anti-climax. I found out about it accidentally, several hours after it happened. I remember it not as a day of great drama or suspense, but as a beautiful sun-shiny day, a very enjoyable pleasure trip in the English country, a profusion of red roses streaming over a high bank on the side of the road with little children playing in their shade, and a stimulating conversation about the absurdity of the actions to which we had committed ourselves and to which we were unswervingly devoted. Actually it appeared to me that I could not do other than I was doing, but at the same time I could not for one moment try to defend as being right, the action the killing of others. This paradox stayed with me throughout the war, and is still with me. I could kill; but I could not then nor can I now defend killing. So D-day passed, and we awaited our turn to cross the channel. It came shortly. F. C. Shepard May 18 th, 1959