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      |  | James H. Jordan Pfc, 1st platoon, L Co, 3rd Bn, 16th Infantry Regiment,
                  1st Division
 
         |  On June 6, 1944, I was a
              22-year-old Private First Class who was a member of the First Division,
              16th Regiment, 3rd Battalion, L Company, 1st Platoon. I was on the
              first wave of the assault and landed on Omaha Beach.  At about 4:00 A.M. on the
              morning of June 6th, we began boarding the landing crafts (ours
              was designated an LCA) that would take us to the shore. Each had
              thirty men on board. For the assault, I carried thirty pounds of
              TNT, twenty clips of ammunition, a combat vest, pills, K-rations,
              special clothing in case of a gas attack, a shovel, and a lot of
              other equipment that I can no longer remember. In all, the gear
              weighed about 75 pounds while I weighed 170. We were told we would
              have to run across three hundred yards of open beach while under
              machine gun and artillery fire, and we knew that casualties would
              be high. I was a member of a demolitions squad consisting of five
              soldiers and our assignment was to destroy the concrete bunkers
              built into the beach from which German machine guns fired. Once on board, our LCA was
              lowered into the water, which was very rough. One of the LCA's from
              our ship capsized just after it entered the water and six of the
              men were drowned. Once our boat was in the water, we proceeded to
              the staging area where we circled for about an hour or more, until
              all of the landing craft were ready for the assault. Once all landing crafts were
              on line, the order for the invasion to begin was given and we headed
              for the beach. To both my right and left and as far as I could see,
              landing crafts were headed at full speed to the Normandy coastline.
              With the sun rising, it was a remarkable sight. Almost immediately,
              we came under fire. Within minutes, for some
              reason, our boat started to take on water and we began to lag behind
              the other landing crafts. About seventy-five yards from the shore,
              with our boat sinking, our Platoon Commander, Lieutenant Kenneth
              Klink, gave the order to abandon ship. Just as he gave the order,
              we took a direct hit by an artillery shell to the middle of the
              craft, killing a number of men instantly. The ramp was dropped and
              those who were able began to get out. Several more men were killed
              or drowned as they exited the front of the boat. Some men climbed
              over the side. I had been seated in the back of the boat and attempted
              to get out the front. In order to make it to the exit ramp, I had
              to step over the bodies of my fellow soldiers and friends who were
              now lying dead on the floor of the boat. As I got close to the ramp
              I was hit by a large wave that knocked me all the way to the back
              of the boat. Again, I made my way to the front and managed to leave
              the boat just as it was sinking behind me. I was the last man off. As I stepped off, another
              large wave hit me and I went completely under the water. With the
              weight of all the gear on my back, I began to sink fast and knew
              that I was about to drown. Fortunately, I was able to get my pack
              off and reach the surface of the water. I then swam to shore. As
              badly as things had begun for me, once I made it to the beach, it
              got worse. The entire beach was a killing
              field. Artillery and machine gun fire were exploding all around
              me. Men were lying dead and wounded on the beach. Since I had lost
              my rifle along with my gear, I picked up a rifle lying on the beach
              and began running forward with the aim of reaching a three to four
              foot high sea wall about two hundred yards inland. Because I no
              longer had the heavy pack on my back, I was able to cover a lot
              of ground fast. As I was running across the beach, machine gun bullets
              began whizzing past me and hitting the ground just inches from my
              feet. Thinking that a German machine gunner had me as a target,
              I hit the ground. I laid there motionless, hoping the German machine
              gunner would think he had killed me and stop firing in my direction.
              It must have worked because the bullets that had been landing right
              next to me stopped. After a few seconds on the ground, I got up
              and continued running. Just as I got to within about twenty feet
              of the sea wall, an artillery shell passed over my head and landed
              about fifteen feet behind me. As I heard the shell pass over my
              head, I immediately hit the ground again. The shrapnel from the
              explosion passed over me but hit five men who had just reached the
              sea wall in front of me. Two of the men were killed instantly and
              three were wounded, including our company commander, Captain John
              Armellino, who subsequently lost his leg as a result of the explosion.
              I got up again and ran the remaining distance to the sea wall and
              the minimal shelter that it offered. Somehow I had made it across
              the beach. Of the thirty men from my landing craft, only twelve
              were now left. The invasion had been underway for about an hour. I then discovered the rifle
              I had picked up from the beach wouldn't fire, probably due to being
              clogged with sand. I picked up a second rifle that was on the beach
              close to the sea wall. This one wouldn't fire, either. After the
              third rifle I found wouldn't fire, I realized I would have to clean
              it in order to have a functioning weapon. So, while still behind
              the sea wall, I stripped down the M-1 and cleaned the trigger housing
              with a toothbrush that I still had from one of my pockets. That
              one worked. Lieutenant Klink, who had
              also successfully crossed the beach, took charge of what was left
              of our platoon and we began climbing a hillside in an attempt to
              accomplish the mission. After proceeding a short distance, we had
              to retreat back to the beach because the hillside was on fire and
              there was no way forward. As we were returning, I pointed out an
              area to Lieutenant Klink where I had seen Lieutenant Montieth's
              2nd Platoon, also of L Company, go to get off the beach. (Lieutenant
              Montieth was to be killed a few hours later. He was posthumously
              awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for his heroism that day.)
              Lieutenant Klink decided that we would proceed in the same direction. As we started to climb the
              hillside, we were blocked from advancing by a heavy mass of barbed
              wire. I went back down to the beach where I was able to find a bandoleer
              torpedo and returned with it to our position. We then used the torpedo
              to detonate the obstacle and, with our path cleared, continued our
              advancement. Soon after we began to move
              forward again, we became engaged in a hand grenade battle with the
              Germans at the top of the ridge. Because of the steepness of the
              hill, most of the grenades the Germans were throwing would roll
              down the hill past me before exploding. Unfortunately, one didn't.
              One grenade rolled to within less than ten feet of me and the explosion
              blew me completely off the ground. I was thrown about five feet
              in the air and landed hard on my back. As I was getting up, I heard
              Lieutenant Klink give the order to fix bayonets. We then continued
              up the hillside and a short time later knocked the Germans out and
              secured the area. It wasn't until then that I realized I had been
              wounded by shrapnel in my left leg from the grenade. A medic treated
              my wounds and that night I was evacuated off the Normandy beach
              to a hospital ship. At the start of the day,
              my company consisted of one hundred and eighty-seven men. By nightfall,
              only seventy-nine were left. For me, the day had been frightening,
              exhausting and painful in many ways. Yet, I was more fortunate than
              many others - I had survived. James H. Jordan     (March 28, 2003) P.S. To Patrick Elie:
              Thank you. I am honored that someone from France would take the
              time to inquire of my experiences that day. -- James H. Jordan Note from Jackson H. Jordan: For his
              actions at Normandy on June 6th, 1944, my father was awarded the
              Silver Star, Bronze Star and Purple Heart. In July 1944, after recovering
              from his wounds at Normandy, he rejoined his unit at St. Lo, France
              where he was again wounded, this time severely. He was evacuated
              to England and eventually back to the United States where he spent
              approximately one year recovering in a hospital in Richmond, Virginia.
              Today, he lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. (Submitted by Jackson Jordan, March 28, 2003)
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