Men of D-Day

 Troop Carrier
Michael N. Ingrisano
Robert E. Callahan
Benjamin F. Kendig
John R. Devitt
Arthur W. Hooper
Ward Smith
Julian A. Rice
Charles E. Skidmore
Sherfey T. Randolph
Louis R. Emerson Jr.
Leonard L. Baer
Robert D. Dopita
Harvey Cohen
Zane H. Graves
John J. Prince
Henry C. Hobbs
John C. Hanscom
Charles S. Cartwright
 82nd Airborne
Leslie Palmer Cruise Jr.
Marie-T Lavieille
Denise Lecourtois
Howard Huebner
Malcolm D. Brannen
Thomas W. Porcella
Ray T. Burchell
Robert C. Moss
Richard R. Hill
Edward W. Shimko
 101st Airborne
John Nasea, Jr
David 'Buck' Rogers
Marie madeleine Poisson
Roger Lecheminant
Dale Q. Gregory
George E. Willey
Raymond Geddes
 Utah Beach
Joseph S. Jones
Jim McKee
Eugene D. Shales
Milton Staley
 Omaha Beach
Melvin B. Farrell
James R. Argo
Carl E. Bombardier
Robert M. Leach
Joseph Alexander
James Branch
John Hooper
Anthony Leone
George A. Davison
James H. Jordan
Albert J. Berard
Jewel M. Vidito
H. Smith Shumway
Louis Occelli
John H. Kellers
Harley A. Reynolds
John C. Raaen
Wesley Ross
Richard J. Ford
William C. Smith
Ralph E. Gallant
James W. Gabaree
James W. Tucker
Robert Watson
Robert R. Chapman
Robert H. Searl
Leslie Dobinson
William H. Johnson
 Gold Beach
George F. Weightman
Norman W. Cohen
Walter Uden
 Juno Beach
Leonard Smith
 Sword Beach
Brian Guy
 6th Airborne
Roger Charbonneau
Frederick Glover
Jacques Courcy
Arlette Lechevalier
Charles S. Pearson
Harvey Jacobs
William O. Gifford
Philippe Bauduin
Albert Lefevre
René Etrillard
Suzanne Lesueur
Marie Thierry


Marie-T Lavieille born Champel
Prétot - Manche

6 JUNE 1944. 0600 hrs.

In the heart of the Cotentin peninsula, on an isolated farm held by my mother, I awoke abruptly. What was happening? I was under the impression that the wall that my bed was against trembled and resounded. Then I heard some voices in the kitchen.

Quickly, I got up and discovered an unusual scene. A man, quite bizarre, was seated in a chair in the middle of our kitchen. He wore sort of a khaki uniform, very soft and flexible, with pockets throughout.

On his head, he wore a helmet covered with leaves, while his face was camouflaged in black. He spoke using words that I could not understand. My mother and my brothers surrounded him, and were trying to guess what he was saying.

His left hand seemed to support his arm, Without ceasing, he repeated « broken… broken.. »

Suddenly, releasing his arm, he pulled out a knife that was contained in a sheath on his lower leg. He then cut a strip from a roll of bandage that had been in a pocket in his pants. And, most wonderfully, he pulled out a chocolate bar that he gave to us.

This man, quite strange, was, thus, our friend…

« Broken… » this first English word remains burned into my memory.

The paratrooper of the 82nd Airborne Division was lost in the Norman countryside, on this morning, and had a broken shoulder. One of my brothers drove him to a place where he was cared for.

For me, I was just 9 years old, - and because of this extraordinary experience? - I became an English professor, often serving as an interpreter during ceremonies of the anniversary of D-Day….

Marie-T Lavieille     (April 05, 2001)

Translation from French by Thad J. Russell