Winds of Omaha Beach

    Winds of Omaha Beach

Suzanne Marsh

June 5^th, 1944, Somewhere in England

“Mac, I have some good news and some bad news which do you want first?”

“Ah, give me the bad news first.”

“We are jumping tonight into Sainte Mere Eglise.”

“Great, what is the good news?”

“The wind has slowed down enough for us to jump; Ike says its a go.”

“My men will be ready to go; what time do we load?

“00:00hours...good luck Mac.”

Captain Michael “Mac” MacDuffy put his helmet on his head and headed for Headquarters to receive his orders. It had been hell the last few days; his men were bored. The weather was still not great but at least the wind had subsided enough so they could jump. They had all waited with bated breath held for someone to tell them something.

June 6^th, 1944, 00:00 hours

“Check your gear; make sure the chutes and rip cord are functioning.”

Planes began to load as the paratroopers formed rank to begin their journey into whatever fate held for them. PFC Jack Thomm and Corporal Bill Jackson prepared themselves as the Chaplin prayed with them for their safety. The airplane engines roared to life. The men boarded the planes. Each man had a cricket clicker one had to be answered by two clicks. Little did they know how important that little toy would be in keeping them alive.

Normandy was fast approaching; the plane began to descend to jump level. They waited impatiently for the green light. Suddenly things began to happen. Ack ack guns began to fire. The green light came on, the jump master yelled: “JUMP”. The first parachutist drops from the sky, soon the entire sky was white parachutes against the blackened sky. The decent was treacherous, Bill and Jack like the rest of the men began to feel the air current; they were being blown off their intended drop zone. The ack ack guns were doing their job well. Several planes crashed into the treetops setting the sky ablaze. Bill and Jack luckily landed in a small hedgerow ten miles from their drop point. They cut their chutes clamoring to the hard ground from the trees above.

“Bill, where are we? This ain’t the drop zone.”

“Jack, we got blown off course I have no idea where we are.”

“Hey, Bill I hear a cricket.”

“Jack don’t move simply respond with two clicks remember?”

“You think it might be a German?”

“It is possible, better to be safe than sorry.”

They waited, hidden in the hedgerow until they heard:

“Hey Bill, Jack are you two over here? We were blown off course and landed in a chicken

coop. Man, was that French woman mad at us.”

Bill and Jack snickered as they pictured Phil Macklin and Don Smith, still with feathers sticking out of their helmets. That gave them four in their group; the objective was to find the rest of the company. Bill pulled out his compass and began to move toward Sainte Mere Eglise, hoping he was making the right decision. They moved swiftly once they had their bearings. Somehow the night sky seemed even darker; fear of capture loomed in their minds. Jack kept mumbling:

“Name, rank and serial number if captured.”

“Jack, you ain’t gonna need to tell no one your name, rank and serial number. We ain’t gonna

get caught. The Germans will see us as small potatoes they want to capture officers. They

want information that we don’t have. Now, come on, we are gonna get through this.”

They began to move out again, when they heard another cricket, then another. They responded with two clicks. Out of the darkness appeared a familiar figure Captain “Mac” MacDuffy. All four men let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Hey, Captain where are we exactly?”

MacDuffy took off his helmet, which contained a map of the area, studying it.

“We aren’t far from Mere Eglise.”

Once again ack-ack fire began. They looked up toward the sky to see the second wave of paratroopers descending. The ack-ack stopped; gun fire began abruptly. They could hear people screaming in fright; the Germans still held Mere Eglise. The towns people were terrified of the Nazis; they had been living under their control. Some residents were resistance fighters; hoping to drive the Nazi’s out of France. Pierre Bast and Jean Averil stood silently watching the parachutes descend with men and ammunition. The resistance needed both, but these men carried only enough for their mission. General Heinrich Von Marx was on the stat phone screaming:

“We are being invaded; D-Day has begun. I know this is Normandy for damn fool! I am telling

you there are parachutes coming down here Mere Eglise like snow in Bavaria. I am going to

send a battalion into Mere Eglise immediately. Call the Fuehrer immediately and inform him

of what is happening.”

He slammed the phone down hard; he could not believe the idiocy of the men in Berlin. Just as he sent the order to move on Mere Eglise a phone call came from General Alfred Jodl:

“Ah, my dear Heinrich I cannot awaken the Fuehrer, he had one of his bouts. He should

awake in ten hours or so. I give you the order to do as you wish; I cannot release the

Panzer divisions until the Fuehrer awakens and he gives the order directly.”

“I don’t think you understand what I am saying the invasion has begun; we require the Panzer’s

now!”

“Sorry Heinrich I cannot awaken the Fuehrer.”

Heinrich wondered what he was supposed to hold off the allies with two battalions of Wehrmacht comprised of old men and young boys. This was a desperate situation. The Germans arrived in Mere Eglise just as the first parachutes touched ground. It fast became a turkey shoot; there were so many targets. Pierre Bast and Jean Averil began to move toward the edge of town where the resistance hid. They had to do something to aid those paratroopers, or they would not be able to take Mere Eglise. The men returned with resistance fighters; they began shooting at the Germans. Once the Americans landed in Mere Eglise, the resistance fighters faded off into the mist of early morning; they would continue to fight until France was free of German occupation; the allies continued to fight. Pierre Bast and Jean Averil received National Order of the Legion of Honor for their efforts in Mere Eglise.