Braden Giroux

D-Day by Braden Giroux

CHAPTER ONE: Preparation

It was June 5th, 1944. We had just finished an early dinner, and had gone back to our barracks to sleep before getting ready for our jump onto the beaches of Normandy shortly after midnight. Over the past few months, we had been training tirelessly day in and day out in preparation for this day, and I knew my battle plans and strategies like the back of my hand. Still, I couldn’t help but feel nervous. The realization that in a few hours I would be jumping directly into heavily armed enemy territory from planes thousands of feet in the air had just truly started to hit me, and my mind was racing. Could these few hours be my last on Earth? Would I ever get back home and see my family again? I was ashamed to be having these thoughts. Now more than ever, I just needed to trust all my preparation, and trust my brothers. I knew I couldn’t be the only one who was feeling like this, so I decided rather than sitting on my bunk and drowning in anxiety, I would go talk to some friends in my company. I considered myself very lucky to be placed with the group I was, as I had grown tight with a few of the guys in Easy Company. Cooper Brown was probably my closest friend though. He was a tall, strong man, and honestly one of the kindest guys I had ever met. He was a good-looking guy, with brown eyes and short, wavy hair. We had spent hours over the last few months talking about home and our plans when we returned after the war, and we really did assure each other that it was “when,” not “if.”

“Coop!!” I said, “how you feelin’ ‘bout tomorrow big man?”

“Never been better. I mean, who wouldn’t be excited to land on a beach with thousands of soldiers ready to kill at any moment?” he responded.

I laughed, “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” We talked for a little while longer, debating which MLB teams we thought were going to win it all this year, as we usually did. I could tell he was nervous too. He was bouncing his knee up and down and twiddling his thumbs, which he always seemed to do when he was anxious about something. After about half an hour, we decided it would be best if we tried to catch some sleep, but we both knew damn well we weren’t going to be able to. I walked slowly back to my bunk, observing the rest

of the soldiers. Some played cards, some were just talking, some were writing letters back home, and some were running through cigarettes like there was no tomorrow, well to be fair, maybe there wasn’t. No matter what everyone was doing, I knew we all had the same thing on our minds. In just a few hours, we would all be in planes, preparing to make one of the biggest and most dangerous airborne assaults in recent history. I finally reached my bunk, laid down, and stared at the ceiling above me, lost in my thoughts. I mean, what else could I do?

CHAPTER TWO: The Jump

“Five minutes!!! Make sure that light is green before you jump,” Sergeant Stiles said.

Sergeant Stiles was a small stocky man, no more than 5’8. He was strong as hell though, I truly think that if he wanted to, he could beat anyone in Easy Company in a fight. He was a real hard-ass, but everyone respected him for keeping them in line, whether they liked it or not. He was a big NFL prospect at one point, but that was before he tore his ACL, everything went downhill from there. He hit a low point in his life with drinking and decided to enlist in the military, the rest is history. Everything was happening so fast, it feels like minutes ago I was lying in my bed staring at the ceiling, and now I was five minutes away from making the jump I had been preparing for for months.

“Everyone up, NOW!!” yelled Sergeant Stiles.

What happened next was a vital part of the success and safety of everyone jumping, the equipment check. We lined up in order, I was the tenth guy in line out of the twenty total in our plane. Once we were in order, the equipment checks began. Cooper was the guy behind me, so I trusted him to make sure I was all ready to go.

Cooper slapped my back and yelled, “Good!”

I did the same to the ninth man in line, and him to the eighth, and so on. Once the last check was finished, we broke through a group of clouds and were immediately met with a hellstorm of bullets. All I could hear were the sounds of bullets ricocheting off the plane and Sergeant Stiles yelling at us not to jump before the light turned green, no matter how much fire our plane was met with. Over the last couple weeks, that instruction seemed pretty easy, but in the moment, I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of that plane. I heard a loud boom to my right, and as I looked out the window, I saw that the engine had been hit and was now on fire. There was no doubt about it, this plane was going down, and the pilots must have known that because immediately 47

after the engine was hit, the red light turned green.

“Go, go, go! Remember your landing objectives! Goodbye and good luck soldiers!” yelled Sergeant Stiles as paratroopers began to pour out of the plane.

As it got closer and closer to my turn to jump, for some reason all I could think about were the pilots. They didn’t have any parachutes. They were literally sitting in their coffin as its crash became imminent. I offered up a quick prayer and then all of the sudden, it was my turn to jump. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and threw myself out of the plane into the intense rain and wind outside. I pulled my parachute the second I got out of the plane, and I certainly regretted doing that. With the amount of wind there was, I had no chance of landing where I was supposed to, and as I looked around, it seemed many others were noticing the same thing. I was immediately snapped back to reality after the paratrooper directly to my left was shot. His scream of terror was haunting, and it was something I knew I would never forget. As I looked down on to Omaha beach, I saw what seemed to be a massacre, bodies scattered everywhere over a beach tainted a terrifying red. I was supposed to land on Utah beach, but it was far too late for that.

CHAPTER THREE: Battle

Once I hit the beach, I jumped behind cover, cut off my parachute, and took out my rifle. No matter how bad it seemed we were being beat, I was trained to fight, not cower behind cover, so I immediately peeked out and began taking shots towards the Germans. Their set-up was certainly intimidating, as German troops and artillery were stationed on cliffs overlooking the beach, which was littered with large steel obstacles, barbed wire, and proximity mines. I ducked back behind cover to reload, and that’s when I saw all of the boats that were a part of our amphibious attack begin to hit shore. I had made good friends with some of the people in that division, and immediately recognized my buddy Hank Walters as he hopped out of his boat. He ran on to the beach and just happened to end up behind the same cover I was using.

“How the hell did you get here?!” He asked me over the sounds of battle.

“Missed my landing spot by a bit,” I responded as I popped out from our cover to take some more shots.

He did the same, peeking out to offer his shots toward the seemingly invincible Germans, but he was immediately met with a bullet to the head. I stared in shock for a second, the reality of battle hitting all too 48

hard as my friend bled out on the ground right next to me.

“MEDIC!!!” I yelled, “WE NEED A MEDIC NOW!!!”

But it was no use, he was already dead. It would be another hour before I even tried to take another shot. I sat on the ground in shock and fear, with the knowledge that if I had taken shots any later than I did, that would have been me on the ground. By the time I talked myself into “manning-up” and taking more shots, we still hadn’t made a dent in the enemy forces. Out of guilt and shame for cowering behind cover for so long, I decided that I would fight fearlessly and put my body on the line for my country until the battle was won or I was shot dead. I quickly advanced towards the Germans, hopping behind cover for a few seconds at a time on the way. Before I knew it, I was right in the heat of battle again. The next few hours were a blur. For what felt like days, I got into a rhythm of taking shots, ducking behind cover to reload, and then repeating. Right when it seemed like the battle was finally starting to go our way, I realized that I had run out of ammunition. A feeling of panic set in as I knew I would no longer be able to effectively defend myself, or help my brothers close out this battle. I knew what I had to do. No matter how dangerous or gruesome, I had to go find a dead body and strip it of all its ammunition. I found one nearby and dragged it behind cover, and when I turned him around, I saw Cooper’s face staring back at me.

“Harrison, is that you? It looks like one of us ain’t gonna make it home after all,” Cooper whispered through staggered breaths.

“No, no, don’t talk like that, you’re gonna be just fine, just fine I promise. A medic is gonna come over here and fix you up real good, you’ll never even know you got shot. I promise, I promise,” I responded through sobs.

That’s when I saw his wounds, he had been shot what looked like three times in his torso area, and was struggling to even breathe.

He shook his head at me and smiled with tears in his eyes, “You go win this battle, and when you get home, find my family and give the letter in my left pocket to ‘em, I wrote it ahead of time just in case. Tell ‘em how much I love them, and how while I may not be here with them anymore, I’ll be rootin’ ‘em on from heaven.”

“I will buddy, I promise, I promise I will. I’m so sorry this happened to you, if anyone it should have been me. I love you Coop, I’ll never forget you,” I responded.

He smiled and looked me right in the eyes, “I love you too Harry.”

He then looked up to the sky and seemed to offer up a prayer. 49

Shortly after, he closed his eyes, and with a painful smile on his face, breathed his last breath. I fought back more tears as I took the letter from his pocket, and stripped his body of ammunition. I then ran back into battle, full of anger and thirst for revenge for my best friend Cooper. After another few hours of battle, I began to hear shots fired behind the German forces stationed on the cliffs, followed by an eerie silence. A minute later, a single pistol shot rang out, followed by screams of celebration from the soldiers that flanked the Germans from behind. Everyone around me began to jump around and hug each other, but I just collapsed onto the ground due to a mixture of sadness and exhaustion. A little while later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. When I turned around, I saw my leader, Sergeant Stiles.

“Hell of a fight, boy. I’m proud of you,” he said, “listen, I heard about your buddy Cooper. I’m sorry soldier, I could always tell you guys were close. These things are always hard, but as soldiers we need to do our best to shake it off and move on to the next battle. I’ll be praying for you and your buddy. Try to get some sleep, alright?”

“Yes sir, thank you sir,” I responded weakly.

The rest of the night was a blur, I simply went through the motions of the rest of the day, only wanting to get into bed somewhere, I had no energy or motivation left in me. When I finally got to bed, I laid down, and stared at the ceiling, just like the night before. But now, everything was different. Not only had two of my best friends died in my arms that very day, but I had to find the motivation to continue pushing on and fighting. I had to, for Cooper. I had to get back home and give his letter to his family. Even if I did get home to do that, things would never be the same. I would never forget the looks on Hank and Cooper’s faces as they took their last breaths on Earth. I would never forget the screams of anguish after Hank was shot. I would never forget what Cooper said to me before he died. All of these things would stick with and haunt me forever, no matter what I did. As I drifted off to sleep, I prayed, prayed like never before. I prayed for my best friends Hank and Cooper. I prayed for all of the soldiers shot dead today. I prayed for the success throughout the rest of the war and the safety of all my friends still alive, wherever they were. Most importantly, I prayed that I would make it out of this living hell, get home, and deliver Cooper’s final letter to his family.