Diary of a Street Pastor 5 – Remembrance Firstly, I make no apologies for this being nothing to do with our work on the streets. This is something that I feel compelled to share and I am grateful for the opportunity. Ephesians 6: 2-3 “Honour your father and mother” which is the first commandment with a promise “so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.” On 11th November every year we commemorate those that have died whilst serving this county. This year, as usual, I bought and wore my poppy as many of you also did. But for me it hasn’t always been that way. My father married late and is much older than my mother; most of the people of my generation would not have a parent that had served in the world wars. My father is a WWII veteran. I grew up hearing stories of his antics and like many kids I’d heard the stories that often I didn’t really listen. I just let them go over my head, you know the old saying “familiarity breeds contempt”. Nevertheless, my father, who had a wonderful war, continued to tell his tales. During my early twenties I even questioned the validity of wearing a poppy. I believed that the government had responsibility to look after old soldiers which left the poppy somewhat redundant and to me, a symbol of the glorification of war.
My father always expressed a desire to revisit some of his old haunts in Normandy and 10 years ago we decided to make the trip. The trip coincided with the 60th anniversary of the “D” day landings although this was more down to luck than good planning. So on 6th June 2004 we made our way to the Normandy beaches. Upon arrival my parents joined the ceremonies on the promenade and I went onto the beach with my youngest son Zac. As I said earlier, I’d heard the stories so often that I’d stopped listening. We were joined on the beach by a platoon of American Marines; Zac’s face was a picture as he looked up from his sand sculpture (my children built dinosaurs not sandcastles) and found himself surrounded by soldiers. The young lieutenant began to recount the events of 6th June 1944. The Normandy landings were the beginning of Operation Overlord - or the invasion of German-occupied Europe. Originally planned to take place on 1 May 1944, the operation was postponed a month to allow time to gather more troops and equipment. The timing was important to allow for the right weather, a full moon, and tidal conditions. To keep the destination of the landings secret, a deception plan Operation Fortitude was mounted which led the Germans to believe the main target was the Pas de Calais, much farther east. When the landings finally began there were only 14 of the 58 German divisions in France facing the Allies. While there was stiff resistance at other beaches, Omaha was the only one where the success of the Allied mission was in serious doubt. The invasion of Normandy was the largest amphibious assault ever launched. It involved five army divisions in the initial assault and over 7,000 ships. In addition there were 11,000 aircraft. In total 75,215 British and Canadian troops and 57,500 US troops were landed by sea on D-Day. Another 23,400 were landed by air. By 11 June the Allies had secured the Cotentin Peninsula beyond Cherbourg but progress continued slowly as the Germans put up fierce resistance. The end of the Normandy campaign came with the destruction of the German 7th Army in the Falaise pocket in August. Although the Allies had reached the German frontier by September they decided to re-group during the winter, because of the failure of Market-Garden and the setback in the battle of the Bulge, and the invasion of Germany only began in January 1945. © BBC On This Day. The Allied casualties figures for D-Day have generally been estimated at 10,000, including 2500 dead. Broken down by nationality, the usual D-Day casualty figures are approximately 2700 British, 946 Canadians, and 6603 Americans. However recent painstaking research by the US National D-Day Memorial Foundation has achieved a more accurate - and much higher - figure for the Allied personnel who were killed on D-Day. They have recorded the names of individual Allied personnel killed on 6 June 1944 in Operation Overlord, and so far they have verified 2499 American D-Day fatalities and 1915 from the other Allied nations, a total of 4414 dead (much higher than the traditional figure of 2500 dead). © Portsmouth Museums and Records. My father, who was aged just 21, did not land on 6th June as his ship was stuck in the English Channel due to stormy weather, but the “D” day landings continued for days afterwards. I don’t know if the degree of danger lessened as the days passed but I’m sure that the soldiers stuck on the ships could hear the gunfire and the rumours of the losses. I’m sure that they were filled with fear and trepidation as they waited to disembark. The success of the battle was down to all the men and not just those who landed first but I take nothing away from those who landed at the start of the battle. His adventures started in Normandy. He had a parachute bicycle (unofficially) and he spent his off duty hours cycling around the French countryside sometimes avoiding German army checkpoints by the skin of his teeth. He requested his old French text books from home; although he’d struggled at school he became fluent in the language whilst never quite losing his Mossley accent. My father was not on the front line he was in stores and for this reason he claimed that he was not a real soldier or hero. On 6th June 2004, the enormity of what had happened 60 years previously hit me and I stood on the beach with tears streaming down my face. These were young men fighting to protect their nation from an evil dictator. They were fighting for the present but the ramifications for the future were massive. Great Britain would be a very different place had the Allied forces not defeated Adolf Hitler and his Nazi Germany. We take our freedom for granted but we only have that freedom because of the grace of God and the young men who gave up their youth, and for some, their lives. Since returning from that trip my father, albeit 60 years late, claimed his medals from the Ministry of Defence. My father is now a hale and hearty 91 years old, and just for the record he is my hero and I now, and will always, wear my poppy with pride.