Peering from his fortifications on the night of June 5^th, 1944 a German soldier of the 716^th Infantry Division lights a cigarette, shielding it from the wind with his overcoat. The blackness of the Atlantic Ocean yielded only rough seas crashing up on shore. In the distance he can hear the familiar drone of Allied bombers. He asks himself, “who are they after this time?”

        Meanwhile, onboard one of many Allied troops ships making steam for the French Coast, a soldier of the 3rd Canadian Infantry Division leans over the railing of the bobbing ship. Wheezing and praying for the lord’s mercy, he vomits. The mystery meat that was supposed to be supper was propelled overboard with great force. Out of nowhere an ominous dark figure appears ...
“Lance Corporal ! What the HELL are you doing up on Deck?”
The surprised and sickly soldier quickly composed himself and came to attention. He confidently rebutted, “….uhhhh….looking for Lieutenant Bloggins Sergeant Major….” The sarcastic Sergeant Major retorted, “Riiiigggghhht……and you thought you might find him over the side with the little fishies eh?……Get your ass below deck!”
“Sergeant Major….” The soldier sheepishly replied. The soldier quickly marched off while casually trying to cover his regimental shoulder flash as if scratching an itch. He had hopped in vain that the Sergeant Major hadn’t already seen it.
The Sergeant Major piped up, “....and Lance Corporal,” he paused…….. “good luck tomorrow eh?”
The soldier stopped and again faced the Sergeant Major, “..and to you Sergeant Major.” he said, and then proceeded below deck. Turning away the Sergeant Major muttered to himself, “I don’t need luck. I need a coffee”.

        The following morning was full of action. The German Soldier watched as an endless stream of Landing Craft Assault boats (L.C.A.) drew closer towards him. Muzzle flashes rapidly fluttered in quick succession, soon followed by the crack thump of incoming naval gunfire. Apparently this was the Royal Navy’s way of saying good morning. Adrenaline was pumping though his body. His MG 42 machine gun was already loaded, but with his hands shaking he began to re-load it and set the sights a second time. There was a constant chatter amongst his comrades who were making last minute preparations in between explosions. The invasion had come!

        Simultaneously, inside one of the L.C.A.s, the Canadian lance corporal tries desperately to keep his breakfast down while rehearsing orders and objectives with the rest of his section. The noise was overwhelming. Incoming and outgoing shells were all around him, almost drowned out by the rumbling of the L.C.A.’s engines and the sound of rushing water. Looking down at his Bren-Gun, the Canadian soldier thought to himself
“I hope those Limey bastards don’t drop us in 10 feet of water again.”

        At the same time the German was manning his sandbagged machine gun position. He was trembling and bleeding from his ears and nose. The concussion of a few nearby 5 inch shells had taken their toll on him. Then the word was passed down the line, the order “Fire!” had been given. A wall of lead flew towards the invaders. The German took careful aim at one of the large canvass boats moving inland. Depressing the trigger, he let his first burst go. The canvass jolted, and settled with a multitude of shredded tears. A direct hit close to the water line, yet the large canvass target still moved forward despite its damage. The lumbering heap of canvass was now only about 20 feet from shore. He let loose another burst. This time the large canvass began to drop, but it was still moving towards the beach. The German was preparing to pepper it again when his mouth dropped open. To his amazement, the turret of a tank began to appear from behind the lowering canvass. It was slowly turning towards him. “Panzer!” he screamed out to his comrades.

        On the Canadian L.C.A., the door swung open and the Canadian soldier jumped out into 4 feet of water. Both feet hit bottom. The soldier quickly wondered, “WOW! Maybe all those practices had done the Royal Navy’s L.C.A. skippers some good!”. Almost as soon as his feet hit the sand, he began the deadliest run of his life. The buzzing and snapping sound of incoming machine gun fire was all around him broken up by the occasional ricochet. He dropped for cover, but there was none. There was nowhere to go but into the enemy’s teeth. Staring ahead, the Canadian noticed that most of the German defences had been untouched by both the bombing and the offshore gunfire. He suddenly realized that he and his comrades were going to have to storm the enemy’s positions cold. “Just our bloody luck!”, he said aloud in a resigned tone. To his right was a D.D. tank firing point blank at a nest of German machine gunners. The scene around him was chaos. Incoming and outgoing munitions from both sides zipped all about. The beach was already littered with scores of dead soldiers and their equipment. Puffs of sand were kicked up everywhere from stray bullets. Behind him, banging against some of the underwater obstacles was a destroyed L.C.A. It was on fire and half submerged, dumping dead soldiers into the sea turning the surf red with blood. “The safest place on this beach is definitely not here!” he said to himself. He picked himself up, redoubled his pace and headed off towards the enemy.

        The German soldier opened his eyes. He was lying all crumpled up in the bottom of his trench, his limbs feeling numb and his ears incessantly ringing. A pair of Canadians were poking and prodding him with their rifles to see if he was alive. Having seen his eyes open they then motioned to him at gunpoint to stand up and put his hands behind his head. Straining to hear anything past the ringing in his ears, he heard one of them say in the most broken German he’d ever tried to understand “Your war is over”.

        The Canadian soldier was leaning up against a tree. The sounds of the battle were distant now. Exhausted, he reached for his water bottle and uncapped it. He tilted it back for a big refreshing gulp. “Damn! Its empty !?” he uttered. Giving it a once over he noticed a bullet hole. “Chrrrist!” he exclaimed. His hands then went into his breast pocket and grabbed a cigarette. “At least my smokes aren’t wet” he said to himself. He drew a match and lit his cigarette. He put the cigarette to his mouth, closed his eyes and inhaled. Leaning his head back against the tree , he slowly exhaled. After a few seconds he opened his eyes and looked back to his water bottle shaking his head. “Those bastards got my whiskey!” he bellowed indignantly.

        The Canadians had landed. They had taken a high degree of casualties. Amazingly though, they had taken just under half of the 1,900 that had been expected on the beach assault alone. They landed right in front of the Germans, whose defences were largely intact. They rushed the enemy’s positions, despite withering fire and took the beach by force. Moreover, the Canadians would be the first to reach their D-Day objectives out of all of the Allies. This was despite the fact that they were confronted with fierce and heavy resistance, easily comparable to any of the other Allied beaches with the exception of the Yanks at Omaha. The Canadian tenacity so courageously displayed at Vimy Ridge in the First World War had once again shone through.

        The Canadians ordeal in Normandy had just begun. Soon, the cream of the German Army would arrive with the intent of throwing the Canadians back into the sea. However, the Canadians had fought too hard and paid too high a price for the land they had just taken. There was no way in hell anybody was going to shove them back into the sea. The Canadians would suffer grievous losses in the days to come. The green troops of the 3rd Canadian Infantry Division would prove to be as stubborn in defence as the Germans were ferocious in attack. By the end of the day on June 6^th 1944, the men of the 2nd Canadian Division who had been lost at Dieppe were avenged.

        Loosely Based off of the accounts and information as discussed in Volume III “The Victory Campaign: The Operations in Northwest Europe 1944-1945” from the “Official History of the Canadian Army” Series. Written by Colonel C.P. Stacey Published for and by the Canadian Department of National Defence (1967)