D-Day. June 6, 1944, as recalled by Bernard Sterno,
Infantryman, 101st Airborne Division, United States Army. Originally from Georgia, he had moved to New
York in search of work. New York was
not what he thought it would be, so when the war started, he volunteered. His objective was to get into the
paratroopers. He was 19 years old. This is his story, in his words.
They
postponed D-Day one day because the weather was too rough. Then the next day, it was it. They had a meeting before dark and General
Eisenhower came out and walked right among us.
It was very informal. Usually, when a general comes up they have you at
attention. But as soon as Eisenhower walked up, the company commander was
briefed. He said, "At
rest." That meant you could stand
around. Eisenhower
came browsing through us, talking to us, joking with us, asking questions,
where we were from, what did we do in civilian life, and things like that.
After
he left, they took us, and all our heavy equipment, down to the C-47s, and we
loaded up.
We
took off before dark on the fifth of June.
I don't know how long it took us to get into formation.
I was sitting next to one guy and we got
tired and fell asleep.
It was dark
then, we were still flying.
When
I woke up and looked down, I could see a light flashing up at us.
We were over the English Channel.
It must have been a submarine or something
like that that was flashing.
The
next thing I knew, I could hear what sounded like a bunch of gravel on the
plane. I could see streaks of tracer
bullets coming up from the ground. I
said, "Look there. It looks like
tracer bullet fire or something."
The
guy next to me said, "It's just fire from the exhaust of the
engines."
I
said, "No it's not."
Then
we started rocking.
They
told us to stand up and hook up and we parachuted into Normandy at night.
We
were scattered all over and mixed in with the 82nd Airborne
.
It was just all mixed up that first
night.
Every time another plane would
come over the Germans would start shooting.
We got as close to them as we could and threw some hand grenades at
them.
That quieted some of them
down.
When it got daylight and we
started seeing some of our own people.
We
stayed together and when we ran into groups of Germans, we'd get rid of
them. Some of them would run and roll. It was nip and tuck.
When
we came to a village, we hit it along with other companies. We were all mixed up with the 82nd
Airborne. We were just
disorganized. After a couple of days we
all got together as people wandered in.
Some
of the men landed further away from our objective than we did. One plane load landed in the channel and
were never seen again. They were from
Company A, First Battalion, 502 Parachute Regiment. Their company commander was on the plane that went down.
I
don't know how many days we were there.
After the 10th, we were supposed to go and take Carentan
.
The whole company slept in a barn that
night.
The next morning we started out
toward the open causeway.
We had to
rush in bunches and hit the ground and roll because the Germans were shooting
at us and it was all in the open.
We'd
go across one of those bridges, hit the shoulder of the road, and lay down low. Some
of the bridges were blown out.
We
strung ropes across them and pulled ourselves across the water on the ropes.
We were all day long there.
When
it got night, a dog-gone German dive bomber came over and was firing
bullets. He was hitting the paved road
and everybody there. He knocked several
people of G Company out. He just got
them. A British night fighter came in
behind him and knocked him down. The
dive bomber looked like a torch in the air.
I could see it going over and hit the ground over on the other side of
Carentan. You could see it burning all
night long.
When
it got daylight, we were out on the end of the bridge. They sent Company H up
ahead because the other companies had already taken a beating. There
was a big steel gate there and they pulled the gate open. They needed somebody to go so they said
Company H, that was our company.
Our
commander says, "Come on Company H, let's do it."
The
battalion commander, who was Colonel Cole, Robert Cole, from Texas, was
standing there in the bald open with a .45 pistol on him. Our company commander was talking in a
little whisper, and Colonel Cole said, "Damn it, Simmons, those Heinies
know you're here. There's no sense
whispering."
Our
company commander, Cecil L. Simmons, was from Grand Rapids, Michigan. He was a captain. After the war, he became the head of the Michigan National Guard
and made brigadier general. I've seen
him twice since then. I saw him at the
Orlando reunion about 15 or 20 years ago and again when we were in Holland in
1989, at the celebration they had in memory of the liberation of
Eindhoven. That's the place where we
jumped in Holland.
I
knew the Germans were sitting there waiting, because all day long we had been
trying to get to them. When we started
to cross over a hedge, all hell broke loose.
I mean, they just opened up.
We
sent one patrol out across an open field to a farm house. No sooner had they
gone out, I was just getting ready to go over the hedge, and, man, the bullets
and crap started flying. We laid down
in a ditch. The rest of the battalion
was up and down the ditch too, just pinned down.
It
was just starting to get daylight when I noticed artillery shells started going
into them, our artillery. I said,
"The next artillery man I meet I want to shake his hand." Those
heavy aerial bursts would burst over the foxholes and trenches the Germans were
in. They would explode and hit them
even though there were in slit trenches.
They kept pouring that on them.
Finally
the Colonel said, "When the smoke gets here," we would fire smoke
shells which would hinder the Germans' visibility, "I want you to fix
bayonets and charge."
I
couldn't believe it. But, sure enough,
why, I looked over and saw Colonel Cole leading the dog-gone battalion. He was the one that gave the order. And then the rest of us, we jumped up and
started going. I went about a hundred
or a hundred and fifty feet and I was looking for an German to shoot at. One
had his head right up there in the slit trench, I could see his helmet. I aimed at it and got him. He had a P-38 pistol and I wanted that
son-of-a-gun. I was laying on my
stomach so I wouldn't get hit. I
reached up and got my trench knife out of my boot to cut the pistol loose. I went to cut it, and my hand just jolted
like that, and blood started to come out both sides of my finger. A
bullet had gone through my finger just as neat as anything. I cut the pistol loose and crawled over to a
more secure spot.
A
medic happened to come by, Land, was his name, a guy from Tampa, Florida. Zephyr Hills, I think. He saw my hand bleeding and he said,
"Let me bandage that."
I
said, "Aw, it's not bothering me at all.
It's just throbs a little."
He
said, "Yeah, I want to bandage it." He
bandaged it up okay. He had my whole
hand just wrapped with the darn thing.
Then
we moved on forward to where the Germans were.
Colonel Cole looked over at me.
He remembered me, and he said, "Sterno, get back there and get some
more medical attention. You can't sit
up here with that."
I
said, "It don't bother me."
He
said, "Get back," and I said, "Yes, sir."
I
went back and found a friend of mine, who was a sergeant. We used to go into
London together. He was on his back
holding his stomach. I crawled over to
him, and I don't know whether it was a shell, or a bullet, or what hit him, but
some of his intestines were showing.
I
heard somebody grunting and groaning and looked over and it was our medic. He got one in his back. He died right there. I got his first aid kit
and started putting sulfathilamide powder and sulfa on the sergeant's wound with
big, heavy pieces of gauze. I gave him
some morphine shots, from the little tubes of morphine they issued us. I squirted that into him and he felt better.
Vehicles
started coming up because they patched up the bridge. One weapons carrier came driving in with more ammunition for us
and they used that to pick up wounded.
There were a couple of medics on it.
They came over to where we were and got the wounded.
"I
told them, there's one over here,” and they got the sergeant on a stretcher and
got him out of there.
Another
guy there was on his back. His name was
Reiley, and he was shot. A bullet went
completely through his chest.
He
said, "I can't breath, I can't breathe."
He
was begging me to shoot him. I thought
he must be in pretty bad shape.
I
said, "No, I can't do that."
A
couple of medics came up and set him against a tree. They saw there was not much they could do with him. Later on, after a little more excitement, we
found him on his back, dead.
A
lieutenant who was there said, "Get back.
You're wounded. We've got enough people here."
My
hand didn't bother me. It was just
because the darned hand was bandaged all the way, but I went back. I really wasn't hurt bad.
I
got back to the trench we started from, and there were three or four wounded
people in there. One guy, I'll never
forget, had a handlebar mustache. When
Eisenhower was walking among us before we jumped that night, he said,
"What did you do in civilian life?" He
said he was a waiter or something. Eisenhower
said, "I think he was a pirate, the way he looks." He
was joking humorously. But he was
there. He apparently had been wounded,
he had his arm in a sling leaning back smoking a cigarette.
I
kept hearing these mortar shells. I
thought they were 88s at first. I
figured they were mortar shells, because you could hear pumph, pumph, and a
short while thereafter, you'd hear the things whiz over. They started hitting close to us. I
crawled into a little trench that was there.
It sounded like one hit real close to us and it felt like a board
hitting my butt, tore my groin up a little bit. My
ears were ringing and when everything cleared, I could hear this one guy
saying, "My eye, my eye." His
right eye was completely torn out. I
said, "Just be thankful you have the other one." I
put a piece of gauze and bandage on it for him. Another guy, he had a submachine gun, was sitting there, his head
lolling back and forth, blood coming our of both his nose and ears. I don't know how he turned out. But
the guy who had the handlebar mustache, I wouldn't have recognized him if it
hadn't been for that. All that was left
of his face was from the nose down. The
rest of it, it had shaved his head completely off, in two.
I
was hurt then, really hurt. I could
hardly stand. I could get up and
limp. I didn't know how bad I was hurt. I had blood all over me, and my hip was
aching. I had shrapnel in my groin, my
butt. So I crawled on back to the iron
gate. I got back across the bridge and
saw this little foxhole and got down in it.
There
were other people back there who were wounded, and some who hadn't got up to the
front yet. The lieutenant from our
company was there in a little foxhole about 10 feet from me. All of a sudden, boom, it was a small
caliber shell, I think a 55-mm mortar that the Germans had, that hit right
between us. It grazed my neck enough to
make it bleed. That didn't hurt bad,
but it also go me in the chest. There's
still a little piece shrapnel in there now. The
lieutenant caught most of it in his arm.
I heard him over there moaning.
Finally,
they had a truce. They told all walking
wounded, “If you can walk, get up and get to the rear." We couldn't have any weapons or
anything. Our
supply sergeant was there and he said, "I'll take care of that P-38 for
you." I
said, "Okay."
I
asked him later on back in England what happened to it. "Well, I went across a river and lost
it," he said. I
don't know what he did with it.
So they sent me back to England.
Due mainly to inexperience on the part of the
troop carrier pilots, the paratroopers of the 101st were scattered over a large
area. At dawn of June 6, only 1,100 men
were under a unified command out of the 6,600 who jumped. Working as separate units, groups of up to
50 paratroopers attempted to carry out assignments planned for battalion size
units.
Carentan was taken on June 11, 1944.