Somewhere in France
July 6, 1944
My darling Sminx,
I have just finished knocking the caked mud off my shoes with a stick. It reminded me very forcibly of the days at Fayetteville when I would come home back from RSOP 4 with my shoes covered with mud and you were so good about taking it off for me.
* * *
Yesterday four of us took our laundry over to the French woman who promised to do it for us. She agreed to do it and we were all very pleased because we are not too expert at doing it ourselves. When I finish washing my clothes they still have a tattle-tale grey. While I was there, I noticed a few strawberries on the kitchen table so I tried to buy some but was completely unsuccessful. She said she might have some when we come back for the laundry. On the way back we stopped at the Mayor's house - he gave us each another egg and would not accept any payment for them. So we gave him a few cigarettes and a cake of soap both of which are unobtainable over here. Incidentally we had to give the laundry woman soap to wash our clothes.
* * *
This afternoon we took another walk and paid another visit to our friend, the Mayor. He not only gave us two eggs apiece but also gave us a taste of his vin ordinaire which was very good and also a taste of the local hard cider which is very potent and not too good. The latter tastes like a strong liqueur. Since I speak French better than any of the others I do practically all of the talking and most of the conversation is directed at me. He took me upstairs and showed me where he had hidden some English parachutes for more than two years. This was quite courageous in view of the fact that German soldiers have been quartered in his house all the time. They were hidden under on of the steps of the stairway which was used by the Germans every day. The Mayor found the parachutes on the ground and smuggled them into his house. He told me also that he used to wait until the Germans left the house to go on an exercise and then he would listen on the radio to the broadcasts from London.
The people hereabouts are not starving because they are farmers and got their food from out of the ground. However I am told that those in the cities are in a bad way. The Mayor's brother lives in Lyons and he apparently is on the verge of starvation. The Mayor shipped a box of food to him on the train recently but it was stolen right from the train.
Some of the people I have talked with seem dispirited and unhappy because their families have been broken up, the young men being prisoners of war in Germany or having been deported there to work for the Germans. Even those who remained have been put to work by the Germans building fortifications and so forth. Four years of occupation by the Germans have definitely left its mark.
Dearest, there is still no mail. Oh what I wouldn't give for a letter from you so that I could hear how you are and what you are doing....
* * *
Your loving and devoted husband,
Bill
________________________________________________________________________________
July 9, 1944
Somewhere in France
My dearest Sminx,
Today I had a rare treat, some fresh strawberries. The woman who did our laundry promised us strawberries when we returned for the laundry and sure enough we went back today and she produced a large plate full of them. They were large and very sweet, even better than the ones at home. Unfortunately they were the last ones she had so I don't imagine I will get any more. She would not set any price on the washing so I gave her fifty francs which amounts to one dollar at the current rate of exchange. We also gave her 15 francs for the strawberries. She did an excellent job and I noticed she kept her kitchen immaculate. She did not seem too pleased with the money and I think she expected more.
* * *
I am still waiting and hoping for mail so far in vain. I am so anxious to hear from you. It makes it hard to be so completely cut off from news of you. I adore you, my darling, and miss you very very much. Please take good care of yourself.
With all my love to you and Billy.
Your devoted husband,
Bill
Dad's July 6 letter quoted in part above is a long, 7 page letter chock full of information. First, we see that Dad is the one who speaks for the invading (liberating) troops with the leader of the French inhabitants in this particular village, and he has become trusted enough so that the Mayor will give him wine but will also tell him a secret he has kept for two years, a secret that could have had him executed. Dad has apparently earned his trust. Second, we learn of the French washerwoman and her efforts to not only do their laundry but also to supply them with strawberries, a particular favorite of Dad's. She lacked soap to even do the laundry showing us the effects of the occupation. And when we see in the second letter her disappointment with what she was paid, we can understand because of the severe inflation of the franc during the occupation. For example, a pound of butter (it may have been some other unit of measurement of butter) cost 22 francs in 1940 and 56 francs in 1944. So what she was paid would get her a pound of butter but not much more. No wonder she "did not seem too pleased...." Third, I don't hear talk of French "peasants" any more. Instead I hear of a "quite courageous" French Mayor who risked his life hiding the parachutes in his house, and who also listened to broadcasts in London, and a generous French Mayor who could not even get a bar of soap but would save up food to send to his starving brother in Lyons. Fourth, we see the effects of the German occupation upon the populace caused by the quartering of soldiers in their homes (one of the complaints against George III in the Declaration of Independence), the splitting up of families, the conscription of the able-bodied French to contribute to the German war efforts, and their resulting depression and resignation. At the Utah Beach museum, there was an exhibit about daily life under the occupation, and the following quotation from one of the French citizens about the 4-year long occupation: "On avait une vie de misery, une vie de plus en plus dure, de plus en plus malheureuse." Loosely translated, "We had a life of misery, of more and more hardship, of more and more unhappiness." Perhaps, Janet, our French teacher, can provide me with the correct translation. Please?
His July 8 letter shows that he is at least sensitive to the feelings of the French woman, but perhaps hasn't gotten to the point of knowing what to do about it. Don't we all have these moments and wish later we had handled something in a different manner? The American soldiers probably had little idea how difficult the occupation had been on the French.
On the other hand, our occupation has been a delight. After a late start this morning, we set off for Pointe du Hoc, the site of an impregnable position held by the Germans at the top of very high, steep cliffs, and which held batteries of artillery guns threatening the ships who passed by and any attemted invasion on the beaches. 225 Rangers volunteered to assault these cliffs, and their landing craft ended up being set southward of their planned position thereby avoiding the angles covered by the German guns. As they approached the cliffs in their landing crafts, they shot off rockets with grappling hooks attached that caught on the land at the top of the cliffs, with rope ladders unfurling down the cliffside. The men hit the beach and ascended the cliff face, hand over hand, step by step, and some climbing without the aid of the rope ladders, often under heavy machine gun fire and hand grenades from the Germans on the top. Some made it to the top in minutes - we say an interview of one Ranger and he said his radioman made it to within 2-3 feet and said he couldn't make it any further, he was too damned exhausted. The interviewee also felt the same, called out to Rube, one of his fellow Rangers, to see if he could help. Rube came over, dropped his weapon as he went down on one knee. At the same time the interviewee found the energy to make it up and pointed his gun to give Rube cover. Rube, a large strong man, leaned over, grabbed the radioman by the scruff of his coat and dragged him up the last few feet. I'm going to try to attach a card we bought with a painting of this scene.
The attack was successful despite the strong fight the Germans put up. When the Rangers finally arrived on top and approached the bunkers, all they found were telephone poles, not gun barrels. The guns had been moved inland to avoid the heavy bombing but they still constituted a threat as their forward ops center directing their fire still existed on the edge of the cliffs. Colonel Rudder established his headquarters there once the bunker had been secured. With the Rangers spreading out to find and destroy the German guns, while at the same time, taking control of intersections to prevent German reinforcements, they were down to 80 fit men by June 8 when they were finally replaced by reinforcements. Even in this place of death and destruction of the land, the entire Pointe cratered by massive numbers of bombs, we came across a goat that had just given birth to two kids, still wet, with their mother alternating between eating grass and cleaning them up.
Our next stop was Utah Beach, about 10 miles to the north. It was still foggy but the museum there is the best of the museums at the beaches. I learned about the Goliath, an radio controlled track vehicle that looked like a small unarmed tank but which was filled with 225 lbs of explosives. The vehicle would be directed toward a tank, approach it and when it got near enough, would explode, destroying the tank as well as itself. Luckily, all the bombing before D-Day had interfered with the radio direction system in the Goliaths and they failed to function in the German defense of the invasion.
We then continued northwest to Ste. Mere L'Eglise, site of much of the action in The Longest Day and also one early episode of the Band of Brothers. We stopped to see the church where 82nd Airborne soldier named Steele landed the night before the invasion by having his parachute wrap around the steeple where he hung for 2 hours. He was rescued and survived the war. The church now has a parachute wrapped around the steeple with a replica of parachutist Steele hanging from the parachute. The church also has beautiful stain glass windows given in honor of the 25th anniversary of the 505th of the 82nd Airborne, and another in honor of "those who by their courage and by their sacrifice liberated Ste. Mere L'Eglise and France."
I had planned to add a picture of the stained glass windows but it takes 20 minutes or so per photo, and it's almost midnight, so I'll say "Good night" now. Tomorrow we head to Bretagne and St. Malo.
Love, Nat
PS You'll be glad to know that Sugar is off her 24 escargots in 24 hours diet. She switched to mussels.
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