D-day veterans find their bonds remain strong after 70 years

Bill Millin playing the pipes for his fellow troops in 1944.

(by Steven Morris, The Guardian) – Some were old friends reunited once more to remember the horror they endured and the comradeship that kept them strong 70 years ago. Others were meeting for the first time and finding that, despite the passage of time, their shared experiences of D-day meant they had an instant bond.

British and American veterans of one of the greatest and most terrible of military operations gathered on Monday at Portsmouth Historic Dockyard. Almost 100-strong, they were invited aboard the last three D-day craft that are still operational and took part in a ceremony to honor the memory of Bill Millin, who played the bagpipes on Sword Beach to lift the spirits of allied troops as they waded ashore. They were treated to beef stew and mashed potato, washed down with American beer and British navy-issue rum.

Probably as important as the ceremonials was the chance to talk over the events of seven decades past. There were smiles, there was joking, but there were also tears.

British veteran Jim Baker was one of those determined to keep the mood upbeat. “At the age of 92, I’m too old for any [nonsense],” he said. Gesturing at a group of American veterans during a pause in the days’ proceedings, he added: “I used to curse at these guys; I used to call them all the names under the sun. But the truth is there aren’t any buggers better than this lot.”

Baker, a Royal Marine commando from Blackpool, was the coxswain on an LCA, the landing craft used to transfer troops from transport ships on to the beaches. He made the perilous journey on to Juno Beach 22 times on D-day.

He ferried in Americans who had had precious little contact with the sea. “They were prairie boys, they were scared of the water,” he said. “But when it came to it, they were braver than anyone. They may look a little past it now but they did the job back then. I’m proud to be associated with them.”

Baker’s point about age is a pertinent one. Almost all of those that were gathered in Portsmouth were in their 90s. Many used canes; some used wheelchairs; a few walked arm in arm to support each other.

Bob Powell, a 90-year-old from the city of Yakima in Washington state, was enjoying Baker’s memories. “I’ve never met him before but I may have been on that boat of his,” he said. How did he feel as he approached the beaches? “I was too dumb to know any better. I was 19. I had just got out of high school. I jumped off as soon as I could. There were ships everywhere, landing craft everywhere, machine gun fire, bodies floating past.”

D-day landing

Patrick Churchill, also 90 and another British commando, was taking the chance to thank the Americans he served with on D-day and the days and weeks that followed. “I do feel very thankful they were there,” he said. “They took some of the worst of it at places like Omaha and Utah [beaches]. They had a tough job and we should never forget that. But that’s not to say that everyone wasn’t important.

“Everyone was like a little cog in a giant machine. Without each and every cog, the machine just wouldn’t work.”

The vessels the veterans were able to inspect included Motor Gunboat 81, one of the lead boats for British and Canadian troops heading into Sword Beach. Also anchored at Portsmouth was Motor Torpedo Boat 102, which Churchill and Eisenhower used to review the fleet assembled for the D-Day invasion.

Following the day’s activities, most of the veterans were heading for France (by much more comfortable ferry) for this week’s anniversary ceremonies in Normandy. Steve Conyngham, 92, from Liverpool, has not been back since 1944 when he landed at Arromanches. “I never got the chance for one reason or another,” he said. “But I want to go before it’s too late.”

His memories are fragmented. “It was so confused. That’s what I remember most, the chaos. The memories have been coming back as I’ve got ready for this. I think it’s going to be emotional.”

Vern Ollar, 93, from Kerrville in Texas, was enjoying himself teasing the Scottish contingent for wearing kilts. “I like your skirt,” he told one. “I always thought you were the bravest, not only fighting but wearing those outfits.”

The sole woman veteran at this event, Vera Hay, 92, said humor was hugely important to all those who served during the second world war. “The good thing about these get-togethers is that you meet people who had the same sense of humor, the same sort of memories, the same experiences.”

Hay served with the Queen Alexandra Royal Army Nursing Corps and was landed in Normandy by Royal Marines where she helped treat injured troops. “It’s hard to explain to anyone who wasn’t there what it was like. When you’re together like this you can remember and you don’t have to explain.”

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