(Editor’s note: The following excerpts are from a book written by Newsleaders reporter MaryAnne Block based on interviews with her father, who took part in the harrowing D-Day invasion 80 years ago this week (June 6, 1944). That Allied invasion and subsequent combat fighting led to the defeat of Nazi Germany’s long, brutal control of Europe. The title of the book, published in 2005, is “A Ranger Remembers World War II.” Anyone who would like a copy of the book should contact Block at mab3990@hotmail.com.)
by MaryAnne Block
“The cooks had breakfast ready at 3:30 a.m. We ate in a hurry. June 6, 1944. This day could be the turning point of the entire war. We prayed it would be so. We knew the challenges and that the stakes would be high. We wanted to prove ourselves and to defend so many.
“The mission for the 2nd Rangers was to enter France by climbing the cliffs of Point du Hoc, Normandy to shut down big coastal guns atop those strategic cliffs. General Eisenhower had said this was a job for only one group of men: the Army Rangers. We did not want to let him down. We were also told to expect 100 percent mortality.”
That is how D-Day started for my dad, Eugene E. Elder on D-Day, 80 years ago. My brothers and I did not really appreciate that while growing up. Only years later did I come to understand and be in awe of what the Rangers did in the European campaign in World War II. His oral history became a book for future generations.
The following are more excerpts from the book.
“We crossed the English Channel (to Normandy, France) in the dark, then transferred to a smaller landing-craft vessel that would take us closer to our target. We climbed down the handmade course hemp-rope ladders. The sea was rough, and a man could really get hurt if he got pinned between the ship and the landing craft. Each Ranger company was assigned to three landing crafts, holding 22 men each. We were quiet, each man intent on his own thoughts and mission.
“Companies A, B and C were assigned to the western area side of the massive cliff that jutted into the Channel. Companies D, E and F were just to the east of the Pointe, which had a huge overhang. Our company F was to scale the easternmost area. Once we were atop the cliff we were to defend against any attack by the Germans from the east.
“The smell of the sea was strong, the waters choppy. Visibility was poor. We knew lives would be lost in this endeavor. As we traveled parallel to the cliff to reach our position, shots rang out. No one was hit. We continued, thankful for the poor pre-dawn light.
“Some of our men were hit while approaching the narrow low-tide seven-foot strip of beach. The camera case with the news man was also hit. He made it to shore; the camera did not.
“We fired two test rockets that would propel the strong hand-spliced ropes and multi-pronged hooks to the top of the cliff. They fell short! These cliffs were higher than expected, at least 120 feet at low tide! Powder adjustments were made.
“The nearly one-inch ropes hung like threads against the massive cliff, each rope about five or six feet apart. No rope ladders, just plain straight rough hemp rope.
“Germans high atop the cliffs began cutting the ropes. The gleam of a knife blade in the early morning sun could be seen from the ground. No body, just the glint of hard, cold metal, sawing back and forth. Some Germans held pistols over the cliff edge while others chose to drop live grenades.
“Off to the side, several German machine-gun bursts split the air, cutting down Rangers during their climb.
“Our men were falling like flies from the ropes. Good visibility was not needed by the Germans in this situation! As our buddies fell, we grew more determined to complete the task before us.
“It was now my turn to begin the arduous climb. My heart beat strong and steady, yet adrenaline was pumping even faster. At least 80 pounds of ammunition was slung around my shoulders and waist, while grenades and several pounds of dynamite adorned my suspenders. My trusty .45 caliber Colt automatic was in the holster and the Thompson sub-machine gun hung from my shoulder.
“The climb was grueling. Hand over hand, my hands continued to grasp and release the rope only by sheer determination. My hands no longer had feeling and they were ivory-white. The blood had drained from my hands as gravity pulled my blood downward. The last 20 feet of the climb was completed by sheer will-power, adrenaline and my focus on the mission. My hands did not bleed as they scraped between the sandstone cliff face and the rope. There was no blood. No pain. That would come later.
“As soon as I reached the top of the cliff my boys gathered around me. We had come to think and operate as one. There were no officers in our area, so I was in command. We all respected each other for our talents and guts.
“I looked to the right. My second in command hollered, ‘Sarge! They are coming in from the left!’ A number of Germans were crouched, then running right at us.
“We had not had time even to set up our mortar equipment. ‘Grab three mortar shells and take off all the sheet powder!’ I yelled. With lightning speed my men removed the sheet powder as I grabbed the mortar tube and slung it between my legs. No time for the tripod it was supposed to sit on. I estimated the elevation and angle (azimuth) for a target so close to our position.
“As my men dropped the three shells into the mortar tube, I was able to slightly adjust my aim with my hands as each shell belched from the tube. Mortar shells could be fired for distances up to 3,200 yards (nearly two miles). We had been successfully dropping mortar shells only about 35 yards from our position. Such close range was unheard of and usually not too healthy for the ones firing.
“We patrolled, fought and maintained our position on that huge cliff for three days.
“We had lost 77 percent of our men. We looked at that as a huge victory, because at least 23 percent of us were alive to continue the fight. There was a war to win, and we were determined to do just that.”
