Well the 2003 A trip in Easys footsteps begins tonight in Atlanta. Tomorrow they will be in Taccoa for the first leg of the trip. It will be interesting to see what differences there are from last Septs Tour and this one, the first of two this year. I 'm sure that Brian will fill us in on his view of it and probably get a few others to join up and post.

This is the part of the trip where I met Appell 8. I entered the lobby of the hotel in Atlanta and there sitting on a couch was Doug ( Appell 8), and another fellow tour member named Doug also. They were flanked by Wild Bill and Babe. The two of them were peppering the vets with questions until I barged in and broke up the party. Wild Bill was filled with nothing but sweet greetings. " Look Babe, he didn't get lost " which Babe replyed with "What the hell took you so long we have been here since this morning?"

And so it started. Well Doug, any fond rememberences ?

Yowser !
Jiggersfromsphilly

Tony, yep. I remember fondly the hour or so I had to pepper Bill and Babe with questions before the riffraff .... um, strike that .... the main body of the august members of the BoB 2002 tour showed up.

I would never again have the chance to ask the questions I did in that hour. And both Mr. Heffron and Mr. Guarnere were open, friendly, informative, feisty, opinionated, themselves. Priceless. Never to be repeated, given the numbers who ringed Bill and Babe about from that point forward. I felt, and feel, most privileged to have had that window.

I posted an account of that session some time ago, which may have been swept away with the Cyberstorm. I'll see if a copy exists for reposting.

My best to Brian and to the members of BoB Tour 2003A. They will have much to tell us about.

Thanks, Tony. y.o.s., Doug

Doug - please do post, as I would like to read your account. Thanks

I am a little jealous! From all accounts the last tour was awesome and this one I am sure will be great!

Anybody know which vets are in attendance on this tour? Regards, Vanessa

Tony would know, but I think they are Paul Rogers and One-Lung McClung.

Shame that Shifty Powers isn't along to complete the set.

Today the tour would leave Atlanta and head north by bus for Taccoa and Mt Currahee. As we neared Taccoa we could see from some distance Mt Currahee. as it really stands out. They will visit the Stephens County Historical Society which is located in a restored cottage in Taccoa. From there they will bus pass the Casket factory to Mt. Currahee. The site at which Camp Taccoa was located is now occupied by a large plant. On the grounds next to the plant is a white cinder block building that is the only remaining building from the 40s. There used to be a row of them and the were used for mess halls and other regimental affairs. At the entrance is a black granite memorial and flag pole dedicated to the men who trained there. Next to the road that leads up Currahee is a monument to Col. Robert Sink. and appropriately the trail up the mountain is named for him.

We switched from Motor coach to a school bus at this point to make the 3 mile trip to the top. At the top we had to walk the last few yards up to the top. Wild Bill gave a lecture on small weapons at the top as the renactors had authentic or real weapons with them. Our own Appell 8 was interviewed by a local radio reporter at the Stephens County Historical Society and as a result of his enthusiastic response he was taken on as a field reporter by the radio station for the rest of the trip.

The day was overcast and the view was limited from the top of Currahee. It still was incredible and the trip up and down it was breathtaking as well. We enjoyed a box lunch before heading back to Atlanta and our overnight flight to Gatwick airport outside of London. More later.

Yowser !
Jiggersfromsphilly

Tony, good on you. Excellent reports. y.o.s., Doug

Well today is the day when the tour hits Aldebourne. By now the group should be happily ensconced in their hotel in Newberry. We drove from Gatwick pass Windsor Castle and in to picturesque countryside. Through Chilton Foliat and Hungerford where 101 men were billeted and on to Aldebourne.
We visited the headquarters of Colonel Sink at Lilletcote Manor. Which hasn't changed a bit in 60 years.
The bus pulled up in front of the Crown Pub and we headed up the street to the green where a group of re-enactors waited with their vehicles. The group included WBG's own Stavelot and his freshly painted jeep, appropriately named Wild Bill and Babe. The re-enactors did a close order drill and were inspected by Wild Bill. Wild Bill revoked all their passes ala Capt. Sobel and then fell in for a retreat to the Blue Boar for Liquid resupply. We visited the Stables that Major Winters lived in and then we were allowed to visit his quarters over a store where he shared rooms with Harry Welsh. We were escorted around town by the local historian and his family. His wife was interned by the Japanese in the fall of Hong Kong. But thats another story for another time. We enjoyed lunch and the Vets were mobbed by respectful fans who stood quietly in line for their autographs and photos with them. We then traveled to Membury where they unit took off for D- Day. Some of the original hangers are still standing but have been recently re-sided. The field is now an industrial park. We were escorted by Neville and his fellow re-enactors jeeps to the field.
The evening was spent in the hotel where comand post was set up and the days events were hashed out by Wild Bill and Babe and assorted rabble with just afew beverages to help. The friendship and hospitality shown us by our English friends was tremendous and something I will never forget.

Tommorow Aldershot and Portsmouth:
Appell how about some color commentary or additional insight ?
Thats all for now folks !

Yowser !
Jiggersfromsphilly

Tony, per your suggestion.

Here is the report I posted last Fall on the first 24 hours of the Tour. "Lane" is an old friend from the HBO boards (and occasionally here) who, with his wife Sandy, drove 100 miles to surprise me at Toccoa. And it was a delightful surprise. As Tony reports, the local radio station asked me to call in from Europe with reports on the tour, which I was happy to do. I later heard that they had indeed been broadcast -- but that I had better stick to my day job.
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This is an excerpt from my report to Major Winters on the first day of the BoB historical tour. I had the good fortune to run into Sgts. Guarnere and Heffron (hereinafter “Bill” and “Babe”) in a seating cluster in the lobby of the Atlanta Hilton, initially by themselves. So I had a chance to chat with them personally before everyone else came up. They were awfully nice to me.

Right off the bat, I raised some Easy Co. questions. What did they think of Webster? Big reaction from Babe. Very negative. At least some of Babe’s reaction seemed based on the Harvard college boy thing, but part of it seemed to be that Webster was a goldbrick. Meanwhile, Bill said nothing but just shook his head slightly. I quietly asked if he disagreed and he says, quietly, “Aw, Webster was OK.” “In combat?” I asked. “Yeah, he did his job.”

I asked Bill about the mutiny against Sobel, and he confirmed it. But said he never signed anything. “Nah, I was too smart to write anything down. We just tore off our stripes in front of ‘im.” Wow.

I talked with Bill and Babe about my father’s war. Bill seemed impressed by Dad’s Huertgen Forest experience and by his combat longevity. Bill says, “They tried to give me a battlefield commission, but I wouldn’t take it. Those guys didn’t last long.”

I asked the vets if they’d ever seen “Battleground,” and Bill said he was at the Philadelphia premiere in 1949. I asked them about the actors had who had played them in the series and they both approved. Though Bill said: “Jeez, that Frank—he’d call me from England t’ree times a day, asking about this, asking about that. Finally, I told him “Frank, it don’t matter what you do – we still won the war.”

As we were congregating to leave the hotel the next morning, a major in cammos came up to chat with the vets. I missed the conversation, but was told that he was in the 17th Airborne, and that his name was “Winters.” Imagine that. On parting, Bill called out to him, twice, “Look out for your men.”

[I reported on the Historical Society, the radio interview, and meeting Lane and Sandy, which I’ve already covered here. Lane, Major Winters now has a new snapshot of the two of you. And I reported on the convoy up Currahee]

At the top of Currahee, Wild Bill reminisced freely about running the mountain with Sobel’s high-pitched screaming in his ears. And how he'd connive to protect his men from Sobel. (“But he didn’t get on me. Old Gonorrhea had ‘im conned. Sonnuva bitch. But he was a good man.”) With visual aids provided by one of the reactors who had run us up the mountain, Bill conducted an extensive seminar on WWII weapons. Apparently, there wasn’t one he didn’t like and know how to use effectively, from .45 automatic to grenades to carbine to M1 to .30 cal. to mortars.

Littlecote House. Satisfies every expectation of an English mansion and confirms that we are no longer in the US. We traipse around the manicured grounds, inescapably conspicuous as jet-lagged tourists. We are agreeably tolerated by the youngish wedding party there for the weekend, who were engaged in some sort of archery competition. I overhear an unidentified local explaining the history of the house authoritatively to Chris -- something about fortified houses, castellations, and the English Civil War. As I stare at the House, I conjure up the scenes from Ep. 1 that I envision taking place there, including Sobel’s replacement and the salute from the mutineering sergeants to Major Winters.

The roads around Aldbourne cry out to be traveled by Triumph or MG rather than a bus. Passed through Chilton Foliat (intrigued by the name, but have yet to find its source.) Because the backdrop doesn’t seem to have changed in any distracting way since 1943-44, it’s not difficult to fill the mind’s eye with war-era troopers, soldiers and GI gear.

Aldbourne. Initially, Aldbourne did not figure high on my personal priorities for the trip. That started to change a few weeks before, when I read on one of the BOB websites an essay by Neil Stevens, a young local historian of the area’s WWII experiences with troopers and GI’s. He described a recent historical convocation in Aldbourne that he had been instrumental in organizing. And from his description of the intense interest in that gathering, it became apparent that the residents of Aldbourne and environs retain today an enormous affection and pride from their associations with Easy, the 506th, and the 101st. My sense of anticipation was further whetted by Major Winters on-the-bus video commentary about his Aldbourne experience– how he had gone to the local church to get away -- another one of those Winters clear-the-head withdrawals – and the steps by which he bonded with the Barneses, a family who had lost an RAF son in the Battle of Britain, and who ended up hosting Major Winters and Harry Welsh. The commentary also provided us with a list of sites to see that seemed impossibly long for a place as small as Aldbourne.

The reality far exceeded that anticipation. We were met at the village by Clive Stevens, Neil’s brother. In full trooper kit, complete with cammo scarf. Clive regretfully explained that his brother was absent in the States, and was most chagrined that he had missed a visit from Bill and Babe.
Clive ushered us off a block to the village green.

Hollywood could not improve on Aldbourne as the classic English village. Village green, surrounded by quaint stone structures, brooded over by the Church, and punctuated by the Blue Boar. The angles are not quite 90 degrees, suggesting a pre-Industrial Age tolerance for irregularity. It could have been a set for “Dr. Doolittle.”

Or for “Mrs. Miniver,” since there is an assemblage of 40’s Army vehicles on the green, attended by young Brits in GI uniform and gear. Most in paratrooper kit, but one was sporting leggings and a Big Red One patch. A jeep proudly bears the title “Wild Bill ‘n Babe.”
Someone tells Bill about the jeep and he comes to see it, but the first thing he sees is a truck with the name “Bitch.” “Ah jeez! …. I dated that broad.” The Blue Boar’s outside tables are occupied by a fair number of civvies, out to see the show.

I see a single trooper standing at the corner of the green nearest the steps to the church. Suddenly, he snaps to attention and a squad of troopers passes in review, in close order, led by an officer. After a few strides, they break into the “hidey-tidey” chant from Ep. 1, substituting “parachute infantry” for “airborne.” And they do it in unison, in American accents! Another few strides, and they do the Jodie drill from “Battleground:” “Jodie was there when you left. YOU’RE RIGHT. Ya hadda good home and you left. YOU’RE RIGHT.” I have chills running down my spine. A couple of laps of the Green, and they present themselves for inspection by Wild Bill. “Jeezus H. LOOK at dis rifle. Sobel wouldda had your HEAD for dis.” And so on, for a few guys. “Passes REVOKED!” Then he says, “Guys, I wanna thank you for coming out to meet us. Dis is great.” The chills haven’t stopped. [there are some great photos of the occasion on the Dtircuit boards]

After they fall out, I talk to members of the squad, who were eager for assurance that it had all gone off well. “Didn’t you hear the applause?” I ask. “No, sir. I was too busy tryin’ to make sure I got everything right.” I compliment them on the American accent for the chants, now disappeared. “We memorize it, sir. Can’t do it in conversation to save me life.” They were awestruck by Bill and Babe, and were eager to acquit themselves well in honoring them. They did.

We all mingle for lunch, while Bill settles down for a long slog of book-signing and hero worship. It is a brilliant, bonny day, and just right for a pint, a sandwich and conversation. Snagging a sandwich at the Blue Boar, I chat with a man and a woman who are police officers from Oxford and army reservists. Jake introduces me to a buddy, a local collector, who has presented Jake with a recent find: a Chuck Grant dog tag. The collector very kindly gives me an assortment of bullets of various calibers that he had recently dug up.

The Blue Boar sports a poster (a 1984 re-creation of the original) displaying the membership of the “Kegler’s Club,” activated January 9, 1944. Chairman, Capt. Hester. Sgt-at-Arms, Lt. Lewis (“the Mick”) Nixon. Members include “Slim” Meehan, “Light Horse Harry” Welsh, and, um, Lt. “Frosty” Winters -- who Tony tells me is a different Winters.

Chris and Jake eventually round the group up around the marker that is the centerpiece of the Green for an overview of the village tour, and introduce two local gentlemen who make a few remarks. One is Mr. Sowerby, who minds us through the ensuing tour. Church. Organ that Mrs. Barnes played. Plaque marking the lost, including Cpl. Barnes, RAF. There are cushions over the backs of the pews that seem homemade, some bearing the insignia of military units (e.g., “Spearhead”). Churchyard, including headstones, and a bench on the site where Major Winters met the Barneses. There is a solemnity about the group during this stretch that reflects the church setting and the loss of young Barnes. But it also reflects our understanding of the importance and affection that the Aldbourne residents attach to their association with Easy so many years later.

The tour continues with the stable barracks (not long for this world, we are informed), with their graffiti. And the Barnes’s house, with the Winters-Welsh room. It is at this point that I become aware of Mrs. Sowerby, who has been tagging along. There is something about her presence that is winning and engaging. After her son tells us of her wartime imprisonment by the Japanese, we press her with questions, which she agreeably answers. Macao. Hong Kong. Wow. She mentions having discussed the experience with Major Winters, and shows us a most gracious letter that Major and Mrs. Winters sent her later. The sole surviving Quonset hut in the neighborhood is now her workshop.

A convoy of WWII jeeps and trucks accompanies the bus and ferries some of us on a jaunt over to the site of the airfield at Membury. With a local reenactor, Neville, I stroll the tarmac trying to visualize where the runways ran and the sights of the C-47’s taking off. During the walk, I discover that my escort is a participant on the Wild Bill Guarnere web bulletin board and knows me from my posts there! Small world.

All-in-all, I was most taken with Aldbourne and with the spirit of affection and pride that permeates their memories of the 506th. As with other such instances later in the trip, I felt simultaneously privileged and unworthy to be in proximity to those expressions of gratitude. I handled those feelings by resolving to sponge up as much of the experience as I could, to pass on to the just recipients of that gratitude – to Major Winters, to the Easy vets whom I met at the Phoenix Reunion and the Washington Symposium, and to my father. I have tried my best to do so.

Doug,

Months tardy, but brilliant.

Where are the photos?

For those of you who have not yet seen them, some photos of the Toccoa and Aldbourne legs of last September's Ambrose BoB tour can be found here.

http://www.tircuit.com/bandofbrothers/mess...html?1046757628

WBG Forum members fanobob and stavelot provided the photos along with Jane in southern England who may or may not have dropped in here early on.

I recieved an E-Mail from Stavelot today with a report on the Aldebourne portion. The had about 25 re-enactors on hand and several vehicles. The weather was poor at first then it improved. The re-enactors had a chance to meet Earl"one lung Mc clung and Paul Rogers. Stavelot said they didn't stay as long as we did as they seemed to be on a schedule.

One comment on Littlecote, there was an archery competition taking place on the front lawn when we were there. Just like in the olde days. " Little John, Tuck, supressing fire to the right"

We started out on Sunday to visit Aldershot where the British Airborne Museum is located. The drive was splendid. The countryside is magnificent and I kept expecting Velvet and the Pie to come jumping out at us. The museum has a RAF Dakota outside of it and inside is filled with displays of all British Airborne Drops. They even have some off the orginal sand tables from Overlord and Market Garden there. From Aldershot we proceeded to Portsmouth where we were supposed to tour Ike's Headquarters but didn't. We went to the D-Day Museum there and viewed the tapestry that takes up a good amount of the place. Inside in the Bookstore I was supprised to find a book on sale by none other than one of our tour leaders, Chris Anderson. The group bought out the supply and Chris was gracious enough to personally autograph each and everyone. The town of Portsmouth is home to the Royal Navy and the masts of Admiral Nelson's Victory can be seen for miles also there is the Mary Rose displayed in a indoor facility to preserve it. There also is the first Ironsided Warship in the RN. but its name escapes me. The D-Day museum is quite complete and well worth a look if you ever make it there.

From Portsmouth we proceeded to Bournemouth where we were divided in to two sticks for separste flights across the English Channel. I was on the First Stick along with Babe Heffron. We had a grand flight and landed in Cherbourg where we were met by the bus that would take us across the continent.
From Cherbourg we moved on to Bayeux wher we spent the night. In Bayeux there was a ceremony that night for veterans and it was the start of a run with a torch that would wind up a week later in Eindhoven for their Remember September Celebration. The second stick of the tour was flown into Caen. One of the Tour members had a fall deplaning and really got quite a cut and bruise on his face. and earned the first purple heart of the tour. Good thing Doc Moe was on hand to lend her able assistance and patch him up. We had a dinner and then I went on a walk with Appell 8 to see some of Bayeux. The Cathederal is a beautiful example of Gothic architecture and contains the Bayeux Tapestry. (Where Else would it be.....DUH). We spent the rest of the evening in the CP enjoying some hearty Beers. Tomorrow St Mer Egliese and Utah beach, with a stop in some place called Brecort.
Doc Moe, Doug, how about some imput ?

Yowser !
Jiggersfromsphily

Thanks Doug and Tony for sharing your trip with us. It's the next best thing to being there.


Sue

Thanks for sharing! I'm definitely jealous!

My understanding is that John (Jack) Agnew is also along on the tour. Apparently it was his doing to get the pig intestines to train in, which not everyone knew. I'm sure that was quite the conversation to hear!

michelle

Southern England. After a too-short attempt to sleep off the jet lag (and surprisingly good fare at the Newbury Hilton), we bussed to see the British Airborne Museum at Aldershot. The name “Aldershot” has strong resonance for me, since it appears in the first line of a poem I had to memorize as a boy. [“You may talk o’ gin an’ beer, when you’re quartered safe out ‘ere, and yer sent to penny fights and Aldershot it. But when it comes to slaughter, you will do yer work on water, and you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ‘im ‘at’s got it.” Kipling, “Gunga Din.”] [Speaking of which, Jake told us here that the scene with Major Winters taking a swig of calvados in Ep. 2 was apocryphal.]

The Aldershot Army base on which the museum sits is locked down, so no photos permitted, unfortunately. The museum itself has terrific exhibits, though it clearly lacks the resources that US museums have to maintain, polish, and showcase their collections. It was here that I answered a question that had bedeviled me: I had assumed that “Pegasus” was a divisional symbol comparable to US divisional patches. So how come the 6th Paras gave rise to “Pegasus Bridge” in Normandy, and the rescue of the 1st Paras was “Operation Pegasus?” Which was the true Pegasus? Answer: both. And then some—it seems that all British Airborne used Pegasus as an emblem, for at least some time following the war. (Not all my colleagues are historically savvy. One wondered at the coincidence that the 1st Paras had been assigned to assault a bridge named “Pegasus.” Imagine that. (!)) Terrific original sand table exhibits and mock-ups. Also, displays relating to Brit paras in the far corners of the Empire and in the post-Colonial wars that followed WWII.

My favorite memory of Aldershot is of Wild Bill, in full regalia, mixing with some 14 and 15 year old local lads, who were there on Sunday morning as part of a recruiting program. I don’t know whether Bill made them more or less likely to join up, but he certainly had their wide-eyed attention.

Thence, to Portsmouth to the Overlord Museum. Overall, I was more intrigued by the setting than the museum, which is fine, but small. As an introduction to the subject, the museum would have been good, but it is eclipsed by my visits to the D-Day Museum in New Orleans. Portsmouth, on the other hand, has all sorts of Horatio Hornblower Napoleonic era associations, as well as its connection with Overlord. Having heard all my life of the Solent and the Isle of Wight, it was gratifying to stand on the battlements of a coastal fortification and get a sense of the harbor dimensions. And to populate the harbor in my minds eye, alternately, with LSTs and full-rigged ships of the line.

In Portsmouth, I had a chance to chat with Joe Hobbs, who had tagged along with the bus from Aldbourne. Joe was a costume designer on the series and become closely involved with Easy in ways that I still don’t fully understand. Very engaging fellow, who was also at the Phoenix Reunion, and, I learned, was involved in the ceremonies to establish the Sink Trail at Toccoa. [I also recently saw him in the credits for "Hart's War."]

Then to Bournemouth for the flight across the Channel. I had hoped to be on the first flight over because it landed in Cherbourg, a city that my father’s unit captured (though before he joined it.) Nope, I was designated for Stick 2 to Caen. Stick 2, well, turned out to be the hard luck element, which we tried to turn into a virtue. We spent a long, long time in the Bournemouth airport. Not the most stimulating part of the trip, but it did lend itself to getting to know each other better. While Stick 1 dined in Bayeux, we picked up some airport sandwiches. Grrrrr.


The neatest thing about the flight, when it finally got off the ground, was experiencing the twilight turn to night in-flight, as it did for Easy Company in June, 1944. The thrumming sound of the engines matched the sound we heard in the series. The weather was clear, so we could see the almost-empty surface of the channel – so different from the armada the troopers could see then – until night fell. Ultimately, we could make out the dark shape of the Cotentin to our right and saw discrete patches of light marking the towns, such as Bayeux.

The flight crew was very friendly and respectful of the tour’s mission. Upon landing in Caen, I was trying to intrigue a pretty stewardess with the fact that my mother had been a stewardess on DC-3’s in the late ‘40s -- and she was making polite responses -- when a commotion interrupted my schpiel. One of our number had taken a spill in dismounting the DC-3’s ladder – actually, pretty understandably – and had alarmingly gashed himself around the eye. It turned out not to be grave, but it was the last thing that Chris’s nerves needed at the end of a long day. [Later, Doc Jan did a great job of first aid, settling everyone down.]

The airport’s name, Carpiquet, had resonance with me from the tank battle fought there as Monty tried to break out of the Caen beachhead. Once over the alarm of the accident to our companion, I was able through my tiredness to soak up the atmosphere. An almost deserted airport on Sunday night. Prop plane. French. All it needed was fog, Major Strosser and Ingrid Bergman to be the closing scene in “Casablanca.”

Stick 2 needed a break, and we got it in the form of our Dutch bus driver, Steph, who had festooned the bus with “Band of Brothers Tour” and “Currahee” banners. As it turned out, Steph, from Eindhoven, has a long background with Bill, Babe, and E Company, reflected in the brochures he handed out. It was good to know that our driver had the knowledge and interest to put him in synch with the purpose of the trip. He played 40’s tunes on the bus PA system as we bussed to Bayeux.

Normandy.

Aldershot is a 20 minute drive from me, and to think you were all only just down the road from me. Ahhhh what could have been, my chance to meet Bill and Babe, and of course Doug and Tony.

Just one little bit of info on Aldershot, Major John Howard was buried in the military cem there a few years ago.

Ive never been to Bournemouth airport, but I can well imagine the smallness of it, and the great sandwiches lol.

I think the Iron clad Jiggers mentioned is probably the HMS Warrior 1860

Great info guys cheers.

Right you are Andy,

The HMS Warrior.


Yowser !
Jiggersfromsphilly

Michele,

Jack Agnew, who is from Philly by the way, Started out in in demolition squad, Headquarters, 506th. He then joined the pathfinders and was one of the 506 th group that jumped into Bastogne for the pre Christmas resupply drop, thus earning his 3rd combat jump star. George Koskimaki's book "The Battered Bastards of Bastogne" has a picture of Jack setting up a beacon on top of a brick pile at Bastogne. He is a big fan of Linda Darnell and a great addition to the tour.


Yowser !
Jiggersfromsphilly

Thank you Tony and Doug for sharing this with us. This trips must be a great experience. One you remember all your life.

Doug, you finished the post with Normandy. Can I expect the tour came in the Netherlands and then in Belgium and so we'll have posts about it ? I hope so.

BK, thanks for the link. Doug, it was cool to see you again. With Bill and Babe, terrific pictures.

All the best,

Morgy (drinking your words like water)

Darn! That was such a great bonding moment between Winters and Wild Bill. I was hoping it really happened.

Sue

We started out for St Mere Eglise after Breakfast and stopped along the way to purchase some flowers. We pulled in to the main square of the town and got off the bus.On one side of us was the Church and on the other side was the D-Day Museum. I was behind Bill as he made his way down the sidewalk from the bus. He walked almost to the first corner when Bill stopped and looked around and said to no one in particular " this is the place. Yep this is where I landed on D-Day." I got a chill that still comes back when I think of the moment. He had not been back in 58 years and even then he didn't hang around long to check things out yet he knew it immediately. There were some Shed or Garage doors behind us and he recognized them immediately. "Yeah those doors were there but there wasn't anysidewaalk or cobblestones, just gravel and dirt when I hit." Someone then asked him what he did and he replyed " I took off running like hell that way" and he pointed to the road the wse entered the town on and in a northwesterly direction. " Of course there wern't any stores then, I might have done some shopping If I had known then." He then described landing. "I could see the church and the building on fire (there was a farm house now the location of the D-Day Museum, that was on fire from the falling AA fire.) I ran like hell." I can't speak for the others but this is what made the trip priceless for me. We then joined Babe for some shopping and bought a few postcards while Bill and some others established a CP at a bar run by a fan of the 82nd. The Church has a Dummy hanging off of the spire that is representative of PFC John Steele 82nd who landed there on D-Day. You might better know him as the guy Red Buttons plays in the Longest Day. Apparently John Steele landed on the other side of the church but it is a better view where they have him now. From St Mere Eglise we drove thru the town and saw where several others from Easy landed , such as Jim Alley. We proceeded to the site where Lt Meehans plane crashed. Several years ago local D-Day experts dug up the site of the crash and siffted through the shards of wreckage that wasn't cleaned up originally. The came across one troopers cricket and they presented it to Jake Powers. You could still see the charring on it from the fire.
We debussed and Bill placed a bouqet of flowers at the monument to Plane #66. It is a striking piece of granite with the names of the crew and Troopers who died there. we then headed to the Tjunction where the ambush took place. Bill told us that they waited til the Germans had passed and then ambushed them. We drove a little bit further and then we got off of the bus for a hike up Collins Road to Brecort Manor.

Just a short brake and I will continue.
Jiggersfromsphilly

Morgy, "like water?" Not even vin d'table?

Just teasing. Thank you ma'am.

We hiked up up the road between very thick and high hedgerows to Le Grand Chemin. from there we turned on to the driveway of Brecort Manor. We toured the field and listened to the description of the action there from Jake Powers. We saw the remains of Carwood liptons tree. We then went back to the beautiful norman home of the DeLavalleier family. They were out in force to greet us, The were most hospitable and friendly. They showed me the floor of the office where the blood stains are still visible from the germans wounded in that mornings action The house is furnished with magnificent paintings and furnishments. From Brecort we went to St. Marie Dumont. Some of the buildings in the square still have chips in them from the gunfire. The Church is on where Von Heyde climbed to see the landings. We had a group shot taken in front of the statue to the French dead. The statue is on the cover of the paperback version of BoB. From there we traveled down Causeway #2 to the D-Day Museum at Utah Beach. The museum is located on the site of a gun emplacement. It contains a tremendous amount of artifacts from that Day of Days. It has a piece of one of the 105s destroyed at Brecort. from there we went to Culoville where Easy ended its day on a large farm. It is a working farm with a very picturesque stone home.

Please chime in Doug and Doc Moe.

Yowser !
Jiggersfromsphilly

Hey Jiggers,
Enjoyed the story about Bill. What were you doing when you were 19?? Well, Paul Lamoureux had just turned 19 right before he jumped D-Day. He just had a birthday. Most of the boys were just turning 18 or 19. WildBill was 20-21 when he took out all those Germans.
Kristina

Connection problems tonight have eaten up many posts. Tony, sorry I haven't been able to keep up. I'll see if this one goes through.

OK, I'm encouraged. Hope this will go through.

St. Mere Eglise. Familiar from “the Longest Day” and from my previous trip to Europe with my father in 1994. Easy’s relationship with St. Mere Eglise is new to me. I quickly tour the Airborne Museum, but emerge to follow Wild Bill around. I miss what he said to Tony, but Tony quickly fills me in about Bill having identified the corner nearest his landing spot. Bill receives a fax via the museum; one of his French fans (who turns out to be Nathalie) has a sick child and cannot make it that day. We make our way around the square. We are approached by a Frenchman who introduces himself as Renee, and says he has traveled from Versailles, sleeping in his car, to say thank you to Bill. He was a child in France (I think Orleans) when it was liberated, and wants to express his gratitude. He will stay near us the rest of the day, maintaining a respectful distance.

Bill sees a bar on the square open to the street and says, “Let’s have a drink.” As it’s 9:30 in the morning, I make an excuse. He says “It’s a drink or dis,” waving his fist. A drink it is. Inside the bar is a small shrine to Howard Manoian, 505th P.I.R., 82nd. As we wait for service, a little American girl who looks like Shirley Temple, runs up to Bill, smiling, and is embraced. “It’s the uniform,” her mother explains, as Bill hoists the little girl on his knee. Her father is an attaché at the US embassy in London and they are on holiday in Normandy. They seem dumbfounded and impressed to have happened upon Bill.

As we move out from St. Mere Eglise, Chris points out where Jim Alley landed. Then we pause where Major Winters landed. From here on out, we’re following the Guarnere-Winters-Lipton path on June 6th – all on the roads, rather than overland.

On the way from Bayeux, Chris had read Lt. Meehan’s letter to his wife. I had read the letter before, but hearing Chris read it, with emotion he couldn’t suppress, made it all the more powerful. Very much like the Sullivan Ballou letter in Ken Burns' "Civil War." Then Doc Jan read the brief note that Lt. Meehan had written to his wife from the plane, and given to a ground crewman to post. Oof. The effect was to produce a profound sadness and sense of loss as we approached the Stick 66 memorial and paid our respects. As they would throughout the trip, Chris and Jake arranged to have flowers that could be left in memoriam.

We reach the T junction where the Winters contingent ambushed the supply column. While very different from the setting in the production, it is not hard to visualize. Jake and Chris announce that we have the option of walking from the T intersection to Brecourt Manor, which they estimate as being “about a half mile” (which turns out to be an underestimate, so “half mile” becomes a running joke). I’m delighted for a chance to stretch my legs. Passing cars create a "tactical column" effect, with tourists strung out single file on both sides of the road. I'm loving it.

I try to put myself in the place of the troopers on D-Day, moving fast, not knowing what's in every shadow and around every bend. It's a stretch, but some mental pictures do form.

The sense of history is aided by the relative timelessness of the French architecture. And the roads are still backroads, even though significantly developed since 1944. There are markers noting the places where troopers died, and naming stretches of road after them. This means that those troopers ended their histories right here, almost sixty years ago, with these the last sights they saw. It seems to compress the time between then and now.

Houses, concentrations of houses, named localities. And then a big concentration of houses. Le Grand Chemin.

Brecourt Manor. As I've discussed in response to Tom Carter's questions, the assault on the guns seized my imagination when I first read about it in Dr. Ambrose’s book. And the depiction in the production did an excellent job of evoking the spirit of the attack, as I imagined it. Still, the physical dimensions and relationships of the fields, trenches, and hedgerows, and the way in which the attack moved through them, has continued to elude me.

So I was extremely attentive to everything I could glean from Chris and Jake and from walking the ground. Impressions:

• I was surprised that the jumping off point at Le Grand Chemin was so close to the assault field; now I understand how others came up (Hester, Hall, Speirs) so readily during the battle, and how W.O. Hill could have mistakenly waded into it;

• Chris and Jake told us about the direct assault on the guns by Dog Co. across the field that separated them from the main road (D-14); news to me.

•. I’m assuming that the trees around the guns were lower then than now, so that the defenders had clear fields of fire into the field across which Dog attacked. Not much cover in that field.

• Tony and I have already dissected the details of the field where the attack took place in our discussions with Tom Carter, Patrick, and Polish Eagle, so won't repeat. As I indicated, I continued to have questions about putting the pieces together, which I presented to Jake and Chris, and reported to Major Winters. I suspect that we will hear more from those sources to answer the questions.

• From the north end of the field, it is striking to look south and see the Manor in the foreground and the steeple of the church in St. Marie Du Mont looming in the background. That meant a lot of fighting in a fairly small patch of territory.

After traipsing over the ground, we visit the grounds of the Manor briefly. I am conscious that our entrée to the area is entirely due to our association with the tour. The house is beautiful, and the family members seem friendly, if bemused to have these tourists so intensely curious about their hayfield. There is a dignified older lady there who looked as if she might have been around during the war, and I wish that I could conquer the language barrier to find out. I wonder if any of the family members is the boy who was shot on D-Day. Tony found out far more about the DeLavalleirs than I did and there is much more to explore. They were the family featured in the front page Wall Street Journal article that featured Major Winters a couple of months ago.


Overall, I feel most privileged to have had the chance to walk that ground. I have walked many, many a Civil War battlefield since I was a child, and have yearned to do the same with WWII battlefields. In fact, I was able to do some of that – at least at the firefight level – with my father on our previous trip. But most WWII battles were too sprawling to lend themselves to the classic Civil War staff ride. Brecourt is special. One of our tour members remembers studying Brecourt as a cadet at West Point over 20 years ago. I would love to see those materials. Query whether there could be some set of circumstances under which the Manor and the fields could be acquired by the US government and preserved, just as Gettysburg and Antietam are. It would be most fitting.

The Utah Beach Musee. On the way down to Utah from Brecourt, I’m struck by the altitude of the road along part of the way. Where the foliage clears out, there are superb sight lines for great distances. So THAT’s why they call ‘em St. Marie du MONT and St. Compte du MONT. And that’s why it was so important that E Co. seize the high ground inland of the causeways.

[On the way, I remember the story Major Winters told me about hearing from Elliott Richardson that he had been under fire from the 105s and a beneficiary of the Winters assault at Brecourt. Major Winters said “Imagine that. Helping to save someone like Elliot Richardson . . .” My reaction when I heard that the story was “Elliott Richardson was a distinguished lawyer, a gentleman, and a worthy public servant, but . . . he was no Dick Winters.” Every lawyer to whom I’ve told that story has had the same reaction.]

We were ushered into the Musee by a gentleman whom I think to be the Maire of St. Marie du Mont and a De Lavalliere, the heir to Brecourt and the son of the boy wounded during the assault who grew up to found the Musee. Inside, there was an air of excitement from the museum personnel. In the museum auditorium, they presented Bill and Babe with gifts: a medallion, and a beautiful framed photo of the Easy vets taken during the Normandy premiere of the production, Easy vets in bright yellow windbreakers surrounded by a sea of kepi’s.

A diorama in the museum depicts a big slice of the area inland of Utah, and one of the very few unit movements depicted was the attack at Brecourt. I proudly note that a display of divisional unit symbols from the units that came ashore at Utah includes my father’s Ninth Division (D plus 4). [I had visited the Musee with my father on our trip in 1994]. I register the first marker of the series of kilometer markers that mark the Voie d’ Liberte, stretching to Bastogne and Verdun.

We bus up and head to St. Marie Du Mont.

St. Marie du Mont.

In St. Marie du Mont, a very pretty village, monsier l’Maire De Lavalliere hovers solicitously. It is a beautiful day, and the dome of the church stands out against a blue background. We pose for group photos in front of the WWI memorial that formed the backdrop for the Guth-Talbert line-up photo on D-Day.

The walls around the town square are festooned with plaques that seem to provide play-by-play accounts of individual firefights between troopers and Germans on D-Day. All in French, reasonably enough but unfortunately for those of us who don't read it. That does it. When I become Czar, I’m expanding the Brecourt Manor Bilingual National Battlefield Park to include St. Marie du Mont.

A bar on the square, L’Estaminet, offers a chance to sample Calvados. And for Bill and Babe to bask in the sun of the outdoor café and hold court. Their courtiers include a tourist whose father was in the 82nd AB.

And Renee, the grateful Frenchman from Versailles, stands respectfully across the street, unobtrusively.

My respects to M. Renee.

Culloville is not far off, down leafy lanes, a classic agricultural compound, with stone buildings surrounded by stone fences. Bill talks about the defensive lines stretching outside the compound, with holes occupied by the unlucky ones who drew the duty. And we see the lane that Major Winters walked down to, once again, get off by himself. Where he made the vow about finding a peaceful bit of land on which to live out his days.

Do we feel privileged? Yep.

Bayeux. Back in Bayeux, our restaurant dinner is interrupted by a commotion outside. We step out to watch a procession – too small to be a parade – primarily of young people, walking to the beat of drums, carrying US, UK, and Canadian flags and followed by other young people on bicycles. I’m pleased but mystified about what it represents. Brian Mo (part of the multifaceted family that is "Doc Mo"), the 11-year old at my table, informs me that this is the front end of a sequential celebration of liberation, and that a torch will be carried by bicycle from Bayeux, the first “city” liberated in France, to Eindhoven, the first city liberated in the Netherlands, to coincide with the Liberation Day festivities. Way cool.

After dinner, I walk around Bayeux, this time without Tony. It is a superb representative of French towns, picturesque and historic. I regret that it is too dark for good photos of the Cathedral or of the Lion D’Or, an inn with a WWII history where I had stayed with my father in 1994.

Back at the hotel, we listen to some unrepeatable and hilarious Babe stories and follow up by listening to Jake’s football stories.

Jake then engineers some improbable phone conversations with Easy veterans. As Tony will attest, incroyable.

Ah Mac Dougal,

Your color commentary makes it seem like only yesterday ! Thak you for the outstanding work and rememberances. You will get your own marker in the Brecort National Park !

Yowser !
Jiggersfromsphilly

Back atcha, Tony. Thanks for sparking these remembrances -- and for being such an excellent travelling companion. y.o.s., Doug

Thanks Doug.

If you haven't noticed, the posting for the day is where the current tour is at on this journey. Today we visited Omaha Beach. This was an ala carte choice made by members of our tour on the spot.


We visited Omaha Beach and the Cemetary there this morning(last Sept, see above). We stopped and purchased flowers for the graves of the men of Easy who are burried there. I feel that words defy the sight, in person, of this location. We visited the graves of the Niland Brothers, who were the inspiration for Saving Private Ryan. I have posted this story several times before so onward. We placed the flowers at the gravesites of the Easy Vets. (I forget their names, Help Doug) The view from the cliff is astouding. To visualize 5000 ships of all sizes "Comming right at me" as in the Longest Day and see the distances the men had to cover shocks you. The openness of the beachs and the heights of the foothills and cliff cannot be explained amply with out viewing them. It looks like the Germans could have defended it location forever. I walked back to the bus and in the parking lot next to us were 2 tourists from Italy. They had ridden their motorcycles from Italy and were visiting the battlefields. Wild Bill met up with them and had a field day speaking some Italian to them and telling them about his brother Henry who is buried in Italy. He made a couple of friends for the US that day. From Omaha we traveled to St Come Dumont. On the way we passed a well tended German cemetary on the main road. We didn't enter the town but drove down from Deadmans Corner aways to get a good view of they Church there and its prominence as a lookout position. We then headed to Carretan. We crossed the 4 bridges and moved into the outskirts of town. The four bridges we crossed were not long but with them destroyed, you could see why they would have trouble trying to swim them as they are very deep and extremely fast moving. We got off the bus and walked down the lane that Easy traveled into town on approaching the intersection where the Germans had machine guns positioned in a large house at the intersection. The scene in the miniseries does it justice. It is a long sloping road with the last half heading downhill. From here we proceeded into the center of town and saw several impressive tributes in parks and on walls, to the men of the 101st. We got out and everybody headed off in search of lunch. Jake and Chris took some to see the arch where Major Winters was wounded in front of. It was here that we met fellow board member Frenchy. She had driven up from Le Mans and was anxious to meet Bill and Babe. Well they took to her immediately and made her sit between them as their guest of honor. She was on cloud nine. With out her help several of us would not have had lunch. The owner of the bar we had chosen was very uncooperative and Frenchy straightened him out and even offered to go into the kitchen and cook if it was such a problem to serve a few people. She won the day for us. After too short a stay we had to move out and leave Frenchy and some others behind as it was time to head for Paris and our hotel and try not to get stuck in the rush hour traffic.
It was great to see the names of places I had heard about as a school boy on the drive. We pulled into Paris and got stuck immediately. We headed out to a restaurant and afterwards 4 of us made the quicky tour of the town. We took the metro to the Eifel Tower. We exited the station and walked across a magnificent square to the Place De la Concorde. We stood on the same spot where Hitler viewed the the City of Lights. It was truely a sight not to be forgotten. From there we took the subway again to Notre Dame. On the subway we met a girl comming from her job in a bakery and she had a large bag of baguettes which she promptly shared with us. She was very generous and not to tough on the eyes either. Then it was back to the hotel at the Glacier exit of the Metro and bed before our morning TGV to Brussels.

Frenchie ,Appell, Doc Moe, any comments ?

Yowser !
Jiggersfromsphilly

I maybe wrong. but im sure Notre dam is in the background when Winters gets of the Metro and walks up some stairs, in the Crossroads episode, when he visits Paris. I perhaps should check first, and its of little interest but as you mentioned Notre dam Tony thats what sprung to mind.

Andy

First time I could connect all day. Sorry for the delay.

Colleville. Another breathtakingly beautiful day. We start with a visit to the Colleville cemetery. My first time there, since my father had no taste for cemetery visits on our previous trip. The weather, the setting above the sea, the meaning of the graves, and the exquisitely manicured grounds overwhelm with a complex of feelings. Compounded by the view down upon Omaha Beach, which produced so many of these graves.

Chris and Jake preside over moments of remembrance, where we place flowers on the graves of 101st vets. The Talberts (Tab's brother and sister-in-law) place the flowers on the graves of the two Niland brothers. Chris and Jake bring to these moments a papable depth of feeling.

I break away from the group on a personal mission. My law school roommate, David Joy (grandson of Turner Joy, of Inchon fame), asked me to visit the grave of an uncle he never knew, George Eberle, a West Point lieutenant in the 502nd killed on D-Day. I find the spot, and take photos for later delivery to David’s family.

I then spot Bill sitting on a bench with only Steph, the bus driver, backs to the sea, and seize the chance to listen to Bill without the usual crowd. I listen, and prompt, and feel privileged. Bill tells about getting busted after he was wounded for being AWOL from the hospital. About getting married in May, 1945, after being wounded in January. About his anger at having to scare up $25 for the wedding fee. About the mean streets of South Philly before the war.

As Bill crutches away across the green, he says to me and Steph: “You may t’ink I’m crazy, but I can feel dese guys. I hear ‘em down there. I’m saying to ‘em: “Everything’s gonna be all right. Old Gonorrhea’s here. I’ll take care of you.’”

. . .

Carentan. We swing briefly through St. Compte du Mont and pause at Dead Man’s Corner. The name has special resonance after reading Don Burgett’s account of how he fought with the tank commander who became the namesake “Dead Man.” Chris and Jake explain the sequence of combat that led from D-Day to the approaches to Carentan.

Dead Man's Corner is a strategic spot for appreciating the lay of the land, the high ground on which St. Compte sits, the wide, low quasi-moat formed by the various branches of the Douve estuary, and Carentan, looking like Camelot on its high ground across the Douve. I now better understand some of the stories about various crossings of the Douve under fire. This not the Waal. There is enough complexity to the terrain to provide some cover for a crossing. But also to provide excellent ground for defense. Chris and Jake describe the tough fighting to take the four bridges. I sense the change of direction on the far side of the estuary as we circle the city toward the west. Unfortunately, the terrain does not permit room for the bus to get to the site of the Cabbage Patch – or to Bloody Gulch.

But we do get to walk down the road that marks the assault at the T intersection, another scene I had attempted to imagine.

Impressions:

• First thing that registers: well there IS a big fold in the road, as depicted in the production, but not mentioned in the book. But that fold is lot farther away from the houses than shown in the series. Not much cover other than the ditches beyond that fold.

• For at least part of the way, the road follows a natural funnel, with higher ground on both sides, discouraging the instinct to flank. Another question answered: I had wondered why Easy had to make a frontal assault.

• As is common in low-lying towns (in, e.g., Louisiana), this tentacle of Carentan is not deep -- once through the first line of houses, there's more marsh. This explains the scene where Smokey Gordon opens up on the German defenders splashing into the swamp.



After walking the road down to the T junction, seeing the site of the MG's and imagining house-to-house combat, we saddle up and head for the central square. In front of the arched colonnade, Chris describes the action that took place there, including Major Winters' exchange with Colonel Strayer ("safe to cross?") and the later medal ceremony in the square that was interrupted by artillery. The production does a great job with that colonnade.

We disperse for lunch. I snap photos of the Screaming Eagle flower arrangement outside of City Hall, and the street sign of the major avenue named for the 101st Airborne. As Tony mentions, getting service in the cafe's was not easy. After being pointedly ignored for a long time at a cafe, and the clock ticking, I bail out and discover a hole-in-the-wall gyro place that cheerfully delivers a quite tasty sandwich. As Tony reports, Bill and Babe lunch with our own Nathalie, who had driven from Le Mans for the rendezvous. She later tearfully greeted the rest of us at the bus, and thanked America generally for liberating her country. It was a sweet moment, gladly remembered.

After Carentan, we settle in for the long stretch to Paris, punctuated
by showings of BoB episodes.

In Paris just for an evening, and parked well out of the center of town, Tony, and I and others skim by Metro through a blitz tour of the Trocadero and Notre Dame. Yep, Andy, it was in Ep. 5. And Tony reminds me of the charm of our chance Metro companion -- but that's a story for another day.

I like your way of telling this trip. Good work both of you.

I recognize our Nath ! What a great woman. I would have liked to see the waiter's face.

Wanting more, definitively. Especially with the "Then it was back to the hotel at the Glacier exit of the Metro and bed before our morning TGV to Brussels. " that wrote Tony.

And I don't know why, M.René seems very sympatic to me.


Morgy

Morgy, thank you for the response. I'm glad that M. Rene' struck you that way; he deserves your regard.

And, again, my thanks to Nathalie, for the long drive to pay her respects to Bill and Babe, and for the poise to deliver her message to the rest of us.

It is stories such as theirs that I try to convey to the US veterans who were not there, and for whom we tourists were just a proxy.

Doug, Tony,
Great reading! Thanks for sharing.

Doug, let me know if I can send you a picture of the Lion d'Or. Daphne and I spend our honeymoon there. Great place with a lot of history.

Y.o.s.,

Mark

This has been a brillian read so far. Man, it's made me realize just how much some people on there really know, how much some people have seen and heard and what connections certain people have. I have to be honest and say that I am green with envy - I don't know what to do with myself!

But I guess there's no point in it, I'll never be so lucky I know that much. Hopefully, one day I'll get to Normandy and Holland and Belguim. But it'll probably be on my own...ah well...

Keep it up,

John

You missed Brecourt Manor. Anyway. When we were about a 'half mile' from the manor, we were told it was only a little ways up the road and that we could get out and walk the rest of the way if we wanted. Naturarlly, most of us got out and started walking. Well that 'half mile' turned into about two, but it didn't matter. We saw the places of where the four 105s were and also where Lipton's tree is. We then ate lunch and got back on the bus. I'll try commenting on other things, too (if I can get there before you guys do.) Tomorrow's Holland, right?

Brian, look again; Tony and I both addressed Brecourt. Pass revoked !!!

And, while we're at it, how about getting your mother to chime in with some memories?

Mark, thanks for the Lion D'or offer; actually, I have photos from my 1994 trip, and I think I may have copies of your photos.

John, I understand what you mean. Some of us are fortunate in our geographic proximity to events, and fortunate that we could swing travel such as the BoB tour. But, as to connections, we are all the beneficiaries of sites such as WBG and HBO, irrespective of where we live and where we can travel.

Doc Moe.
Glad you have joined us, please give us some of your feelings and rememberances.
We didn't miss the "half mile walk", we choose not to remember it in those terms, but more as a stroll to remember. Brecort has been hashd about pretty well in another thread so onward and in to Belgium and Holland.

Morgy, The sights in Paris were breath taking and exciting but it was far too fast to describe much else as we were moving the whole time on this trip like we were in the Army........Hurrry up and wait........hurry up and wait. Up at 06:00, Breakfast at 07:00, Be on the bus at 08:00 ride and see all day get to next location at 18:00, eat dinner, anywhere between 19:30 and 21:00. Try to relax and enjoy locale, 21:00 till collapse, start over next morning.

We woke up and after a quick breakfast we took the bus to the Gard North Station where we boarded the TGV for the ride to Brussels. I sat across from Wild Bill on the trip and listen to him tell stories about growing up in South Philly and some about Taccoa and the Co. most of these stories have escaped my memory now. but I did laugh most of the way. He has a great way of telling you that you are nuts.


We got into Brussels and loaded up for the trip to Best and the Wings of liberation Museum. We entered the museum grounds and there was a contingent of Bill and Babes friends waiting for the group. They had flowers and a few bottles of perishable potables. After much kissing and hugging Bill and babe sat down with their friends and we toured the museum. We went from there to the sight of the drop zone that Easy landed in on Sept 17th 1944. we traveled down a narrow lane and emerged from the woods to what seemed to be several miles of farm fields. Just off of the drop zone inside the woods, we came upon the sight of a Glider crash. we could still find pieces of the craft 58 years later. The remains had been burned on the spot many years ago durring the clean up, still pieces could be found in the holes that the glider dug up on crashing. we all came away with pieces of canvas that you could see the grey and OD paint on with seared edges. As we headed out we passed a house that was there in 44 and on the front of the house was a large 101st medallion over the front door. We then headed to Zon. we crossed over the bridge that had been blown up just before Easy was supposed to capture. It has been replaced by a modern convenience since, but you could see down the cannal one that was just like the destroyed one. We travelled in to Eindhoven and unloaded at the Hotel. We were amazed at the amount of bicycles and found out the hard way what the markings in the side walk were for. Here we met Daphney and Vat waiting in the lobby for us. (How about some remarks about the UGLY Americans guys ?) We hustled to dinner in the hotel and then we headed over to the town square where we were guests of the Mayor of Eindhoven and given seats in the reviewing stand. Wild Bill sat with the Mayor and American Ambassador to Holland, Some guy by da name of Sobel. NO KIDDING . What a coincidence. The parade was colassal, the groups of re-enactors and vehicles were unending, the bands outstanding, but the memorable thing for me was the youth groups that were interspaced between the others. It seems that the Nazis had outlawed all youth groups least the work against them, and substituted their 2, the Hitler youth and political group ( I forget its name). They had all sorts of different costumes and activities and they had traveled from all over the country to participate. Most impressive their dedication and work. I was sitting in the stand s in front of a group of British Paras. I struck up a conversation with two of them and listened to a great story. Sitting behind me was E Sargeant M. Walsh. He was in special ops durring the war. " I joined up when I was 16 in 1938. I volunteered for something in 1940 I was in France 3 times befor 1944. I finally came home and my wife asked me where I'd been ? and I replyed OH just out!" ( This was after an absence of a little over a year 43/44) The parade continued for over two hours and it stands up with one of if not the best I've ever been to. We were invited to the Mayor's reception afterward where he spoke and and they had a band playing all the favorites from the 40s. I met many vet including someothers from the101st like Bill France RHQ-501, GeneCavanaugh G-501, and Johm Primerano 501 HQ wire section. They were most enjoyable and I don't remember which one it was but he served under Capt Herbert Sobel at Chilton Folliat. He had nothing but the highest of praise for the Capt and said he was a fine officer.

I was introduced to a lady who was the younger sister of a little boy who had never eaten chocolate until he met David Kenyon Webster. Metty S' Yegers- Van Kooyk was a guest and I was fortunate to have a whirl around the dance floor with her. She was born about 9 months after the liberation of Eindhoven. The story of the chocolate is legend in her family. We only had the chance to speak briefly and I did not get the chance to ask her about her brother. She asked me alot of questions though.

From there I joined my newest best friend Seargent Walsh and his lads at a table where I got to listen to some men be boys again as the told their stories of operations and who were on them and who has jumped for the final time. At some point one of them said to me there was someone I had to meet, he dragged me across the room to a group and introduced me to Sgt. H W Fussel 21st Paras. Sgt fussel was at the bridge at Arnhem with Major Frost. I was not able to get many questions out as he and some of the others wanted to hear about the tour we were on. The were most gracious and a sharp bunch. Needless to say the night ended much to soon. I walked back to the hotel and joined the gang at the CP for a nightcap.


Yowser !
Jiggersfromsphilly

This report is fascinating. I'm drooling with envy and riveted. HOwever, I have to check on Roger Clemens in Boston and get some dinner, so I'll get back to this tomorrow.

ENCORE! ENCORE!

HOLLAND

TGV to Brussels, where we meet up with Steph and the bus (Steph having driven through the night to get there). In the Brussels train station, American well-wishers approach Babe and Bill; the Tour has obviously received a good deal of attention in Europe. Also in the train station, Babe convulses the tour group and everyone within earshot with a joke I can't repeat here.

Bus under gray Flemish skies to the Airborne museum at Best, in the Netherlands. [Sorry, Morgy, we didn't see much of Belgium on this leg of the trip]. Bill and Babe settle in for beers with old friends, while I meet, by prearrangement, Mark and Daphne! Having corresponded with them for months, it is a major kick to meet them in person. They are also excited to meet Babe and Bill and Jake and Chris. We quickly tour the museum, and make plans to rendezvous that night for dinner in Eindhoven.

Back on the bus, on the way to the 101st drop zone, I try to populate the woods with mental images taken from Don Burgett’s account of the fighting in the area. We stop in the woods by Drop Zone W, and Jake conducts a tour of the security force foxholes, picking up and passing out pieces of fabric from a glider that had crashed there. We pass long stretches of farmland; it still looks like an ideal drop zone. We pass a nearby house with a screaming eagle decoration embedded in the wall over the front door. The rural stretch is interrupted by a wide gash of new highway construction.

We emerge onto Hell’s Highway, now multi-laned and busy. Unfortunately, we don’t stop at the bridge in Son, so I try to grab photos on the fly. I understand why the mini-series did not portray the blowing of the bridge in Son – because it had been done so memorably in “A Bridge Too Far.” Still, I missed the bridge sequence in the series, as I missed coverage of the fighting on the way into Eindhoven.

Eindhoven. Driving into Eindhoven, Steph takes over the public address announcements, which he does with much more panache than our regular guide. Eindhoven is Steph’s home, and he proudly points out the streetlight decorations put up for Liberation Day, which include parachutes and Kilroy figures. He informs us that Babe was the first American into the center of Eindhoven in 1944.

Outside the hotel in the center of Eindhoven, we have our second fall of the trip when Phyllis Talbert (Tab’s sister-in-law) stumbles and hits her head while trying to steer clear of the bike lane that carves up the sidewalk. Doc Jan ministers to her, and she suffers no lasting damage, though considerable discomfort for a few days. More brownie points for Doc Jan.

Dinner with my Vat and Daffie, and a chance to talk. Mark and Daphne are eager for every detail of the trip thus far and tell me that WBG already has accounts and photos from the Tour’s passage through Toccoa and Aldbourne. They also inform me that Richard Speight, Jr., the actor who played Skip Muck, has posted a message from the actors assembled for the Emmies in Los Angeles to tell Bill and Babe that the assembly isn’t complete without them. I pass this on to Bill and Babe. (“Richard who? Oh, the kid who played Skip? Good kid.”) I’m agog at closing this particular loop: actor posts message to internet from Los Angeles, picked up by couple in Amsterdam, then relayed to me and to Bill and Babe in Eindhoven. Cool. I find out later that Mark and Daphne post a long account of our meeting on WBG (gone with the Cyberstorm). It was a major treat for me to hang out with them. Not to mention experiencing the blue of Daphne's eyes at close range . . .

I later find out that Bill and other honorees had dined with the Ambassadors to the Netherlands from Canada, France, England, and the U.S. Bill shows the placecard from the dinner for the U.S. ambassador whose name, as Tony says, and most improbably, is “Sobel.” (Bill says:“Can you believe dis?”)

I rejoin the group for the Liberation Day festivities. Bill has decreed that 101st jump jackets are the order of the day, and it is the only time I wear mine during the trip. The streets are cleared, making way for a single American jeep followed by a teenager jogging with the torch that was lit in Bayeux. On the way to the public square, I chat with a distinguished looking American fellow who says that his father fought with Colonel Cole of the 502nd in the cabbage patch outside of Carentan. Thanks to our privileged status with the Tour, we have grandstand seats for the Parade. Our jump jackets spark pleasant comments and conversation with the jolly, well-lubricated British vets who surround us. The Brit vets are a sight: blazers, ties, and berets, with overlapping rows of beribboned medals swaying on their chests.

The parade goes on and on. Band after band. WWII vehicle after WWII vehicle, driven by reenactors wearing U.S. and Commonwealth kit. Then social clubs fill the remaining places on the square, identified by their banners: the Boy Scouts, the Canoe Club, Greenpeace (??). The mayor makes a speech in Dutch. (It’s just was well that we didn’t comprehend it, as we are later told that it was a denunciation of US foreign policy.) A soprano ends the ceremony with a stirring “We’ll Meet Again.”

Inside City Hall for the Reception. Absolutely amazing. Flowing beer and wine. Big Band sounds from a band and singers, all dressed to the nines and coiffed in ‘40’s styles, every one of whom is an Eindhoven city employee. Every person in this crowd has a story I want to hear. 501st vets. 504th vets. XXX Corps vets. 1st Para vets. Older Dutch civilians, with the 101st tie clasp indicating their service to our troopers during the war. Some young soldiers in cammos, men and women, are wearing the “KFOR” patch, indicating service in the Kososvo peacekeeping force.

As Tony mentions, a number of us listen to the stories of Sgt. Fussell, a red-bereted, blazered, and bemedaled vet of the 21st Independent Paras, a pathfinder group. He tells us that he was at the bridge in Arnhem with Johnny Frost, and that he withdrew across the Rhine from the pocket at Oosterbeek. He also tells us that earlier in the war his paras had dropped in the North African desert in support of the Long Range Desert Patrols. Wow. [The next day, I see a group photo of the 21st Paras in the museum at Oosterbeek.]

A pipe and drum corps in tams and kilts snakes through the crowd playing classic Scottish airs. “Scotland the Brave.” “Amazing Grace,” joined by the soprano who ended the parade. And, it turns out, every one in the group is Dutch, with the sole exception of the Scottsh leader. Amazing.

I'm beginning to get the impression that the Dutch are extremely talented at understanding, deeply, other cultures. Mark and Daphne certainly bear this out. And the notion was supported over and over by our experiences on Liberation Day.

As Tony says, there was history on the hoof all around. It was hard not to act like an overstimulated puppy. I regret that I have no entree to any future reception on Liberation Day (we were there solely because we were members of the Tour.) But for any member of the Easy families group and other Airborne families -- Gene, Gino, Susan, Strikehold -- you who DO have entree ought to do whatever you can to experience the reception at least once. Magical.

The night went way late, and still ended much too soon. Which didn't make 0600 the next day any easier.

Just a missed piece. When the first stick landed in Cherbourg, the airport was virtually closed there was only a person to drive the baggage cart and a guy in the tower. We could see on landing a man standing by the fence waving a large American flag. It gave all of us a good feeling on reaching the continent. It was Steph and as Doug says a friend of Bill and Babes. ( along with half of the common Market). Very Good reporting Doug.

Yowser !
Jiggersfromsphilly

Dear Doug, Tony and Doc Mo, etc.,

Thanks for sharing your stories. Great stuff! I feel like I was there. I know I was in spirit. Next June I have signed up to join several other members of the families of Easy on an abbreviated tour of Easy steps through Europe, starting in Normandy, driven by your same Steph! I am excited as I want to experience it with some of the other kids and also I have never been to Europe! I am also hoping to take my kids if I can swing the cost as I think it is important for them to experience this as part of their own history. I hope to add some days in England. I wish I had three weeks and endless money.....

I will read this all more carefully again. You guys are terrific writers and make it all come alive for all of us.

Susan

Susan, thanks for the response. It is worth pausing to note how fun it was to have Steph around. He put enormous heart and soul into preparing for the trip, he's devoted to Bill and Babe, he has the Eindhovender's (?) historical appreciation for what happened in his city, and he has a most excellent humor, warmth, and energy. You will greatly enjoy being along with him.

And then you can post your memories . . .