First Wave D-Day Survivor of Omaha Beach.

 First Wave D-Day Survivor of Omaha Beach.

Listen as U.S. Navy Sailor, Bill Grannetino (A First Wave D-Day Survivor of Omaha Beach) describes his reassignment to a British Infantry Unit that’s preparing to fight street to street liberating the French City of Caen.    

From the Book - We were told the British were supposed to have taken the city of Caen on D-Day, and that even after a couple of weeks of fighting and several attempts, they still hadn’t pushed the Germans out of Caen.

 Our American commanders had decided to help the British with some reinforcements. 

They were now gathering any available men and sending them to help those British troops. 

Because most of us were doing nothing more than busy work, it was decided that half our crew would be assigned to this new duty. Reading the list of names, it included both Tillins and me. 

The next morning, several other U.S. sailors along with Tillins and myself gathered our personal belongings and reported to an army supply tent. 

There we were issued army clothing, a loaded backpack, a rifle, and ammunition. Next we were loaded onto trucks and driven to a British camp north of Caen.

Arriving at the British camp midday, at which point all of us Americans were paired up and assigned to British squads.

 Understanding the value of having a friend in unfamiliar territory, Tillins and I gladly paired up and were assigned to a group of eight British soldiers. 

These British guys seemed like a bunch of really nice fellows with great attitudes, which was remarkable considering they had spent the last two weeks trying to fight their way into Caen.

As we introduced ourselves, the looks of confusion were clearly visible on their faces, and their first question to us was, why in the hell were a couple of American navy guys assigned to a British infantry squad? 

We told them we really didn’t have any idea why and that their guess was as good as ours. All we knew was that we were a couple of U.S. sailors following orders.

When we finally got into Caen hardly a building was standing. Tillins and I advanced with a group of British foot soldiers on a main road in our squad’s section of Caen. 

We moved in and out of the various buildings, using them as cover until we came to a large factory comprised of several large buildings. When we started crossing the loading yard in the center of the plant, enemy fire opened up.

 Several men who were leading the squad fell dead. The rest of us took cover and started returning fire.

From somewhere on the opposite end of the factory, the Germans had a machine gun set up.

 Several other German soldiers were shooting from doors or windows, while others had taken positions on the different roofs of the factory’s buildings.

Our British sergeant started yelling out orders, ordering us to fall back. Tillins and I ran back through the inside of the factory’s shipping building.

 When we got back to the main road, we were quickly divided up and sent to positions to defend ourselves.

 Tillins and I were sent with several others of the remaining British soldiers to stop any flanking attempt by the Germans. 

No sooner were we set up when they began trying to flank our position. As we watched their advance, we were told to hold our fire until the last possible moment.

When we could see about ten or twelve of the Germans within what I would say was about thirty-five to forty yards of us, we opened fire.

 Several fell dead; others ran for cover into the collapsed buildings. We shot at them and they returned fire for a few minutes.

 Then, all of a sudden, the firefight stopped and it became quiet. They were now holding fire and we held fire. Seeing no enemy to shoot at, we just maintained our positions. 

Both sides were on watch for each other’s next move. With this break in the fighting, our sergeant called for reinforcements.

As we waited for our reinforcements, we also continued watching for the Germans’ next move. We kept particularly careful watch on the areas where we last saw the enemy.

 As I was peeking over the collapsed stone wall, I could smell the smoke of wood burning. 

I turned to see what was burning and saw British soldiers starting a fire to heat water for tea. I couldn’t believe it.

 At any minute we could be overrun and killed! There were men not too far from us lying dead men that we had just killed. How could they be thinking of tea at a time like this?

 How could they not stay on watch in the event the Germans made a move? I just looked at Tillins and shook my head.

 Tillins said under his breath, “It must be some really good tea.”

When our reinforcements showed up, they had an American bazooka with them.

 I watched as our British sergeant and these guys talked about the best way to attack the building where the Germans were taking cover.

 It was decided that we would all get into different angled positions so we could put different angles of fire on the building.

 In the center of this, the bazooka team would start off by firing into the front window of the building where the Germans were last seen.

 Then, immediately, we infantry soldiers would start shooting to keep pressure on them as the bazooka reloaded to fire again. 

The overall plan was to attack and keep attacking until they were all dead, had retreated, or had surrendered—whichever came first.

It only took a few minutes until we were all in position.

 The bazooka team got ready to fire by first looking left and then right. With that, they fired and there was a huge explosion. Fire blew out all the doors and windows.

 Immediately we added fire while the bazooka was reloading. Wood splintered and stone collapsed and fell. 

The bazooka fired several more shots into several other main areas as we continued shooting and keeping the pressure on with more and more continuous fire.

Then we were all ordered to hold our fire. I figured we had gotten all of them; I was sure that nothing or no one could live through what we had just witnessed.

 Within a few seconds of holding our fire, we started receiving fire from within the buildings our bazooka had just decimated.

 I couldn’t believe it! How could they still be alive? If they had lived through that, they should have been waving a white flag in surrender, not shooting back.

 Those sons-of-bitches were some really tough bastards; they had to have been the bravest men I had ever seen—or the dumbest. They had to know they were going to die if they didn’t give up, but instead they were shooting back at us.

Within a few seconds we were all shooting again as the bazooka fired into the center of what was left of the occupied building. Several Germans were killed in that blast.

 Their shooting stopped for a moment. I expected the final survivors to start filing out with their hands over their heads. 

To our continued surprise, the few who were left started shooting again. It looked as though we would have to kill every single one of those bastards. 

With that, we kept heavy fire on them while the bazooka fired into several main doors and windows of the buildings from which they were firing.

 Finally, all their shooting stopped, indicating the men inside were finally dead.

 The pile of debris that was once a building was now burning, and heavy smoke was pouring out of openings that were once doors and windows.

We walked over toward the buildings and looked at the dead Germans. 

I couldn’t believe it. Not one of those guys looked to be over eighteen or twenty years old. They were nothing more than kids.

 We couldn’t understand why they didn’t surrender. One of the older British soldiers said, “It’s like flushing rats out of a garbage can.

 If they had any good sense, they would have given up and lived.

” I just kept thinking to myself that they were some of the toughest and bravest guys I had ever seen in my life.

 I still couldn’t believe how they fought back as we were firing a bazooka on their position. They had to know they were all going to die for nothing.