LEBANON — Fred Hall was in the second wave of soldiers to storm Omaha Beach at Normandy. Florien St. Arnault was in the fourth wave. It was D-Day, June 6, 1944.
It was the long anticipated Invasion, dubbed Operation Overlord. France had been occupied by Nazi German forces since 1940.
The two men, who now live just a few miles apart ”“ St. Arnault in Lebanon and Hall in nearby Rochester, N.H., ”“ hadn’t met before they shared some of their experiences with reporters on Thursday. On Saturday, they’ll reminisce at a Witness to History program commemorating the 65th anniversary of D-Day, sponsored by American Legion Post 214 at Hanson Elementary School. The program begins at 10 a.m. and winds down around 2 p.m.
At 6:30 a.m., June 6, 1944, thousands of men on landing craft swarmed up the beaches. Some didn’t make it that far, tumbling into the ocean into chest high water ”“ carrying 60 pounds of gear. Others died in hails of gunfire.
The coastline had been fortified by the Germans in 1942, creating what was known as the Atlantic Wall with minefields, concrete walls, concrete bunkers, barbed wire fences, and fortified artillery emplacements. An invasion was expected, but Adolph Hitler was convinced it would come several miles away, at Pas de Calais. General Erwin Rommel, who had been named commander of the German armies from the Netherlands to the Loire River, was away in Germany, marking his wife’s birthday, according to historic accounts. Hitler was known to be a late sleeper, and no one dared wake him.
“Hitler was asleep. If he had given the order to send 20 Panzer divisions, I wouldn’t be here,” said St. Arnault. “The order never came.”
The Americans landed at Omaha and Utah beaches, the Canadians at Juno Beach, the British at Gold and Sword beaches.
Hall’s outfit landed about a quarter mile away from its intended destination, in a heavily fortified area.
“I got off the landing craft with (fellow soldier) Jim Dow,” recalled Hall. “He suddenly went down and I was in no place to stick around. So I kept on going.”
Later, a destroyer, running parallel to the beach, used 5-inch guns to neutralize the enemy fire, said Hall.
“It was a bad scene,” said Hall Thursday. “People coming in boats were getting shot. Our assistant regimental commander was killed by a sniper. We got off the beach and went inland 200 to 300 yards and the battalion commander said ”˜stay here’ and he took off to find out where the forward companies were. We were pinned down. There were 32 people on my landing craft; 14 reached the beach.”
“At the time, I was scared out of my skin. But I obeyed orders,” said St. Arnault.
Both men survived the invasion and the war. Both went on to fight in the Battle of the Bulge. They returned home, safe and sound.
But while that war is long since over and the two men don’t make a point of dwelling on those days, Hall, 88, and St. Arnault, 87, are among dwindling numbers of World War II veterans still living who made the push that signaled a turning point in the war that seemed to never end.
St. Arnault was living in New Haven, Conn. when he was drafted in late 1941. The private first class was a gunner in the 449th AAA battalion of the 5th Division ”“ a so-called “ack-ack” outfit. His job was to raise and lower the muzzle of 40 mm Swedish Bofors anti-aircraft guns.
Hall had graduated from Reserved Officer Training Corps at the University of New Hampshire in 1941 and joined the 2nd battalion of the 16th infantry regiment of the 1st Division ”“ The Big Red One ”“ on Dec. 10 that year, as a Second Lieutenant.
His job was an operations officer in the assault battalion that advanced as the second wave about 20 minutes after the first wave of soldiers stormed Omaha Beach.
Both men had seen action before D-Day and both saw it afterward. St. Arnault went on to cross the Rhine into Germany. Hall had previously fought in North Africa and Sicily and after the Invasion of Normandy went on to Czechoslovakia.
The invasion had been planned for months. Hall, in his position as an officer, was told of the plan in January.
“The most extraordinary thing was the security,” said Hall. “The number of people, ships, and planes involved sitting around in England. It’s extraordinary the security held up.”
St. Arnault and his fellow soldiers were stationed in Ipswich, England. They knew something was coming.
“We didn’t know what, or when,” he said.
After D-Day, Hall’s outfit went 15 miles inland to Caumont and held positions there. St. Arnault went on to St. Lo.
“It was hedgerow country. It was miserable,” St. Arnault recalled. The Germans had booby-trapped some hedgerows, or were hiding in others. “A sniper could pick you off,” he said.
Fighting in Germany, St. Arnault contracted pneumonia and was on a ship back to America on May 8, 1945, when he learned the war in Europe was over. He returned to Connecticut where he worked in the sheet metal industry until retiring to Lebanon about 15 years ago.
St. Arnault said he doesn’t dwell on those days so long ago.
“I try not to let it bother me. If I thought about how horrendous it was, I wouldn’t sleep,” he said.
Hall returned to New Hampshire after the war, where he practiced law for 60 years, retiring just a year ago.
“There were a lot of D-Days in World War II,” he said, recalling battles in North Africa, Sicily and the Pacific. “People forget about the other D-Days.”
— Staff Writer Tammy Wells can be contacted at 324-4444 or at twells@journaltribune.com.
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