By Dorothy Brush / dcb1@frontier.net
June 04, 2009 05:03 pm
—
Over the air waves that night of June 6, 1944 the nation heard the tired voice of Franklin Delano Roosevelt speaking the familiar words, “My fellow Americans,” as he began his prayer at the end of that long invasion day. He said, “In this poignant hour, I ask you to join me in prayer. Almighty God; Our sons, pride of our nation, this day have set upon a mighty endeavor. A struggle to preserve our republic, our religion, and our civilization, and to set free a suffering humanity. With Thy blessing, we shall prevail over the unholy forces of our enemy. Help us to conquer the apostles of greed and racial arrogances. Lead us to the saving of our country, and with our sister nations into a world unity that will spell a sure peace — a peace invulnerable to the schemes of unworthy men. And a peace that will let all men live in freedom, reaping the just rewards of their honest toil. Thy will be done, Almighty God. Amen.”
In 1969 I was visiting friends in Bryan, OH where we once lived when I learned that the Methodist minister there, the Rev. Charles Reed, had been the first American chaplain to reach Omaha Beach on June 6. I was fortunate that he had time to give me an interview.
That year of 1969 was the 25th anniversary of D-Day but as we talked it might have been yesterday. That June day left splinters of remembrance embedded in the brains of those who were part of it; splinters that can never be entirely removed. In the dark of night when the mind is still, they shift and prick at the consciousness until the horrors that were seen, the screams pounding in the ears, again become too real to ever be forgotten. For posterity, the day turned to print in a book of history, but those who moved through D-Day almost in a state of shock are doomed to live it over and over.
Reed had volunteered for the chaplaincy in May 1942 and he spent 18 months in England training for the invasion. In the last several weeks the invasion forces were confined behind barbed wire. Tension mounted daily and he was called often to counsel men who attempted suicide or to bury one who had succeeded. Even after they had boarded ships a weather postponement delayed them for a 24-hour period. It was about midnight when the ship headed out and Reed and his young assistant prepared for a communion service. Mac was a young man with a master’s degree in music and as they worked he spoke softly to Reed. “I’ll never live the day out.”
At the service Reed spoke of things that cannot be shaken. He hoped to reassure Mac and all the men who knew they were about to walk through the shadow of death. It was about dawn when they scrambled into landing crafts to carry them as near the beach as they dared. Then they were spilled into the icy waters of the channel.
Chaplain Reed was in the second wave, H-hour plus 30 minutes. As he struggled in the rough water he recognized lifeless bodies of men who had attended the communion service only a short time before. As he tried to comprehend the carnage he stepped into a deep hole and weighted down by heavy gear he went under twice before one of his men turned back and saved him from drowning.
When he reached the shore one of the first bodies he saw was Mac who had carried a bazooka ashore. Though mortally wounded, he smiled as Reed leaned close to his ear and said, “Mac, God is with you.” In the early evening Chaplain Reed came back along the beach and Mac still smiled, a smile of peace.
During those first hours on the beach it seemed to Reed the whole invasion was a disorganized shambles. The beach was under constant fire and there was no place to take cover. Shortly after he reached the shore he was wounded but he was awarded the Silver Star for gallantry for his actions while awaiting evacuation. He saw a soldier caught in the undercurrent as he left a landing craft. Despite the fact he had received no medical treatment Reed swam to the aid of the drowning man and brought him to shore safely.
With war’s end Captain Reed served as chaplain of the Ohio National Guard and division chaplain of the 37th Infantry Division. Lt. Col Reed retired after 21 year with the guard.
As the interview ended I felt I had heard about the day God walked in hell.
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