An Cosantóir

An Cosantóir July/August 2019 www.dfmagazine.ie 32 | BY LT COL DAN HARVEY RET'D "I landed on D-Day in water waist deep and waded ashore in the midst of the most incredible sight in his- tory. The fleet of ships was terrific and my first sight of France was a church steeple with a hole clean through the side of it – a German plane appeared, and as if by magic six of ours were on his tail and down he came." - Reverend Cyril Patrick Crean (Dublin), Chaplain 29th Armoured Brigade Seventy-five years ago, on 6 June 1944, D-day, the largest land inva- sion of the twentieth century, be- gan. Its scale was unprecedented. It was a task of enormous complexity and great difficulty, an immense undertaking, both stark in its magni- tude and in the realisation that if the Allied forces failed, faltered or otherwise came up short in Normandy – and war is unpredictable – then the war might drag on for years. Thousands of Irish soldiers, both Irish-born and members of the Irish diaspora, were among the British, US and Canadian units landing in France on D-Day and beyond to Berlin, until VE Day. They played a small but significant role in driving the German Army, first from France and then back across Europe to the German capital itself. Their sacrifice, contribution and effort have had to be exhumed from the corners of Irish history. Theirs was often a narrative not related, a recognition neither commemorated nor celebrated. Yet their sacrifice, suffering and sorrow were all very real. The proper presentation of such participation is long overdue. Like many soldiers who survived the Second World War, Irish vet- erans rarely spoke about their experiences, but in all, it is believed that some 120,000 Irish fought with the British. Many thousands more Irish Americans fought alongside them. The 'D-Day Irish' are no longer to be ignored; the role they played will no longer go un- written. Irish men and women of all ranks and none were involved in D-Day, and in each of the phases, facets and events of this epic story there was Irish participation. One of the first US paratroopers on the ground on D-Day was the 82nd's Bob Murphy, an Irish-American member of the 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment's Pathfinder platoon, the only 'stick' to land intact on D-Day, a mile west of Sainte-Mère-Église. Others – most – were far from where they should have been; they had crossed the 'start line', the first shots had been fired and the plan had fallen apart. But the men intended to do what they were sent to Normandy to do. There was little or nothing the twenty or so American parachutists could do, coming down directly onto the vil- lage square of Sainte-Mère-Église, their arrival lit by a blazing build- ing, one unfortunate even being sucked into and engulfed by its flames. Others were mowed down, instantly killed by the frenzied machine-gun fire of the frightened German garrison. However, dawn was to see Sainte-Mère-Église liberated by the 82nd, their objective achieved; the first French village to be freed of German occupation. The Nazi swastika that had hung from the town hall for four years was removed. Captain Patrick James Ness of Michigan, whose mother was Irish (a McAuliffe), flew four sorties over Normandy on D-Day in his P-47 Thunderbolt ('the Jug') with the US 81st Fighter Squadron. His initial memory of the day was being woken early to discover that while they (the pilots) were sleeping, their fighter bomber aircraft had been painted overnight with the black and white striped iden- tification markings unique to D-Day, 'in poor quality paint, more like whitewash'. They had come over from America in February 1944 and flew their first operational missions commencing 1 May out of Leamington airfield. His father, a Norwegian immigrant who arrived to the US in 1872, was a mining engineer and so he gravi- tated towards that industry, which had a large Irish contingent. After eleven years in New York he went to Michigan and became involved in the Ancient Order of Hibernians (AOH), an Irish-Amer- ican society that brought him into contact with his soon-to-be 'Irish' wife, to whom Patrick James was subsequently born. When RAF Dakota aircraft kicked off the D-Day invasion on 6th June 1944. Photo: Gary Eason/Flight Artworks/Alamy Stock Photo A Bloody Dawn: The Irish at D-Day by Dan Harvey, is published by Merrion Press and is reviewed on page 46.

• Cover