That was the beginning of the war ...

Chapter 13 (continued) Shower of Frogs

[Although Bill Stigall had been involved in combat in North Africa and Italy, this was the real war as far as he was concerned. - SP]

This continues D-Day

The gliders came to earth in every imaginable position. They lay over the fields like huge fallen birds, some intact, some lying still, as if a single bullet had brought them to earth. Others were mangled as if shotgun shells had scattered their parts. White parachutes covered a number of dead American soldiers lying beside the gliders. It was now that the final arguments long existing between paratroopers and glidermen as to which job was the worst were settled. Neither was worth a damn. Red, green, yellow, and white chutes were hanging from trees, draped over hedgerows, or lying flat on the fields. Some were still attached to the tails of gliders, where they had been used as brakes for the speeding descent. A certain number of glidermen in U.S. and British Borsa gliders, the great plywood monsters, got no farther into France than the soil of Normandy. First this number seemed enormous, but later it proved less than some expected.

I had a small cut on the top of my head from the glider landing. My head felt as if it would burst. The medical officer powdered it with sulfa and gave me some pills. [For this he would be awarded the Purple Heart, not something he much mentioned except in mild embarrassment.]

The day of the eighth was spent maneuvering and bringing up supplies to troops engaged in fighting Germans. I drove down roads with hedgerows about ten feet high on each side. The hedges were wild and untrimmed, and many nestled snipers. It was a tedious and dangerous job getting them out. Shortly before darkness we moved forward, just as we thought we'd settle for the night. Under the cover of approaching darkness I drove my jeep and trailer of ammunition down a railroad track that was inundated.

I drove a mile or so and crossed a swamp over a road, flooded but marked by engineers with white cloth. Beyond this we went down a deeply banked road and into an apple orchard. I unhooked the trailer and parked it about twenty-five yards away under a tree heavy with small reddish green fruit about an inch in thickness. I started to dig another slit trench beside the jeep but didn't have the strength. It was now completely dark. I fell asleep.

Sometime during the night all hell broke loose. Machine-gun fire ripped over our heads; mortar and artillery shells dropped terrifyingly close. I was frightened and started to dig a trench. I still couldn't do it. Also, it hardly seemed safe to try. I hugged the side of the jeep. Information was shouted out to me that the Germans were coming through our area. We were to hold our positions. No one seemed to know from what direction they were coming. No one seemed to know where the rest of our company was. No one seemed to know anything. We prepared to meet the German attack. I took from the jeep the Browning automatic rifle, put the tripod on the front, and waited. I was about to face my first German. It was a sickening experience.