There is a name on a cross in a sea of crosses on a hillside in Normandy. Each of those names was once on the lips of loved ones as they called out to ardent young men who had their whole lives in front of them. Their names echoed on the nearby cliffs and beaches below, shouted by their brothers in arms in a hellscape of terror as they stood together against a gale-force of tyranny that had very nearly swept the world.
The scene at the Omaha Beach landing that greeted 1st Lieutenant Jimmie Monteith Jr. and the 1st Infantry Division’s first wave assault was one of utter chaos and horror. Everything in the sequencing of the attack that could go wrong had gone worse. Unanticipated cloud cover blinded high-altitude allied bombers targeting the German defenses near the beach. Adolf Hitler’s “Atlantic Wall” of fortresses and bunkers stretching from Norway to the northern coast of Spain remained intact and deadly.
On Omaha a well-camouflaged lattice work of enemy pillboxes, bunkers and artillery positions were still dug into the steep bluffs, the Germans looking down on more than 200 yards of open beach through gun scopes. Stormy weather and an unexpectedly strong tidal current swept many of the landing craft off course, including those carrying tanks meant to offer cover and supporting fire to the landing party. Many of the tanks that made it to the beach on the first wave were quickly destroyed by German anti-tank guns.
