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for, we headed back to Davenport supposedly to resume our previous training.  When we got back we
were told to take only that equipment we would need right away for we would be moving out in a few
days.  10 days later we moved through several towns on a long motor march down to what is known as a
marshaling area, Cheptsow, a town close to Newport, on the Bristol Channel.
At once activity was stepped up to a lively pace.  Our wanderings were limited and much paperwork had
to be done.  Amazingly enough our "Chow" improved greatly, accompanied by such cracks as "fattening
for the kill” and many others.  Extra classes on first aid, gas, and our own particular jobs were being
held, and a few speeches from visiting firemen telling us that the "chips were down".
In the last few days of our stay at this place no one was allowed in or out of the camp.  On the 28th of
May the truck drivers took all the heavy equipment down to the docks and loaded them on the liberty
ships that were to take us to our objective, and the battalion followed on the train, June 1st.
We stood off Newport for at least 48 hours while waiting for our convoy to be made up and then sailed
down the channel and around Land’s End into the English Channel.
On June 4th, a day of much excitement for all of us we were briefed by our officers.  That caused plenty
of talk among the boys for we knew that at last we were to get a crack at the much-hated enemy.  We
were to land in France behind the assault division.  Two years of patient waiting and now the time had
arrived for everyone to prove his mettle.
June 6th was a big day for everyone.  At home the folks were all in church, while everybody was tense,
expecting most anything to happen.  Early in the evening the skipper of the boat called all hands aft to
tell us that the beachhead landings and the airborne had all been initially successful, but also that the
American Fifth Army had taken Rome.  The big thing in everyone's mind now was, when were we
going to land, for the land was not yet in sight and our planes were shuttling back and forth all day long
across the channel, and our destroyers were doubly alert as they cut the water around us.
The morning of the seventh at approximately 0200 we were all alerted for submarine attack.  One had
been located in our vicinity and our "Greyhounds” were out after it.  After a few moments, needless to
say anxious ones, we were told to go back to bed.  Later that night some planes flew over but no calling
cards were dropped and so no alert was sounded.  That morning, just as it was getting daylight some of
us went up on deck to watch for the sight of land.  Soon a faint dark line could be seen in the distance. 
We were approaching the shore of France.  It was not very long after that when we began to hear the
heavy guns shooting toward shore.  When the ship hove in closer we saw that it was a big
"Battlewagon” and later found it to be the USS Texas one of the ships so badly damaged at Pearl
Harbor, showing the axis just what it was made of, and typifying the "Yankee spirit”.  This was D plus 2
and we were swinging anchor off of Utah Beach.  Looking around gave us the biggest thrill and
impression yet felt as to our future combat power.  Boats of all descriptions as far as the eye could reach,
accompanied by an umbrella of Air Corps, all before this tiny strip of land.  As the sun came up the haze
cleared up more and more.
The huge barrage balloons, like great sausages, swung from their cables, an ever present reminder that
the forces of Hermann Goering may come at any time.  Slowly our ship moved through channels,
cleared of mines, to reach our anchorage in closer to the shore.  Many were anchored permanently: here
a destroyer down by the stern, there a landing craft’s bow sticking out of the water like a shark's fin. 
From the flying bridge of the ship an airplane spotter, with powerful glasses, swept the skies continually. 
Naval guns fired tremendous salvos shoreward.  The beach was littered with landing craft and knocked
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