5th June

At last we’re moving! We’re on our way to the docks and it sounds like this may be it! The drills, the practice and the secrecy are done with. We’re all pretty excited. It’ll be good to hit back at Jerry. It’s been far too long.

On the ship now and it’s crammed with soldiers from all over the place. Just been talking with a Canadian who was billeted with the Yanks somewhere Cornwall way. I’ve never seen so many soldiers. Jerry won’t stand a chance!

6th June

First light and we’re somewhere off the French coast. We’ll be transferring to the landing barges soon! Everyone is in fine spirits.

On the barge now and a number of the chaps are being very seasick. We’re bobbing up and down like a cork in a mill race. Every one of us is weighed down with about 40lbs of ammo and rations ready for the assault, plus a tiny life protector. Seems a bit pointless really, bearing in mind where we're heading.

7th June

I’m alive but God alone knows how. Now the excitements over, I’m hunkered down just off the beach. Sporadic gunfire breaks the silence; the hot iron smell of blood mixes with cordite in the air. I have seen sights I would not wish on my worst enemy and I have an urgent need to get the day’s events on paper.

Looking back I have to admit we were getting pretty excited about it – our first taste of combat and all. But then, as the skyline lightened, the shells from the German artillery started to fall and the prayers started. Over to our left one of the barges took a direct hit and went down. Poor sods didn’t stand a chance. Then bullets started to fizz across our heads and the front of the barge finally grounded.

It could easily have been the gates of Hell opening; As the ramp went down the entire first three ranks just fell – I don’t think a single one even drew breath. I hated having to step over their bodies but I had no choice. As I reached the ramp I decided to go off the side and I’m so glad I did; Jerry had at least one machine gun trained on us and no-one got to the end of that ramp. At least in the water I felt my destiny was in my own hands.

As I waded away from the barge, bullets and tracer seemed to be coming from everywhere, and all I could do was pray and continue forward. When finally I got to the beach, I belly crawled through the tank and barge defences as quickly as I could. I reckoned if I could get beyond the open sand then I had a chance. Somehow I made it to the grass line and for the first time had a chance to catch my breath. My heart was fit to burst out my chest and it struck me then that I hadn’t let off a single shot.

As more and more of us made it to cover, we finally managed to clear the German defences and take stock. I remember looking back at what must once have been a beautiful golden beach, seeing it tainted red; waves gently rocking bodies and detritus all along the shore line.

June 8th

Taking a break with some of the lads on the outskirts of a small French village. Someone said that we should take care, that a Jerry sniper is making a bloody nuisance of himself somewhere nearby. I also hear that the Yanks have taken Bayeaux to the West of us so that’s good news.
Looking forward to a well-earned bite to eat and some decent rest. I’m so tired. Must get

(Private Edward Davis died June 8th 1944, the victim of a sniper. He had lied about his age and had just celebrated his 17th birthday. When found, this blood stained diary and pencil were still in his hands )