Shortly after 6:30am on 6th June 1944 along
this stretch of sand, men of the US 1st Infantry Division emerged from their landing craft into a
hail of gunfire which in just minutes had killed or wounded hundreds. Over the next few hours many
more would fall as men found themselves trapped on the beach under murderous machine gun fire. The
only thing standing in the way of catastrophe that morning was the courage of small groups
of soldiers, who braved the storm of bullets to breach the defences of the Atlantic Wall. In this
video, we’ll blend the latest technology, actual footage from that day and the testimony of those
who were there, to follow in the footsteps of the men of one landing craft, on that one day, who
were amongst the very first to unlock Omaha Beach. When finally it was decided in early 1944
exactly where to make the long-awaited Allied assault into north-west Europe,
it was clear to all that it would be far from easy. Let’s find out why. The actual
location chosen to land on D-Day was here, in the Normandy region of France. Split across
five main invasion beaches, British troops of the 3rd Infantry Division would come ashore on Sword
Beach, next to them Canadian forces would land at Juno, to their west the British 50th Division
would land on the beach code-named Gold and on the Cotentin Peninsula US forces would arrive on
Utah beach. Between them, lay one final location, to be assaulted by American troops of the 1st
and 29th Infantry Divisions - Omaha Beach. Omaha itself was in truth very different from
the other beaches, at 3.7 miles long, it was, and is, a picturesque crescent of golden sands.
But what makes it unique, and in fact a nightmare to assault, is this, a continual line of high
ground, or bluffs, running along its length just beyond the beach. Rising to a height
of some 100 feet, it wasn’t insurmountable, but from a defender’s perspective, it offered
unobstructed views of the entire approach, great opportunities to dig in and create defences,
and forced any attacker to fight uphill in order to take them. If there was a weak point to
this location, and that in itself is arguable, it was these - a series of five natural inlets
in the form of valleys running from the beach inland to eventually meet this main road set back
from the coast. These inlets, known as draws, had been identified by the allies as the key to
unlocking Omaha. Not only did they offer a route inland that did not require scaling those bluffs,
but crucially, they were the only path armour and vehicles could take to get off the beach.
The problem was, the Germans knew that too. In fact, their entire defensive network in
this area, and it was an impressive one, was based on that very premise. This stretch of
the Atlantic Wall, like all others, was made up of a series of strongpoints, known as Widerstand or
Resistence Nests. These ‘WN’s’ comprised a range of defensive structures from concrete pillboxes
and rifle positions holding a single man, to large casemates concealing anti-tank
guns and everything in between. Each WN, was strategically sited to offer mutual support
and to overlook one of the key draws off the beach. In this area there were 15 different
positions, linked by trenches running along the line of bluffs, manned by approximately
1000 men, with over 80 machine guns, 18-anti-tank guns and at least 9 mortar
positions. A very tough nut to crack. But cracked it had to be. And when allied planners
had begun looking in detail at Omaha, they, like with all other beaches, had broken them down into
individual sectors. In the West, where the Rangers and men of the 29th Infantry Division were to
come ashore were Charlie, Dog Green, White and Red sectors, and Easy Green and to the Eastern half of
the beach, were Easy Red, and Fox Green. These two sectors were to be assaulted by men of the highly
regarded US 1st Infantry Division, the ‘Big Red One’. It is on those men, and specifically
Easy Red Sector where our focus will lie. So what about those doing the
attacking? Well for this video, we’ll focus on just 32 men who came shore
together in an LCVP or ‘Higgins’ Boat in the first wave that morning. They were these
guys, men of E Company, 16th Infantry Regiment, under the command of 29 year-old
2nd Lieutenant John Spalding. By turning to the vast records archive
available at Find My Past, we learn that John Martin Spalding was born on 17th December
1914 in the state of Indiana to a working class family. His father Hugh was in the US National
Census for 1930 noted as a Cooper by trade, working in a Tobacco Warehouse in Owensboro,
Kentucky, where John and his 4 siblings were raised. A further record for February 1941
tells us that John had actually enlisted in the Army at Louisville Kentucky before
the outbreak of war as a Private Soldier, later being commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant in
the 1st Infantry Division, which is exactly where he found himself on the eve of D-Day. Yet to see
combat, he was nevertheless keen to do his bit. Alongside him in his boat section and acting
as his deputy section leader was Technical Sergeant Philip ‘Phil’ Streczk. Despite being
four years younger than Spalding, Streczk, a New Jersey native of Polish heritage, was
vastly experienced. Having been drafted in 1940, he had already seen service in Tunisia
and Sicily where he had earned no less than three silver stars for gallantry and a
reputation as a courageous and resourceful soldier. His leadership qualities had seen him
quickly rise to Technical Sergeant. Known to be sharp minded and sharp tongued, he was said
to have scared young GIs as much as the enemy, but when it came to a fight,
no-one doubted Streczk’s abilities. Also in the section were these
men, including Sergeants Colwell, Colson and Bisco, along with 20-year
old Brooklyn Native Vincent ‘Vinny’ DiGiatano who had the ominous duty of
carrying the section’s flamethrower. And so, it was these 32 men, along with the
remainder of E Company, 16th IR who were given the job of prizing open the defences of Hitler’s
Atlantic Wall on this part of Easy Red. Their job, quite simply was to land in this area, advance
up the E1 draw and into St-Laurent-Sur-Mer, neutralising the enemy defences along the way,
including right here, at WN 64. In doing so, they would unlock one half of the E-1 Draw,
allowing the follow on waves to push up the Le Ruquet valley and outflank all remaining
defences on Omaha. At least that was the idea. This aerial image, allows us to explore
the area as it looked at the time. In the ‘Easy Red’ sector we can clearly identify the
location of German defences including WN64, which was in fact still under construction on
D-Day. Perhaps most important is this area, the remnants of a knocked down house, known
on allied maps as the ‘Roman Ruins’. This was a key orientation point on Easy Red, and its
actual location, can still be identified today by this concrete block, which was present in 1944 and
shows us exactly where the ruins, long since gone, were once located. This will be the area in
which Spaldings’ and so, our story, will unfold. To tell that story we have the benefit of
Spalding’s own words and recollections from that momentous day. By 6.30am on 6th June his craft,
filled with terrified, spray soaked and almost entirely seasick-men found itself heading for
the shore as part of the 1st Wave on Omaha Beach. When we got 200 yards offshore the boat halted
and a member of the navy crew yelled for us to drop the ramp. Sergeant Fred Bisco and
I kicked the ramp down. Shortly before this a navy man had mounted the machine gun on
the rear of the LCVP and had started to return fire. We were now receiving not only machine
gun fire, but also mortar and artillery fire We had come in at low tide and the
obstacles were noticeable. As we left the boat we spread out in a V formation
about 30 yards across. There was soon a noticeable decline of sand beneath our
feet and we were soon over our heads, so we tried to swim. Sergeant Streczyk and the
medic Private George Bowen were carrying an 18 foot ladder which was to be used for crossing
the anti-tank ditch or for any purpose which might arise. They were struggling with it in the
water just about time that I was having my worst trouble afloat. As the ladder came by me I
grabbed it. Streczyk yelled and said “Lieutenant, we don’t need any help”, but hell I was
busy trying to get help not to give it”. What Spalding and his men had very quickly found
was that rather than land directly on the beach, they had in fact hit a sandbar and had to
cross several deep pools, almost fatally, before even reaching the shore. Now, cold,
thoroughly waterlogged and still hundreds of yards from the dubious safety at the base
of the bluffs in this area, they had to make their way as best as they could towards their
objective. Their saving grace, was in many ways, a tragic one. The fire they took was less than
they might have expected, for several reasons. First, they had landed in front of a relative weak
spot between WN62 & WN64 in a lightly defended part of the beach. Sadly, the other reason was
that the rest of E Company, and most of the 16th had not. Drifting left on their run in, they had
landed directly into the mouth of WN62, one of the most formidable defensive positions on Omaha.
The result was the gunners in that position had plenty of easier targets much closer by, and the
destruction they wrought in just a few minutes on the rest of E Company and the 16th was horrific.
For Spalding and his men, the advance across the beach was still no easy task. In navigating
the beach obstacles, they had to avoid mines, mortar and plenty of small arms fire, pres
sing on as fast as their heavy equipment and waterlogged clothes would allow. It was during
this time Privates Roper and Tilley were both hit, but thankfully no-one killed. That
changed just a few moments later, when reaching this area around the ‘Roman Ruins’
Sergeant Ramundo, seeing the beleaguered E Company men under WN62 several hundred yards to his
left, began moving in that direction, only to be hit and killed by a sniper from the Bluffs above.
It was here, sheltering below the bluffs of Omaha Beach that finally Spalding’s men were able to
return fire, targeting lone riflemen and several concealed machine gun positions to their left.
For those less fortunate, like Pfc DiGaetano, he was told to head back on to the beach to
retrieve the flamethrower pack that had done its best to drown him on the way to shore. It was now
that Spalding with the vastly experienced Streczk took stock. Clearly they were alone, though in
something of a dead spot and with a small natural gulley to their front, and it seemed that they
were faring far better than their comrades further down the beach. So, there was only one choice,
push on, scale the bluffs and silence those guns. In order to do that, first a section of barbed
wire to their front had to be breached with a Bangalore Torpedo, which was accomplished by
Staff Sergeant Colwell, eventually opening up a path right here to climb the bluffs.
With Streczk in the lead, and using all his experience to avoid the hundreds of
mines sewn into the slopes, they began to advance along this track, possibly passing a
fortunately silent German machine gun position, all the while using the many dips and
depressions for cover from small arms fire as they did so. It was by now about 7:30.
Advancing painfully slowly against ever heavier small arms fire and with the constant
risk of tripping mines beneath their feet, the men of E Company, as always, led by Streczk
advanced yard by yard up the bluffs. Over the next hour that advance continued with the
command strung out, and the leading elements probing the enemy line, occasionally
engaging small groups of enemy soldiers in a truly nerve-wracking experience. For the E
Company men, there was one particular position, manned by a lone machine gunner just short
of the crest to their front which was proving decidedly problematic. Here’s Spalding again.
I couldn’t take my eye off the machine gun above us, so Sgt. Bisco kept saying: “Lieutenant watch
out for the damn mines.” They were a little box type mine and it seems that the place was
infested with them, but I didn’t see them. The Lord was with us and we had an
angel on each shoulder on that trip. Trying to get the machine above us Sergeant
Blades fired his bazooka and missed. He was shot in the left arm almost immediately.
Pfc. Curley was shot down next. Sergeant Phelps moved into position to fire and was shot in
both legs. By this time practically all my section had moved up. We decided to rush the machine
gun about 15 yards away. As we rushed it the lone German operating the gun threw up his hands
and yelled “Kamerad”. We would have killed him, but we needed prisoners for interrogation, so I
ordered the men not to shoot him. He was Polish. Records tell us that the Polish speaking Sergeant
Streczk, after sharing some choice words with the Polish prisoner who had so stubbornly manned
his gun, and was lucky to survive the encounter, continued to advance towards the top of the bluffs
whilst the wounded were left behind in the care of Private Bowen, the section medic.
For the rest, the advance continued, this time with Sergeant Clarence Colson in
the lead, firing the wounded Private Tilly’s BAR from the hip as he did so. He was amongst
the very first men to reach the summit of the bluffs a few minutes later to find a well made
trench running along the crest with a pillbox firing down on the rest of the section at its far
end. Colson himself recalled what happened next: This pillbox was the one that was holding the
Company up. Now I could use the trench to come right down the back end. Maybe they heard me shoot
the guy in the trench, but they couldn't see me. The pillbox had a door that goes downstairs,
then you have your gunner slots, see. So I got the BAR. It had a bipod on it and I got it set
up right, opened the door and started spraying. All of sudden a white flag came out and I
quit firing. A bunch of Germans came out. I motioned for them to come on up and
they came up. I dont know how many more was dead in there or anything. But it was a
good thing to stop these guys. Without that pillbox, the beach just got a whole lot safer.
Finally, after a gruelling and exhausting assault through the horrors of Omaha beach, there was a
glimmer of hope. Despite the carnage unfolding on either side of them, some men had breached
the enemy line, were on top of the Bluffs, and finally there was a route inland.
Exact records are unclear, but it is likely that shortly after Clarence Colson
silenced that machine gun, men of G Company, 16th Infantry Regiment under Captain Joe Dawson,
who had landed 20 minutes behind Spalding’s group, and also made the ascent, made contact. In a
hurried and discussion, it was decided that Dawson’s group would turn left to assault towards
Coleville-Sur-Mer, whilst Spalding’s would turn right and continue to attack towards WN64.
Over the next few hours they would do exactly that. For both groups, there was still plenty
more fighting to come as they advanced from hedgerow to hedgerow with rifles and grenades,
and more men would pay the ultimate price, but, the seemingly impossible had been
achieved, and Omaha Beach was open. The remarkable accomplishments of Spalding,
Streczk, Dawson, and all those men of the 16th that day were not unique. Further down the
beach other men too had found gaps and little by little those still trapped under the guns of the
WN’s had begun to move and by the end of the day, a small, but vital toehold on this part
of Fortress Europe had been achieved. This photograph, a frozen moment in time from
that infamous day, provides just a little hint at the importance of what exactly those men
had achieved. All across Omaha; at the shingle, by abandoned landing craft and all across the
beach itself, men lay more than 3000 men, dead, dying and wounded. Had it not been for the
actions of those who went above and beyond that day, the toll may have been far, far worse.
For the 32 men of Lieutenant Spalding’s section, perhaps the very first to scale the bluffs, there
had been mixed fortunes. Only two men, Sergeants Ramundo and Bisco would pay with their lives, a
further 8 more would be wounded. And seven men, including Spalding, Streczk, Coulson and the Medic
Bowen, would earn the Distinguished Service Cross. Others still got a marble one. Several of the
section to survive that day would not survive the war, falling in the many bitter battles
to come. Two men that did live, but only to meet with tragedy, were Spalding and Streczk.
The Lieutenant, who had suffered severe battle fatigue later in the war eventually went home to
Kentucky, became a state legislator, re-married and had three more children, living a seemingly
ideal life, but, this powerful newspaper article, which appeared in the Owensboro Enquirer on
6th November 1959 tells of a tragic end to the life of a man who had achieved so much.
Technical Sergeant Streczk, that legendary soldier within the 1st Infantry Division,
would eventually go home to New Jersey, marry and have four children, but the horrors
he witnessed in more than 440 days of combat from North Africa to the Hurtgen Forest would
never leave him. Wracked with PTSD and suffering physical pain from wartime wounds, Philip
Streczyk took his own life in June 1958 and became perhaps the last of so many casualties
suffered on that bloody day on Omaha Beach. Thanks for watching. We hope you found this video
interesting, it was a powerful one for us to make. We want to offer a special thanks to the team at
FindMyPast who sponsored this video. If you’d like to learn more about your own family history
in war or peace, and create your own family tree for free, why not check out the link in the
description. And if you enjoy content like this, be sure to take a look at our video exploring
the fighting through Normandy’s infamous bocage countryside immediately after D-Day. That’s
all this time, we’ll see you again soon.
