The German 352nd and Life's Coincidences

It is well to point out now that the terrain we landed in was not, in essence, strange to us.  During our training in England we were privileged to do mock landings at Slatpton Sands, a beach not much different than Easy Red at Omaha Beach.  The only difference was that now we were being shot at with real bullets, mortars, etc - someone was trying to kill us.

One thing that must be stated here is that our intelligence did not know the location of the German 352nd Infantry Division, and we soon discovered that they were well-entrenched above us back behind the entire length of Omaha Beach.  This unit was made up of the well-trained troops from the North African campaign.  They were well disciplined soldiers, but too, made mistakes. 

Perhaps if we had known all of these things prior to our landing we would have said, "A landing here is impossible."  But then again you must realize that we were backed up by the bombers who hit these beaches the night before the landing.  Now that I look back, I must commend the Navy for blowing away some of the cliff fortifications and also some of the camouflaged resort buildings on the beach itself.  It was encouraging to watch the rocket ships operating behind us, saturating certain particular areas to clear a way for us.  Fighter planes were not in use along the beach that day but we were busy inland, softening up the enemy by strafing their columns, etc. 
 (Dal Estes- Tracks Across Europe)

I've had some "wow" moments in my life, but one of the most memorable ones happened 10 years ago in late May, 2004.  I was at a birthday party in San Diego, CA for a friend of mine and was discussing an upcoming trip I had planned with my Mom, Betty.  It was a lifetime dream of Mom's to see Alaska, so along with two of my sisters, some cousins and some friends - we had a trip in the works for the beginning of June.

My friend's Dad, Karl, overheard me discussing the trip and said "is your Dad going to Alaska too?" I explained that my Dad was heading to Normandy for the 60th Anniversary of D-Day, so wasn't going to be able to go.  Karl then crinkled his nose and somewhat sternly said,  "bah - that's ancient history." Perplexed at his reaction, I replied to him that yes, 60 years was a long time but my Dad had fought in the war and landed Omaha, so the trip had special meaning for him.  "I was there" Karl shared, in a quiet yet matter-of-fact way.  Having been friends with his daughter for several years, and having been with Karl several times, I was surprised ...I didn't know he had been in the military.

He then got a far away look in his eyes and said "I looked out early that morning and all was calm. Then two hours later I looked out - saw the armada coming towards us and knew our world was coming to an end."  With my jaw on the counter I realized that Karl wasn't part of the invading force, he was on the opposite side of the war AND the beach that day.

The radio journalist in me kicked in, and I had an overwhelming desire to ask a million questions.   I didn't though as I quickly realized a conversation with him would be vastly different than any I had with my own Dad, for many reasons.  Karl was German to the core - kept things very tight to his chest, didn't suffer fools, and was proud and stubborn without apology.  Also, I could tell by looking at him that he was conflicted in telling me.  Showing restraint, I asked what beach he was on during the invasion. He curtly responded "I told you, I was THERE....on Omaha."  I only thought he meant he fought D-Day, not that he was actually at the SAME beach.  It sunk in quickly that  not only was he on the opposite side, he was on the very beach my Dad landed on.  In reality he could have been shooting at my Dad, and my Dad at him.

If I would have responded at that moment, I'm pretty sure my reaction would have been, "holy sh**". but I was quiet for a few seconds and then said, "What unit were you in?"  His eyes lit up a bit when he responded "the 352nd." He then added, "We were disbanded in the summer of 1944, but were reorganized and fought the Battle of the Bulge."  My restraint had gone to the wind and I DID respond, "Holy sh**! My Dad fought the Battle of the Bulge too!"  Karl grinned and said, "Well, he and I were both lucky to make it out alive, weren't we?"

I would have called home that night, but Illinois was two hours ahead and I didn't want to wake up my parents.  At first light the next morning I called Dad and said, "You aren't going to believe this, my friend's Dad fought in the German army on Omaha beach and THEN the Battle of the Bulge!"  My Dad quickly asked, "Was he in the 352nd?"  I retold the story from the night before and my Dad said, "They were tough as hell."  I then asked Dad if he would like to meet Karl.  I will never forget Dad's response.  He said, "I would meet him, and I would shake his hand.  We were just doing what we were told to do."

Right after that experience, I had this grand plan to do a documentary called "Daughters of D-Day." My creative vision was to show my friend and me walking on the beach in San Diego.  Two women that really, statistically speaking - should never have been born.  I wanted to shoot it in Del Mar, CA - where the beach is one of the most beautiful in the country.  The scene I rehearsed in my mind a million times was of our Dads -  these two, elderly men meeting at the edge of the water and shaking hands. History reconciled, decades later.  Can you imagine the perspective that one would have given the other?

I never made that documentary because life and reality got in the way.  I couldn't get everyone's schedule together, I wasn't sure where to begin.  Additionally,  I convinced myself that because I knew NOTHING about making a documentary, it was a dumb idea.  I let perfect be the enemy of good.

Although Dad passed away in 2005, Karl is still going strong, living in California.  He emigrated to the US decades ago, raised a family here and is a good and decent man.   These two former military foes -- were at the core very similar men.  They each did what they were asked by their countries, they both survived two of the toughest battles of the war and they loved their families above all else.   If they were to meet in Normandy for this, the 70th Anniversary, I have no doubt my Dad would extend a hand and pat him on the back.  As General MacArthur said "The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war."


The German 352nd:

Next Blog Up:  Crossing the Channel in 1944 and 2014.