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Reload this Page Franz Gockel at Normany, June 6, 1944
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Von Paulus is Offline
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Default 07-29-2001, 04:54 AM

Franz Gockel
Widerstansnest 62, Omaha Beach, June 6, 1944
726th Infantry Regiment, German 352nd Division
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The alarm call into the bunker woke us from a deep sleep. A comrade stood in the entrance and continued to shout the alarm, to dispel any doubt, and urged us to hurry. We had so often been shaken to our feet by this call in the past weeks that we no longer took the alarms seriously, and some of the men rolled over in their bunks and attempted to sleep. An NCO appeared in the entranceway behind our comrade and brought us to our feet with the words "Guys, this time it's for real. They're coming!"

We sprang to action. With carbines in grasp, we ran to our positions. All weariness evaporated. Machine guns, heavy guns, and mortars were prepared. We stood next to our weapons, ready for action, but the night remained quiet. Soon the first message came from the company. In Sainte-Mère-Eglise, enemy paratroopers had landed. Large numbers of ships had departed southern England and were headed toward Normandy.

Our coastal section remained quiet--nothing moved. Was it once again a false alarm? The minutes slowly ticked by, and we stood at our weapons and shivered in the thin summer uniforms. The cook prepared hot red wine. An NCO appeared and checked our readiness, saying, "When they come don't shoot too soon." Then I was alone at my machine gun.

The silence weighed heavily upon us and the tension continued to build. Soon the sound of bomber squadrons could be detected in the air and faded again in the distance. Like before, they would always fly over our sector. It remained quiet for only a short time and with the morning dawn came more bombers. Dark shadows could be detected on the horizon, and we first believed them to be German patrol craft, but soon the shadows grew and became so numerous that all hope was dispelled. The detectable wake from large and small ships increased in number. More bombers approached the coastline, and at Port-en-Bessin, a few kilometers from us, the first bombs fell.

More bombers approached and I stood behind my heavy machine gun with its sights trained on the sea. Once again I inspected the ammunition belt. I attempted to concentrate on my weapon to take my mind away from the impending events. In the recesses of my gun position stood ignition switches for two flamethrowers which were aimed at the beach and the tank trench.

The bombers were suddenly over us and it was too late to spring into the prepared dugout for cover. I dove under the gun as bombs screamed and hissed into the sand and earth. Two heavy bombs fell on our position, and we held our breath as more explosions fell into the hinterland. Debris and clouds of smoke enveloped us; the earth shook; eyes and nose were filled with dirt, and sand ground between teeth. There was no hope for help. No German aircraft appeared, and this sector had no antiaircraft guns.
  
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