D-Day saved Europe 80 years ago. Oregonians were there

Published 5:00 am Wednesday, June 5, 2024

June 6 marks the 80th anniversary of D-Day, the most pivotal battle of World War II. Although best remembered as the largest seaborne land assault of all time, the operation actually began with months of planning, followed by a series of allied aerial landings in France the night before – June 5, 1944 – to assist the landings along the five beaches of Normandy. The stakes could not have been higher. If the allies failed, Germany would continue to control most of Europe for years to come. Many soldiers, sailors and airmen with Oregon connections were among those who risked their lives for their country on June 5 and 6. Three were among those who lived to tell their D-Day stories.

William “Bill” Houze flew U.S. Army parachutists behind enemy lines as a pilot with the 316th Troop Carrier Group. He and his plane survived unexpected German ground fire and bad weather to bring them as close to their landing zones as possible. After making it back to his airbase in England, Houze flew return missions in the following days to resupply the invasion force.

Donald Malarkey was one of those who jumped into France as a member of Easy Company of the 506 Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division. He was awarded a Bronze Star for valor on D-Day for helping to neutralize German artillery guns that were firing on the Utah Beach landing.

Cal Redfern’s piloted an unpowered US Army glider that was towed by a propeller plane across the English Channel. After the tow line was released, Redfern landed his “Flying Coffin” undamaged in a French pasture to deliver two soldiers and their Jeep behind the German defenses, then walked back to the channel to catch a ride to his airbase. He flew more glider missions to help keep the offensive going in the following days.

The success of D-Day was not guaranteed. Far from it. Luck frequently prevailed over planning undermined by the weather and conditions on the ground. And many sacrifices were made by the allied soldiers who overcame heavy German resistance to scramble off the beaches and penetrate the enemy lines. Those are among the reasons D-Day is still so honored.

The Dire Situation in Europe

Perhaps no single event of World War II arouses more emotion than does D-Day, the amphibious invasion of Western Europe along the 5 beaches of Normandy, France. And for good reason. D-Day in Europe stands as one of the most important dates in history.

In describing D-Day, British Prime Minister Winston S. Churchill stated that it was “The most difficult and complicated operation ever to take place.”

Along with its scale, being the largest seaborne land assault of all time, D-Day is arguably the most daring and most dramatic military operation ever attempted. Its drama is due in large part to the urgent need for it to succeed. As none other than Adolph Hitler put it, “The destruction of the enemy’s (ie, Allies’) landing is the sole decisive factor in the conduct of the war and hence in its final results.” (Emphasis added.)

In mid-1944, forces of Nazi Germany controlled all of Western Europe save the “neutral” nations of Switzerland, Sweden, Spain and Portugal. The Nazis occupied Norway and were aligned with Finland. All of Eastern Europe and a great portion of the Soviet Union were under their control.

The Soviets had defeated the Nazis at Stalingrad and were steadily pushing them westward, out of Russia. Joseph Stalin, Franklin Roosevelt and Winston Churchill had agreed that Britain and the US would invade Europe from bases in England, thus establishing a Western, ie, second front. This would force the Germans to defend in two directions, thus relieving pressure on the Soviet forces and (hopefully) ensuring “total victory” for the Allies. An Italian front, by an invasion through Sicily, had already been established.

Had the amphibious landings on Norman beaches failed to gain the Allies a foothold on the continent of Europe, the Nazis may well have prevailed. By this it is meant that with no enemy facing it in Western Europe, Germany would be able to contend only with the Soviet Union in the east and thus concentrate its forces. Accordingly, it would have achieved its objective: a manageable single-front war.

Of course the Soviet army was certainly a formidable foe and the Manhattan Project (the development of an atomic bomb) was well underway in the United States. These are not insignificant factors. But in June, 1944, atomic weapons were not yet in the Allies’ arsenal, nor was it a certainty that they ever would be. Accordingly, an overall German victory in Europe was entirely possible.

In short, had D-Day failed, the Germans might have controlled all of Europe for an indefinite period of time. The consequences of this are huge; certainly the Nazi’s plan to eliminate all those individuals that they considered “undesirable” and “sub-human” would have proceeded without interruption. Eventually the killing would have ceased: there would be no more victims to eliminate.

D minus 1 and D-Day

The Allied military buildup in England was no secret; the Germans well knew that an invasion of the continent was coming. But thanks to a clever masking of the invasion site, the Germans were forced to deploy their coastal defenses thin so as to “cover all bases” along the coasts of France, Belgium and Holland. Even the coastline of Norway had been fortified.

The Allies played up the obvious invasion site, the Pas de Calais, the shortest distance across the English Channel, by creating a fictitious army under the “command” of legendary U.S. Lt. Gen. George Patton. Inflatable replicas of trucks, tanks and aircraft were “parked” in English fields in Kent for German reconnaissance aircraft to photograph. In the meantime, the real assault was planned for Normandy.

The designation “D-Day” meant nothing, really. The “D” stood simply for “day” as a reference point. Thus for example, two days prior to the Day of the invasion was designated “D minus 2”, two days afterward, “D plus 2” and so on. It did not stand for “dispatch day” or “deliverance day” as some have asserted. However, due to the unpredictable weather, overall commander of Operation Overlord, U.S. Gen. Dwight Eisenhower may have thought of it as “Doom Day.” In this regard, the original date of June 5 was moved back 24 hours to the 6th to accommodate what was felt to be a “break” in the stormy weather over the Channel. Ike’s decision to “go” on the 6th was in many ways a leap of faith. He was so unsettled about his command that he drafted a document taking full responsibility for the landings’ failure.

There were five main landing beaches along the Normandy coastline. From Northwest to Southeast, they were: Utah and Omaha (American), Gold (British), Juneau (Canadian) and Sword (British).

D-Day planning involved launching airborne assaults during the night before the seaborne landings took place. It was imperative that key points inland from the beaches be taken or neutralized so as to hamper German troop movements toward the coast, thus helping to ensure the overall success of the forces coming ashore. Before midnight on June 5, British airborne units landed behind Sword beach near Ranville and secured strategic crossroads and bridges (including the legendary, spectacular nighttime glider landings by the British 6th AB Division near Pegasus Bridge over the Caen Canal).

Behind Utah and Omaha Beaches, the US 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions parachuted from low-flying transports into pitch darkness. Although the plan was to jump into areas that had been pre-marked by lights set up by pathfinders, the aircraft became scattered and, facing intense anti-aircraft ground fire, many troopers were forced to jump either too early or too late. Hardly any of the Americans landed in pre-designated areas. And, jumping into the fierce propeller blast of the transports, many men lost valuable gear. But the miscues actually caused confusion among the German defenders — the airborne troops were scattered everywhere and yet they were nowhere– a German “counterattack” in any set direction was impossible to organize.

In brief, the early-morning American landing at Utah Beach met with limited resistance due in part to the fact that it missed its mark. At Omaha, the matter was in doubt until late afternoon when courageous units broke through strong German defenses that fired down upon them from high bluffs. The British and Canadian beaches likewise were secured by late afternoon despite a bitter disappointment when it was realized that the 8th Air Force bombers had missed the beaches entirely. The goal had been to create craters in the sand by dropping ordnance along the beaches. These were intended to offer cover for landing troops. Instead, due to miscalculation and some say a heavy ground fog, the bombs fell several miles inland.

William “Bill” Houze, 316th Troop Carrier Group

World War II was the first conflict where air operations played a decisive role. The modern aircraft of the time flew in all theaters of conflict and performed endless types of services. They not only bombed and strafed but they also acted as airborne scouts, decoys, target towing drones. Perhaps most crucially, they transported thousands of personnel and millions of tons of materiel.

The United States relied principally upon three transport aircraft: the Curtiss C-46 Commando, the Douglas C-54 Skymaster and the Douglas C-47 Skytrain (British designation: Dakota). All three were reliable workhorses whose flying service extended long into the post-war era. Many are still flying today in commercial and military roles.

The German Blitzkrieg of 1940 that swept across Western Europe successfully utilized airborne troops to capture key objectives. US military commanders realized America needed such a capability. Thus, multiple airborne divisions were formed. And the best way to get these young paratroopers to their drop zones was already in the American arsenal: the C-46 and C-47.

In the case of Operation Overlord, two American airborne divisions got the nod: the 82nd and the 101st. It was to be a nighttime operation.

William “Bill” Houze was an aircraft commander who flew with the 316th Troop Carrier Group, a part of the 9th Air Force. Due to their role as transports, these aircraft entered combat unarmed. The enemy considered these low-flying, relatively slow aircraft to be prime targets. The result was that air transport units suffered very heavy losses.

The parachute drops of airborne forces over Normandy occurred before midnight on June 5, 1944. This meant that the transports had to find their way at night, partially over water. Navigation was accomplished by indicated airspeed, compass heading, altimeter and chronometer. There would be no visual landmarks to show the way over blacked-out France.

The aircrews had to know their flight times and headings by heart. Repetitive practice missions using the same time and distance of the upcoming mission were flown, though the compass headings used on D-Day were obviously different.

On the night of June 5, the old adage about combat held true: even a great plan remains in place only until the first shot is fired. Over Normandy, the 316th’s Drop Zones (DZs) were near the city of Ste Mere Eglise. However, Houze and the other C-47s of his group faced unexpected challenges. The DZs were to be visually marked by lights that had been set up by troops who’d already been parachuted into the area and presumably had located the paratroopers’ objectives. But for various reasons, most of the markers were either not illuminated (one pathfinder found himself hiding amongst German troops) or were out of position. Also, the pilots discovered that ground haze and low clouds made it nearly impossible to spot the lights, if they were indeed there, through their narrow windscreens. Lastly, the Germans were not asleep. Moderate to heavy anti-aircraft and small arms fire rose up to challenge the transports, disrupting their flight paths.

The paratroopers aboard each C-47 heard the ground fire and anxiously watched for the red light near the exit door to flash on. When it did, the drop area was presumed to be near. They arose, hooked their static lines to a cable running overhead the length of the cabin and performed an equipment check of the man in line ahead of him. If all went according to plan, a green light flashed and they all headed out the door, one after another.

But rarely did the green light flash on at the correct time and place. As noted, the C-47s were usually out of position. Obscured vision, aircraft damage and elapsing time forced the transport pilots to guess where they were, but the paratroopers still had to jump. So on came the green indicator lights. Thus, the men of the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions parachuted down to areas that were sometimes even off the area maps they carried. Occasionally, men of the two divisions found themselves thrown together and started the fight as a mixed unit.

But somehow it all worked. Innovation and adaptation employed by the scattered airborne troops resulted in most pre-invasion missions being accomplished. In the 5-hour flight to Normandy and back, Bill Houze’s “stick” (planeload) of 82nd Airborne successfully exited his aircraft. It is only a guess as to where they landed, though it was near their objective: the town of Ste Mere Eglise. No damage to his C-47 was noted and he went on the next day to fly over Normandy again, this time to resupply the forces.

Houze’s future combat missions included glider tows to Holland during Market-Garden on September 18 and 23 as well as a resupply flight on the 26th that involved an actual landing on Dutch soil near Grave. In all cases, enemy fire was either realized or was a great potential. His final combat missions were in March, 1945 during the famous “Across the Rhine” operation that allowed Allied forces to skip over the massive river, thus avoiding the necessity of crossing over a bridge.

Donald Malarkey, Astoria’s own hero

One of those who jumped out of a transport plane on June 5, 1942, was Donald Malarkey from Astoria, Oregon. When the Japanese attacked the United States at Pearl Harbor, he was in his first year at University of Oregon. When told of the attack by a fraternity brother, he was embarrassed to admit he’d never heard of Pearl Harbor despite his personal assessment of himself as being geographically informed.

Along with nearly every other young man did at the time, Malarkey immediately tried to enlist. As an aggressive sort, he lined up to join the Marines. But he was turned down because of dental issues. Next best on the “toughness” scale was the Airborne, and he became a member of Easy Company of the 506 Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division.

Malarkey trained at Toccoa, Georgia, earned his jump wings, and was deployed to England as part of the Allied invasion force. Once during an inspection following a demonstration jump for VIPs, General Eisenhower stopped in front of Malarkey to ask him about his mission and his training. Learning that he was from Oregon, Ike inquired about the score of last year’s Oregon/Oregon State game. The general then introduced Malarkey to the portly man standing next to him, Prime Minister Winston Churchill. Winnie carried on the conversation by asking if he liked being in Britain and how he filled his spare time. Malarkey responded honestly that as a “history nut” he’d toured as much of Britain as he could.

Late on the night of June 5, 1944, Malarkey participated in the legendary parachute jump behind German lines in Normandy. Malarkey was awarded a Bronze Star for his valor on D-Day in helping to neutralize German artillery guns that were firing on Utah Beach from positions at Braecourt Manor. During the assault he brazenly ran into the field of fire to try to retrieve an item from the body of a German soldier. He thought it was a Luger pistol, a prized souvenir, but it turned out to be some sort of horn. The enemy oddly held its fire until Malarkey, realizing his folly, jumped up and ran zig-zagging back to safety. When asked why he’d done such a foolhardy thing, Don frankly admitted, “I have no G-damned idea.”

Malarkey went on to fight in Normandy, retrained in Britain, jumped again into Holland (Operation Market-Garden), defended Bastogne Belgium during the wintery Battle of the Bulge and then entered Germany itself. As his commanding officer, Major Richard Winters put it, Malarkey was one of a handful of soldiers that he (Winters) could absolutely count on to perform the most dangerous, distasteful duties when asked to do so.

After the war, Malarkey earned his business degree from Oregon, married Irene, the love of his life, raised four children, then ran for and was elected to the Clackamas County Commission. He also wrote a book about his combat experiences, “Easy Company Soldier.” Many of them made it into “Band of Brothers,” the acclaimed 10-part HBO series produced by Stephen Spielberg. When asked how accurate it was, Malarkey responded, “Pretty well done, not too ‘Hollywoodized.’”

Cal Redfern, from CCC to Normandy

Redfern was born in Oregon in 1917. As a teen, he lied about his age in order to join the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps). The training and discipline of this Depression-era public works organization taught him both leadership and hard work skills. So much so that he was personally commended in writing by the commander of Fort Vancouver Barracks, Brig. Gen. George C. Marshall who later became Chief of Staff under President Franklin Roosevelt. He also served as U.S. Secretary of State and was the author of the Marshall Plan.

At the outset of WWII, Redfern entered the USAAF as a warrant officer, an in-between rank that allowed him not only to pilot a glider but also allowed him admittance to both the NCO and Officer’s Clubs. He wore silver wings that were identical to those of powered aircraft pilots except that they bore a “G” in the center of the shield.

It was hazardous duty. The CG-4 Waco glider was nicknamed “Flying Coffins,” partly because of the danger in riding in one and partly because some gliders were manufactured in St. Louis by a casket maker and yet others by a furniture company. Once on the ground the glider, if undamaged, could later be returned to its base to fly again. However, due to the hazards of combat landings, most Wacos were totaled. They were then broken up either by troops or local farmers and their wood frames and canvas skins used for other purposes.

Wacos might be loaded with any sort of cargo given the mission: fully-equipped troops, materiel (including ammunition and explosives), a 37-mm anti-tank gun. In the case of Redfern’s D-Day landing, a Jeep complete with an 82nd Airborne officer and his sergeant aboard. The pair was not seat-belted; they hoped for the best when the glider touched down.

Once on the ground the glider, if undamaged, could later be returned to its base to fly again. However, due to the hazards of combat landings, most Wacos were totaled. They were then broken up either by troops or local farmers and their wood frames and canvas skins used for other purposes.

On D-Day, Redfern’s glider was towed over the English Channel by a C-47 Dakota transport. When the tow line was released, he had to visually pick out a suitable patch on which to land. No particular field had been preassigned them. Redfern and his co-pilot lucked out. No enemy ground fire was encountered. Their chosen field was perfect and the Waco skidded to a halt without incident. The entire nose section of the glider lifted up and the Jeep, along with its two-man crew, drove off straight into battle. Redfern never learned the names of the two men nor did he ever see them again.

Orders were for Redfern and his mate to make their way back to “friendly lines” wherever that might be. The pair had no idea where to go (except to head north) or what dangers they might face along the way. If successful, they would join up with friendly forces that had come ashore on Utah Beach. After that, they were to somehow make it back across the English Channel to England to prepare for another air drop if such an operation was to be undertaken.

After the Waco unloaded, Cal started his trek north. Along the way, he met a young paratrooper of the 82nd AB who had lost his M-1 Garand rifle during his own parachute drop (not an uncommon event). Redfern gladly gave him his own M-1.

Ever the tourist, Redfern had packed a camera in his kit which allowed him to take one-of-a-kind shots along his route. His pictures included one of the famous church at Ste Mere-Eglise, complete with 82nd AB trooper John Steele’s white parachute canopy still draping from its steeple.

Redfern made it back to Utah Beach where he managed to secure passage back to England. Upon arrival at his home base, he was challenged by the supply sergeant who sought to charge him for “losing” his M-1. Redfern bluntly told the sergeant to go to hell. That night he slept in his own cot. Not a bad day after all. But there would be more combat landings to be made before the war in Europe ended: Market-Garden and the Rhineland.

Post D-Day

The story of the liberation of Western Europe that was triggered by the D-Day landings is nothing less than the defeat of the forces of a totalitarian regime and the restoration of freedom to the peoples of occupied nations.

After June 6, 1944, American armies pushed forward into Normandy and northern Brittany. Progress was hampered by the German defenses put up behind high, nearly impenetrable hedgerows that were comprised of stones that had been cleared to create farmers’ fields and centuries growth of towering, thick foliage. The British forces, under the command of General Bernard Montgomery, were slated to capture the major city of Caen on D-Day itself. Though Caen is a short distance inland from Sword Beach, it took the Brits weeks to secure it. In the process, Caen was leveled, a sore point between France and Britain to this day.

Briefly stated, the pressure from the delays in advancement in Normandy came to a head in July when Operation Cobra was launched. It amounted to a pivot eastward of American forces near the city of St. Lo and a coordinated breakout of the British armies from around Caen. Together they followed a massive carpet-bombing of French countryside provided by nearly every combat aircraft that could make the trip from Britain. The resultant hole in the German front lines allowed Allied forces to pour through and begin the now-famous cross-country dash across northern France. It was during this dash, where daily gains were measured in miles, not hard-fought yards, that colorful US General George S. Patton gained his remarkable reputation.

Thousands of German troops were captured as British and US forces closed a salient in the lines at Falaise, France. Though much fighting still remained to defeat the Nazis, the battle of Normandy was at an end. In August, the Allies would march triumphantly into Paris.

On the 80th anniversary of the D-Day invasion, its massive importance has not been forgotten. Ceremonies are still held in all the Allied countries, and especially on the beaches of Normandy, to remember those who risked and lost their lives to liberate Europe. They include Wiliam “Bill” Houze, Don Malarkey and Cal Redfern.

This story is one in a series on the 80th anniversaries of significant events in WWII featuring Oregonians by Portland author and historian Don Bourgeois. Others include: Portland witnesses to Infamy; WWII comes to the gridiron; Internment remembered on 80th anniversary; Remembering the Doolittle Raid on Tokyo; Remembering the Battle of Midway; The Summer of ’42: Oregon under attack; Lawyer John Schwabe: Battle of Guadalcanal hero; Europe-First WWII plan sent Oregonians to defend Britain; WWII holidays on the homefront; The Oregonian who changed history: the downing of Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto; Norm Harrison tells long-secret World War II story; the related Weaponized Chinese balloon not new, Oregon attacked by Japan in WWII; “Black Thursday” 1943: Two Oregonians survived botched WWII air strike; and 80 years ago: Portland WWII hero fought in “Marine Corps toughest battle”; Lake Oswego resident Jeanette Goodrum was a WASP at war; and Portland’s Tuskegee Airmen heroes.