SIXTY SIX YEARS AGO: “”Let Our Hearts Be Stout”

June 4, 2010

On the evening of June 5, 1944, President Franklin D. Roosevelt delivered an address to the nation, telling them that Allied forces had liberated Rome, Italy. Partnered with Great Britain’s Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, Roosevelt had known for more than a year that this liberation of Rome was ONLY the precursor to the Ultimate Battle, all part of what was code named “Operation Overlord”. The date for that day – always known in military strategical planning for all major operations as D-Day, H-Hour, was not finalized until late spring, and was simply identified as being in June, 1944, �- the final date being meteorologically dependent.

As Roosevelt gave his Monday evening, June 5, 1944 report of the liberation of Rome, he knew then that while Americans slept that night, dawn on the shores of Normandy, France would witness the largest amphibious assault in mankind’s history. That beach assault, so momentous that just the landing itself had its own operational name, “Operation Neptune”, scheduled for and executed at 6:30am, was preceded at midnight with 24,000 American, British, Canadian and Free French paratroopers dropping in. Then, 40 minutes and 30 minutes prior to the 6:30am amphibious assault, naval bombardment and aerial bombardment, respectively, softened up the targeted beachhead sectors of Normandy, codenamed, from East to West, Sword, Juno and Gold, (British and Canadian Troops), and Omaha and Utah, (American troops).

By the end of the first day, 160,000 pair of allied boots were on the ground, INCLUDING 57,000 American troops, all via beach landings or paratroop jumps.

When American’s awoke on June 6, 1944, word spread of the invasion which had occurred during the night, and that evening, President Roosevelt gave his second address in 24 hours, which consisted primarily of a prayer, penned in his own handwriting, “Let Our Hearts Be Stout”.

My Fellow Americans:

Last night, when I spoke with you about the fall of Rome, I knew at that moment that troops of the United States and our Allies were crossing the Channel in another and greater operation. It has come to pass with success thus far.

And so, in this poignant hour, I ask you to join with me in prayer:

Almighty God: Our sons, pride of our nation, this day have set upon a mighty endeavor, a struggle to preserve our Republic, our religion, and our civilization, and to set free a suffering humanity.

Lead them straight and true; give strength to their arms, stoutness to their hearts, steadfastness in their faith.

They will need Thy blessings. Their road will be long and hard. For the enemy is strong. He may hurl back our forces. Success may not come with rushing speed, but we shall return again and again; and we know that by Thy grace, and by the righteousness of our cause, our sons will triumph.

They will be sore tried, by night and by day, without rest — until the victory is won. The darkness will be rent by noise and flame. Men’s souls will be shaken with the violences of war.

For these men are lately drawn from the ways of peace. They fight not for the lust of conquest. They fight to end conquest. They fight to liberate. They fight to let justice arise, and tolerance and goodwill among all Thy people. They yearn but for the end of battle, for their return to the haven of home.

Some will never return. Embrace these, Father, and receive them, Thy heroic servants, into Thy kingdom.

And for us at home — fathers, mothers, children, wives, sisters, and brothers of brave men overseas, whose thoughts and prayers are ever with them — help us, Almighty God, to rededicate ourselves in renewed faith in Thee in this hour of great sacrifice.

Many people have urged that I call the nation into a single day of special prayer. But because the road is long and the desire is great, I ask that our people devote themselves in a continuance of prayer. As we rise to each new day, and again when each day is spent, let words of prayer be on our lips, invoking Thy help to our efforts.

Give us strength, too — strength in our daily tasks, to redouble the contributions we make in the physical and the material support of our armed forces.

And let our hearts be stout, to wait out the long travail, to bear sorrows that may come, to impart our courage unto our sons wheresoever they may be.

And, O Lord, give us faith. Give us faith in Thee; faith in our sons; faith in each other; faith in our united crusade. Let not the keeness of our spirit ever be dulled. Let not the impacts of temporary events, of temporal matters of but fleeting moment — let not these deter us in our unconquerable purpose.

With Thy blessing, we shall prevail over the unholy forces of our enemy. Help us to conquer the apostles of greed and racial arrogances. Lead us to the saving of our country, and with our sister nations into a world unity that will spell a sure peace — a peace invulnerable to the schemings of unworthy men. And a peace that will let all of men live in freedom, reaping the just rewards of their honest toil.

Thy will be done, Almighty God.

Amen.

Franklin D. Roosevelt - June 6, 1944

God bless our men and women in uniform, and those who have come before, having worn the uniform protecting our nation and all free nations of the world.� God Bless the United States of America.

Teresa Watson

A HERO’s HERO

May 30, 2010

Two years this past May 23^rd, on a Friday evening, my husband and I were returning home from the retirement party of a friend, GBI Special Agent J.W. (J.P.) Foster. As we walked into the house I could hear the end of the prerecorded message of our answering machine conclude, and the next voice I heard was the voice of my stepmother, my father’s wife of over thirty years.� I could not make out the words, but I knew that a late phone call from Mae, could only mean one thing, and I rushed up the stairs in grief, snatching up the receiver to learn that my first hero had died.

It was Memorial Day weekend, and less than two weeks before the anniversary of a day, indeed a war, my Daddy would never forget.

As I shared in the tribute I wrote about Daddy that weekend, he was my first hero, he was my best hero, and he embodied everything good about the human condition, and more importantly, what is the BEST of the American spirit.

Daddy, Lieutenant Colonel, (Retired) Joseph Elford Watson, Sr., was an original member of the 82^nd Airborne Fighting Red Devils out of Ft. Bragg, North Carolina. Daddy jumped on D-Day at Normandy, or, as anyone who has ever seen ‘Saving Private Ryan” knows, as close to the various target as the pilots delivering their cargos of the 82^nd AND the 101^st, (Ft. Campbell, Kentucky), could get their troops.

Daddy would go on to make a second combat jump in the European Theatre of WWII, and two more combat jumps in the Korean Conflict with the 187^th Airborne. It was in that one of those airborne jumps, nearly mortally wounded, he saved man after man, going back into battle to find wounded soldiers, himself having suffered a gun shot to his wrist, which he tied up with a dirty sock.

Dad’s commanding officer had been killed, and this All Army boxer/enlisted man, who had been through court martial and demoted at one time, for decking an officer, now received a Battlefield Commission.

Later, when he finally collapsed at a make shift triage unit, he was dressed properly and given s hot, which is how he learned he was severely allergic to penicillin…he almost died from the shot, not the extreme blood loss.

After returning to the states from Korea, Daddy, who was a gifted sharp shooter, was assigned to the United States Marksmanship Unit at Ft. Dix, New Jersey, and later transferred as an additional unit was started at Ft. Benning, Georgia, where I grew up.

We did not learn until years later, when my siblings and I were all grown with children of our own, (and in my case, grandchildren), that Daddy had actually been with Military Intelligence. What a perfect cover for Dad and his team mates, traveling all over the world to “Pistol” matches and meeting with heads of state to perform sharp shooting skills.

Towards the end of his career, he taught at the Infantry School’s Special Training for army officers from other countries, and lastly he served two back to back tours in Viet Nam, as an Army liaison to the CIA and the South Vietnamese Regular Army, with the Phoenix Operation.

But this amazing man - not just my hero, but hero to many of the men and women who served with him, and to those who called him friend - had heroes of his own. �In the last couple of years before he died, when his health was declining, my step mother had forethought enough to begin to slowly turn over things of our father’s to us. Among the medals, and Dress Blues, Carlisle Academy papers and awards, I also got Daddy’s books and papers, documents he had written. These books and writings revealed who my Daddy’s heroes were.

On this Memorial Day Eve, just ONE week until the June 6^th D-Day remembrance, I would like to share with you a paper my Daddy wrote at Troy State University, about his D-Day Commanding Officer, Lieutenant Robert M. Mathias, who was wounded by flack as he stood in the doorway about to lead his men of the 2^nd� Platoon, Company E, 508^th Parachute Infantry from Camp Mackall, North Carolina, in their first ever combat jump.

In his own words, now, my father’s remembrance of Lt. Mathias:

AN OUTSTANDING LEADER

By Lt. Col. Ret Joseph E. Watson

It was June 7,1944, the day after our parachute drop into Normandy, when I first learned of Lieutenant Robert M. Mathias’ death. I was stricken with grief and a great sense of personal loss came over me. It had occurred to me that some of my buddies and I might not make it, BUT NOT Lieutenant Mathias. I was not prepared for the loss of one whom we all thought was indestructible. In addition to being my leader, in whom I had complete trust, he was my friend and like an older, wiser brother.

Bob’s reddish blonde hair and freckled face, together with his boyish, rugged good looks, gave the impression that he was younger, perhaps 22 or 23, than his actual age of 27.� Bob Mathias, approximately six feet and one inch tall, weighed about 170-175 pounds, had large broad shoulders and was in super physical condition. Bob was not a “Charles Atlas” or a “Flash Gordon” type. His bone and muscle wear all utility rather than show.

Because of his physical powers, many failed to recognize that Bob was highly intelligent. He had mastered every weapon and skill involved in the employment of a rifle company. Additionally, he was knowledgeable of the functions, capabilities and limitation of the supporting arms services.� He was a student of the order of the battle of the German Army and of their tactics. He excelled and schooled� his platoon well in the intricacies of reconnaissance and combat patrolling.

Bob was dedicated to the task of bringing his platoon to a state of training and physical endurance that would enable us to meet and defeat the best the German Army could send against us. Consequently, life in the 2^nd Platoon was not always easy. In training of any type, he always required more of his platoon than was expected of others.� He led, cajoled and drove us to meet his standards, but he drove himself more. He made allowances, but never compromised his standards. He seemed deeply hurt on the few occasions the platoon failed him or failed to meet his expectations. I never knew him to lose his temper; I never knew him to utter a profane word.

When a member of his platoon was troubled by a personal problem, he seemed to sense it. He would discreetly offer his counsel, but he never intruded. From time to time, troopers from other platoons sought him out for counsel or advice. I’m sure the chaplains, had they known, would have appreciated his efforts in their stead.

I always believed Bob to be a man of deep religious convictions, although he never tried to alter the religious orientation of his men. I never knew any officer who was more concerned where the physical and emotional well-being and moral values of his men were involved. On the other hand, Lt. Mathias instilled in his men the will to “deal close and destroy the enemy” by any means available. A deep commitment to God and country is required to resolve in one’s self these conflicting philosophies.

My last recollection of Bob was as we shook hands and wished each other a safe flight and parachute drop. As I turned to my assigned aircraft, Bob said to me, “Get one for Mrs. Smith”. (Smith was the surname of my late stepfather).

I never saw Bob again.

One of the men who jumped from Bob’s plane, gave this account:

“Lt. Mathias was wounded while standing in the door awaiting the green light, by a shell that burst outside the aircraft. When the green light came on, Lt. Mathias half turned to face the stick. You could see the blood on his chest. He raised his right arm in a “Follow Me” gesture, and exited the door”.

How prophetic were the words of Colonel Roy E. Lindquist, (Now Major General Retired), when he remarked, “Lt. Mathias will earn the Medal of Honor or become our first killed in action”.

Why not the Medal of Honor?

When Bob was wounded, he had enough strength and presence of mind to remain in the door until the green light came on. Obviously he was not mortally wounded, albeit seriously. If he had remained aboard the aircraft, the Crew Chief could possibly have rendered first-aid and possibly saved his life. On the ground seriously wounded, not much chance for survival existed. The options were Bob’s and he knew the consequences. He chose the one “above and beyond the call of duty”.

He chose to lead his platoon into combat.

Lt. Col. Retired Joseph E. Watson

Happy Memorial Day, and GOD BLESS AMERICA

Teresa Watson