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The much photographed house at Bernières was the objective of the Queen’s Own Rifles of Toronto on D-Day. There are two ways to learn about what this famous Canadian Regiment did.

Let us look first at the account in their regimental history.

The official description is certainly accurate, but hardly gripping:

“…The dull roar of far distant bombing could be heard but all was quiet around the assault craft. Thanks to our Navy and Air Force not once was the immense D-Day flotilla really menaced by enemy ships or aircraft. Steadily the L.C.A. forged ahead. Suddenly, at 0725 hrs, with Bernières-sur-Mer just in sight, the air was filled with screaming shells; later, the rockets joined in; a veritable inferno that numbed the senses and shattered coherent thought. To the men bobbing about on the flimsy craft it was tremendously reassuring that this great weight of metal was all going in the right direction…”

For another retelling which is much easier to understand, let us go to the book titled Battle Diary, written by a friend of mine, the late Charlie Martin. Charlie was a Company Sergeant Major with the Queen’s Own. He landed on D-Day and he fought right through until he sustained a wound late in the war when his regiment was in Germany.

Here is how Charlie saw the landing. You will find it somewhat different than that in the official history:

 “…As we moved farther from the mother ship and closer to shore, it came as a shock to realize that the assault fleet was disappearing from view. Suddenly there was just us and an awful lot of ocean, or English Channel if you prefer. All that remained within sight was our own fleet of ten assault craft, moving abreast in the early-morning silence in a gradually extending line facing the shore, the “A” Company boats on the right and the “B” Company boats on the left.

None of us really grasped at that point, spread across such a large beach front, just how thin on the ground we were. Each of the 10 boatloads had become an independent fighting unit.

To both sides of us we had minefields. The machine-gun fire and mortars never let up, a barrage of shelling that seemed to come from everywhere. Once over the railway we had … grass cover, but we ran into heavy barbed wire. So we moved on. We’d made it, done what we were supposed to do…”

The announcement today that the Canadian War Museum has purchased the Victoria Cross and other medals awarded to First World War hero Robert Shankland, has brought to mind the fascinating story of Canada’s first Victoria Cross winner.

He was Alexander Roberts Dunn of York, Upper Canada (today known as Toronto).  It was October 25, 1854.  Confederation was still a long time away, and the Crimean War was the reality of the day.  Dunn was a Lieutenant at the time, and he won the VC for bravery during the famous “Charge of the Light Brigade,” saving the lives of two of his men by outstanding sabre work against attacking Russian Lancers.

He returned to Canada, but later re-enlisted and rapidly advanced to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel, the youngest in the British forces.  In 1868, his 33rd (Duke of Wellington’s) Regiment was part of a 12,000-man expeditionary force sent to Ethiopia to rescue diplomatic hostages being held in a mountain fortress.  The tiny village of Senafe, about 600 kilometres from the southern border of Egypt, proved to be a tragic stopping point for Dunn.  During a pause in the overland march, he took time to hunt for game.  His rifle discharged accidentally while he drank from a stream, a moment of carelessness cutting short a brilliant military career.

Stricken with grief at the loss of a popular officer, his regiment built a small graveyard on the outskirts of the village.  There Dunn’s body was laid to rest, along with the remains of six other men who had died up to that point in the expedition.  Crosses of stone were raised, an inscription cut, and a protective enclosure with an iron gate was put in place.  Then the expedition moved on, eventually obtaining its objective and returning to India.

The years passed with little change except the growth of cypress trees shading the otherwise barren site.  The villagers simply ignored it.  Italian occupying forces left behind inscriptions in 1916 to the effect that they had done some restoration of the original stonework.  Weeds grew up, and the iron gate fell from its hinges.  Goats wandered at will through the enclosure.

In 1974, 106 years after Dunn’s death, Lieutenant-Colonel A.J.K. Rasmussen of Winnipeg learned of the gravesite from a British trade commissioner who had been stationed in Ethiopia.  Photos confirmed the dilapidated condition, and at Rasmussen’s request, investigations were begun by Veterans Affairs in cooperation with the Commonwealth War Graves Commission.  Funds to restore the site were promptly authorized but sporadic military activity in northern Ethiopia prevented the work being undertaken until 1982. 

The surrounding wall was has been restored, the gate replaced, and the grave markers repaired and cleaned.  The site is being checked every other year by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission.

No account of the landings at Juno Beach would be complete without telling of the fabulous work of the reconnaissance troops, carried out by the 7th Canadian Reconnaissance Regiment.  Known as the 17th Duke of York’s Royal Canadian Hussars, they came from Montreal.

The work of recce regiments is difficult to describe, because they are everywhere, probing enemy positions, directing traffic and keeping the assault regiments informed. As the historian of the 7th Reconnaissance Regiment states:

“…To tell the story of a reconnaissance regiment in the Second World War is an extremely difficult proposition, for unlike an infantry battalion or an armoured regiment, it operate(s) with few exceptions as independent squadrons…”

Among the first ashore at Touchdown was the BEACH GROUP composed of personnel from the 7th Recce Regiment.

Describing the work of the BEACH GROUP, the author, Captain Walter Pavey, states:

“…First, they were to land with the assaulting infantry, locate exits where the divisional battle vehicles could pass through the sea walls, barbed wire, mines, etc. and then be responsible to the 3rd Division that all carriers, guns, tanks, … got off the beach…”

The so-called “BIG PICTURE” of the D-Day invasion brings to the mind’s eye a sky full of aircraft, thousands of ships of all descriptions, many carrying the guys who would do the fighting on land, the combat engineers, the tank men and their armoured vehicles, the gunners and the signallers.

Some 30,000 Canadian troops on that morning of June 6, 1944 were heading for a 10 mile stretch of beach in Normandy, code name JUNO.

It is always surprising to learn that the initial touchdown was the responsibility of just four regiments of Canadian infantry with an additional company from another regiment — the North Shore Regiment of New Brunswick on the left at St. Aubin, the Queen’s Own Rifles of Toronto in the centre at Bernières, the Regina Rifles and the Royal Winnipeg Rifles at Courseulles on the right.

Securing the right flank was a company of the Canadian Scottish of Victoria, and on the left flank, a company of the Royal Marine Commandos.  Two tank regiments, the Fort Garry Horse of Winnipeg on the left and the 1st Hussars of London on the right, supported the landing.  Not more than 3,000 young Canadians in the first wave, all ranks.

What kind of troops would the Canadians be facing?  Stephen Ambrose in his epic book, D-Day June 6th 1944, states:

“…Hitler had characterized the Wehrmacht as ‘an army such as the world has never seen.’ The German high command had been particularly successful in placing the various types of men where they best fit, and in selecting those to serve as cannon fodder, who are told to hold out to the last man.  In accordance with Hitler’s Directive Number 40, the Atlantic coast defences should be so organized and troops so deployed that any invasion attempts be smashed before the landing or immediately thereafter…”

Ordinary German troops would man the concrete fortifications along the coastline, supported by heavy machine gun nests and well-placed artillery. This first line of defence would be backed up by elite formations of crack mobile troops, standing just inland from the Atlantic wall.

The strategy was, if the Atlantic wall were breached, these highly mobile Panzer Regiments would throw the Canadians back into the sea.

The Germans had a state-of-the-art communication system.  The troops could answer to an alert in seconds and were highly trained to get to their defensive posts.  The anti-aircraft defences were formidable and interfered not only with the pre-invasion bombing but with the aircraft carrying the paratroopers, charged with the initial strike inland.  German Motor Torpedo boats played havoc with the invasion fleet.

The landed troops were immediately engaged with anti-tank guns. The Germans realized that the day had begun.