Ventura veteran survived Omaha Beach landingBy Jannette Jauregui Courtesy photo "We cursed being sent to this place," Glen Gloyd said of Normandy, France. There is one memory that stands out in Glen Gloyd's mind about the days leading up to the D-Day invasion: the children he and his comrades came to know in Southampton, England.
"We greeted them and then threw coins to them," said the Ventura man. "They really enjoyed having us there, and I think it was more money than they had ever seen." But the children and the coins soon vanished from Gloyd's life, and the good memories of life before war were quickly put aside. At midnight on June 6, 1944, Gloyd boarded a landing craft ship headed across the English Channel and to the beaches of Normandy. He was part of the first wave of attacks on Omaha Beach. It is a day he will not soon forget. Gloyd was drafted into the Army on Feb. 19, 1943, in Kansas City, Kan. He was told that he would have a month to prepare for departure to basic training and a new life as a soldier. On March 19, he was sent to Fort Leavenworth in Kansas before receiving orders to report to Camp Butner, N.C., for basic training attached to the 78th Division. "They assigned me duties on the CBM 94 machine coding and decoding messages," said Gloyd, 82. "Three months later I was doing field maneuvers from North Carolina all the way to Tennessee." Once he completed field maneuvers, Gloyd was assigned duties as a full-time messenger, delivering messages between battalion commanders. "Most of the time I would deliver the messages at night with only the small, white blackout lights on my jeep," said Gloyd. "It made it difficult to see the designated battalion markers on those narrow, country roads." Gloyd often found himself parking the jeep on the side of the road to sleep during trips that were too long to make in one shift. "It was rough in the winter," he said. "I used to keep the jeep running and would climb to the back and make a bed, and then place my feet down by the exhaust pipe to warm them up. Then I would turn the jeep off and do my best to stay warm." After several months of working as a messenger, Gloyd was sent to Fort Pickett, Va., and was placed on standby for orders to go overseas. In late May, Gloyd received his orders and was sent to Massachusetts to prepare for deployment to England. "There was an assembly line each day, and we just waited for them to call our names," he said. "We were all separated and placed into different divisions." Gloyd's name was called on the fourth day, and he boarded the USS Wakefield as a member of Company E, 320th Regiment, 1st Division. "We were on that ship for seven days, eating nothing but Boston baked beans," Gloyd said. "We didn't really know where we were going, but we had an idea when we were told to keep quiet once we got to the North Sea because German submarines were patrolling the area." 'Men were scared and crying' Once the USS Wakefield docked in Liverpool, Gloyd and the rest of the 320th Regiment boarded the famous double-decker red buses and headed to an American Army camp for more training. On June 5, 1944, Gloyd and his regiment received orders to report to Southampton to prepare for combat. "When we got on the LCIs we knew that war was on the other side of that channel," he said. "Men were scared and crying. We cursed being sent to this place, but we didn't oppose those who sent us there." The landing craft ship approached Omaha Beach about 6:30 a.m., on June 6, 1944. The ramp was released and Gloyd stepped into the water and swam to shore. "It was complete chaos when we got there," he said. "There was one point when I looked and saw 12 machine guns with 12 American soldiers draped over them dead. It was hell." 'Welcomed like we were stars' After three days and three nights without sleep, Gloyd made it past the beach. He and those from the 320th Regiment who survived the battle established a command post just south of Caan, France. They held it for two weeks before moving on. "We were shelled constantly," said Gloyd. "Night patrols were tough, but we were able to keep it secure." On one occasion, Gloyd and another soldier entered a house to find a German soldier hiding on the second floor. "He tried to befriend us and asked us not to shoot," said Gloyd. "My buddy just shot one bullet into the air and the soldier surrendered." For the next month, Gloyd and his regiment made their way across the northern end of France. "We were welcomed by the French citizens like we were stars," he said. "They shook our hands and clapped for us as we passed through town." While approaching St. Lo, Gloyd and his fellow soldiers stopped to admire the steeple of a church. It was one of the few buildings still standing in the area. "The next thing I knew I was on the ground, semiconscious, and thought that I was eating gravel," said Gloyd. "I later learned that I had been hit by a land mine and was chewing on pieces of my own teeth." Gloyd was sent to a hospital and treated for shrapnel wounds in his leg, face, arm and throat, as well as powder burns and torn arteries. He spent the next 14 months in several hospitals before becoming well enough to be sent back to the United States. He was discharged from the Army on Aug. 8, 1945, at the Temple, Texas, neurosurgery center. "It was a hard recovery, and there were several times when I almost bled to death from the torn arteries," Gloyd said. "I couldn't speak, and the nurse would write letters for me, and then I would use my left hand to sign a X.' " 'Nightmares are still too hard' After being discharged, Gloyd returned to his home in Kansas City with pieces of shrapnel in his left leg, arm, face and throat. They are memories of war that still live inside of him today. He moved to Oxnard in 1956 after being hired by a paper mill. He then went to work for Vetco in Ventura, where he retired in 1985. "There are plenty of times I have thought about going back to Normandy, but I can never bring myself to do it," said Gloyd. "Sometimes the nightmares are still too hard. I think of all the guys left behind there. I am no hero where they are concerned." — Of War and Life is a twice-monthly column by Jannette Jauregui that tells the stories of Ventura County's veterans. Veterans who want to share their stories can contact her by e-mail at jmjaureg@callutheran.edu or by mail at Jannette Jauregui, c/o Ventura County Star editorial department, P.O. Box 6006, Camarillo, CA 93011. |
