On this fateful day my uncle, who was a veteran of the famous US Army First Infantry Division, joined forces with thousands of others and began a dawn attack on Hitler's "Atlantic Wall." This assault, along with efforts that began in other areas on the Normandy coast throughout the same day, eventually led to the liberation of Nazi-held France and the total defeat of the German war machine in Europe.

My uncle spent his war in a mortar platoon of Company H, a heavy weapons unit assigned to the 18th Regiment of the First Infantry Division during World War II. Men in mortar sections lugged awkward tri-pod base plates, cumbersome bore barrels and heavy 81 or 60-mm. mortars into combat and then quickly assembled these pieces into one unit that looked something like a small cannon. Their usual assignments were to provide close support fire for the company’s advancing machine gunners. Their mortars were not easy to fire, but they could be deadly effective. It was not unusual to fire hundreds of rounds during intense actions.

During World War II, the famous First Infantry Division my uncle fought in was comprised of three regiments - the 16th, the 18th and the 26th. Each regiment had three battalions that were made up of four companies. A company had approximately 200 men at full strength. The entire Division usually had 15,000 or more soldiers allocated to it. But casualties were so large in the "Fighting First" during each campaign that it most often advanced against the enemy at far less than its full strength.

On D-day in France, Pfc. Baummer was just twenty-three years old and already a hardened veteran of the highly acclaimed North African and Sicilian campaigns of the Second World War. Normandy was actually his third D-Day. He had volunteered to join the Army in December of 1940 at age nineteen, a full year ahead of the Pearl Harbor bombings and declaration of war. Following basic training with the entire First Division at Fort Devens, Massachusetts and at bases in Virginia, Florida and Georgia, he was given orders in the late summer of 1942 to proceed to New York Harbor. Here, he boarded the British ship "HMS 250" and prepared for an immediate departure to Europe. "HMS 250" was the wartime designation for the biggest and fastest ship available for troop transport during the war. In peacetime, she was the luxury liner Queen Mary.

On August 2nd of 1942, the big ship steamed through New York Harbor before heading out onto the Atlantic Ocean. Five days later, the Queen Mary arrived in Gourock, Scotland. From this port of debarkation, the Division moved by train to Tidworth Barracks in the south of England, some fifty miles southwest of London where training continued for several weeks while the soldiers awaited their first orders to go into battle.

Those orders came after a five-day amphibious transit from England on November 8, 1942 when US forces landed on North African soil inside the Mediterranean. After the initial landings in the port towns of Oran and Arzew in Algeria, Pfc. Baummer participated in 115 days of battle that made the First Infantry Division newsreel heroes back home. The Division's march across the continent helped force Field Marshall Erwin Rommel, the "Desert Fox," to retreat with his German army back to Europe. During action against their infantry in April of 1943, Pfc. Baummer’s platoon covered a powerful enemy counterattack with 1,200 rounds of mortar fire. This barrage contributed to one of the first awardings of a Presidential Distinguished Unit Citation in the war for "unexcelled courage and prowess in arms against a superior enemy force." During these horrific actions, "conspicuous aggressiveness, valor, extraordinary heroism and profound devotion to duty" on the part of his battalion drove the elite German Barenthin regiment off a dominating hill that was blocking the final push for victory in North Africa.

When the Allies invaded Sicily on July 9, 1943, Pfc. Baummer was in one of the first reserve units to land on the beaches. Here, the 18th infantry and the entire First Division faced overwhelming adversity that was in many ways worse than D-Day in Normandy. A powerful German division, the Herman Goering, launched a brutal counterstrike that lasted two days and came very close to throwing the invaders back into the sea. The enemy's attack, as described by a post war historian, "was repulsed by one of the finest exhibitions of discipline and courage in the Division's history."

Sicily proved to be a very exhaustive campaign for the 18th Infantry, but after a steady, fatiguing month-long march up the center of the island, the entire Division converged on the key city of Troina and played a major role in pushing the Germans back to mainland Europe.

After this bitter battle ended, the 1st Division and its commanding general, the colorful Terry Allen, were featured on the cover and in a full-length article in the August 9, 1943 issue of Time magazine. It noted that upon its commander and the Division "there had fallen a special mark in war and history. These inseparable reputations - the reputation of the 1st Division and its commander - are the first to be made and publicly recognized in the US Army of Word War II." Shortly after this article appeared, the Fighting First was ordered back to England, thus becoming the first battle-hardened unit to be shifted from the Mediterranean to prepare for the monumental event then in its advancing stages of buildup - the Invasion of Normandy and the liberation of Europe from Nazi Germany.

Approaching the site of their historic landings nearly fifty years later, I was at first confused about the absence of signs or directions to the monuments and cemeteries I wanted to photograph. However, I eventually found my way to the beach area where D-Day began after passing several old, stone Norman farmhouses and then turning down a narrow road that was shaded by ancient hedgerows.

Omaha Beach may now be a summer community for the more affluent French, but I could still feel the presence of those heroes of June 6th of 1944 as I drove closer to the English Channel. I first spotted a large, rusting landing craft settled in the sand some twenty-feet from the water's edge. This personnel transport delivered the first wave of soldiers to the beach from the larger ships that had lain twelve miles offshore, away from the massive German cannons that fired upon the incoming troops that day - the same day the Liberty Bell rang out back home in Philadelphia for the first time in over one hundred years. As I studied this simple, but powerful reminder of that important day, children were crawling all over it, frolicking and playing, their laughter oblivious to the events proceeding their lifetimes.

As I drove along the waterfront, I eventually approached a bend in the road that veered away from the beach where I suddenly caught my first glimpse of a large, pyramid-like monument that I had been looking for. This solemn edifice stood on a massive granite base in a park-like setting, alone in triangular grassland. I parked my car and walked towards the monument, my heart racing as I saw the emblem of the 1st Infantry Division inscribed in the stone. The motto of the division was engraved in the structure beside this. It read:

"No mission too difficult, No sacrifice too great, Duty first."

4,325 1st Division soldiers were killed in the line of duty during World War II. Another 1,241 were reported missing in action, never found and presumed dead. 15,457 more had been wounded seriously enough at some point to be removed from the battlefields. Except for some soldiers who transferred out of the Division, just twenty-two riflemen who scrambled ashore in North Africa survived to see the war's end without being wounded or killed in action. The enormity of their sacrifices overwhelmed me as I walked around to the front of the monument, where I stood before a large, raised-letter inscription facing the English Channel. It said:

"The Allied Forces Landing On This Shore Which They Call Omaha Beach Liberate Europe - June 6, 1944"

The First Infantry Division certainly had no monopoly on courage during the Second War. It was one of eighty-nine US divisions that fought across two theaters in Europe and the Pacific. But elements of the Fighting First had a proud tradition unlike the others. The 18th Infantry was formed during the War of 1812 and had fought in the great battles of the Civil War. The regiment joined the First Division in World War One and fought with distinction until the end of the war. During World War II, the Division saw more days in combat -443- than any other American unit in the European Theater. Its heroes included fourteen men who were awarded the Medal of Honor and one hundred-thirty Distinguished Service Cross recipients. Brilliant generals inspired and led the Division, including George Patton, Omar Bradley, Terry Allen, Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., Clifton Andrus and Clarence Huebner, who commanded the D-Day landings.

H.R. Knickerbocker, who wrote about the "Big Red One" in a post- war history entitled "Danger Forward, the Story of the First Division in World War II," explained its myth this way: "The First Division never retreated; the First Division always went forward, the First Division always took its objectives; the First Division was invincible." In his history of the Sicilian Invasion, Carlo D'Este's "Bitter Victory" claimed, "The saga of the legendary First Division in World War II was of a division that was consistently given the most difficult assignments, which were just as consistently carried out with brilliance and élan." But, this legend did not come easily. It was earned after harsh battles during the early campaigning in North Africa, struggles that formed the basis for retaliation and eventual, glorious victories. A generation later, I now stood humbly on one of the shores where thousands of these brave men rose out of an angry sea and fought fiercely in the name of Freedom.

I then followed a winding road up a hill off the beach and eventually found my way to the Normandy American Cemetery, where 9,079 known soldiers and 307 unknowns are buried today. The 18th Infantry forced the ground this monument to heroism now stands on during the late morning of that famed June 6^th we remember as D-Day.

I quietly entered the gates to go into the cemetery and then consulted a map that first led me to a beautiful colonnade overlooking a reflecting pool and the seemingly endless rows of graves beyond it. There was a stunning twenty-two foot bronze statue sculpted by Donald Delue in the center of this open arc that faced outward towards the many simple crosses which marked the final resting-places of those fallen champions who preserved our way of life. The statue represented "The Spirit of American Youth Rising from the Waves." These words encircled the pedestal:

"Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory of the Coming of the Lord."

My camera attempted to capture the perpetual beauty of this memorial as its arms reached towards the sky and both of its determined eyes gazed eternally towards the heavens. I struggled to control my emotions as I realized that most of the men for whom this statue gracefully reached to God left this world before they were twenty-five years old.

Later as I turned away from the colonnade, I stepped back far enough to read the inscription on the inner face of the lintel. In the semi-circle of this visage, it said:

"This Embattled Shore, Portal of Freedom, Is Forever Hallowed

By the Ideals, the Valor and the Sacrifices of Our Fellow Countrymen."

I then walked towards an area overlooking the beach, the same beach where I had earlier stood before the First Division Monument. From this vantage point, I was able to see a different Omaha Beach, the one the heavily armed Germans saw. I could not help but think that our boys never had a chance, for the enemy's position was so commanding from this slope. There was a winding path lined with benches directly below the overlook I stood at, a route undoubtedly followed by terrified soldiers up this trail on D-Day. I knew my late uncle was one of them, for the 18th Infantry's actions were recognized with another Presidential Citation on June 6, 1944, which said in part:

"Despite initial resistance and devastating artillery fire which continued

throughout the landing, the regiment uninterruptedly pushed on to drive the enemy

back and formed the first defensive beachhead beyond the critical slopes."

His battalion's actions, recorded in the official Army history of D-Day, were described as "concerted bold actions that brought the most substantial improvement on the beach since the start of the landings." His unit’s progress up the bluffs at that critical time significantly contributed to the reversal of a plan being contemplated by American commander Omar N. Bradley to evacuate Omaha Beach on the morning of D-Day. But, by the end of that day, Pfc. Baummer’s company was farther inland than any other unit that landed on Omaha Beach during the Invasion of Normandy.

I then started walking slowly past the reflecting pool at the foot of the colonnade, eventually overlooking expansive, beautifully manicured lawns and ten huge grave plots that were marked in rows and columns. One grave contained the remains of General Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., who was the Assistant Commander of the 1st Division in North Africa and Sicily. He died after leading another division ashore during the D-Day landings. I learned a father and a son, who had fallen on the battlefields in France, were buried side-by-side in two of the graves. There were also thirty-three pairs of brothers interred here. Each grave was marked with a headstone, a Star of David for those of Jewish faith and a Latin cross for the others. The headstones were precisely aligned, conveying both order and a feeling of unforgettable peace and serenity. All of America was represented here. Soldiers from what are now the fifty states lay at rest in these graves.

Before leaving the cemetery, I went to the chapel in the middle of the grave plots to say a prayer for my late uncle. I approached the entry while watching other solemn, moist-eyed people who had come here, then spoke quietly to a woman from Ohio. She told me her father died on Omaha Beach during D-Day. She said she never knew him and that she was only two years old when the war took him away. An inscription on the outside wall of this peaceful place of worship read as follows:

Liberation Of Northern France. Their Graves Are The Permanent And Visible Symbol Of

Their Heroic Devotion And Their Sacrifice In The Common Cause Of Humanity."

Once inside the chapel, I said a prayer for Private First Class Robert A. Baummer, who was cut down in Normandy three days after D-Day on June 9, 1944 by a direct shell hit to his chest. Like thousands of others in his generation, he made the supreme sacrifice for his country in a just war, far too young. But my silent prayer paled by comparison to the inscription that rested on gold leaf in the black marble of the altar:

"I Give Unto Them Eternal Life and They Shall Never Perish."

This book is mainly about his military career. It reveals the life of an ordinary soldier in the line during the most destructive war in the history of mankind. It is written within the context of the historical events that led my late uncle into the Army and is a working history of the First Infantry Division during World War II until the time of his death after D-Day.

Although I have been an avid writer all of my life, I never attempted to write a book like this one. Because I was dealing with history, military records and the lives of thousands of men in addition to my late uncle, I was careful not to distort any material facts to weave a story line. I will admit, however, that it was very difficult for me to pretend that I was on the battlefield with him while writing this book. I feared I might offend a veteran who was there by taking this risk. Forgive me if I do, whether it is an unintentional error of fact or an omission of any soldier's relevant role in the actions that I have described.

I did my best to march in the shadow of one soldier across the ramparts of two continents of an American Iliad and to describe his experiences as it was likely seen through his eyes, the eyes of a young man who preceded my lifetime and I never knew, until now.

Robert Baumer