1.25pm. But heavy fire from German artillery began landing dangerously close to the convoy and the
vessels had to turn back while the battleship HMS Warspite went in to reply with its own formidable
firepower. On LCT 405, there was a brush with danger as a loose mine floated along the port side,
but fortunately passed by without doing any damage.
For Ken Nash, a young driver-operator aboard the landing craft, there came a moment of
poignancy amid the drama. By coincidence, his father, a naval officer, was aboard the corvette
escorting the convoy. As the run-in started again at 2pm, his father sent across a message of good
luck.
Soon, Queen Red beach was in sight, smoke rising from it as it the German bombardment
intensified, with long-range guns from Le Havre - nearly 20 miles away to the east - finding their
range among the packed Allied ships. Jim Holder-Vale, another young driver-operator of 92nd
LAA aboard LCT 405, recalled: 'The first shell landed not too far away on the port side, with the
noise as if we had been hit on the underside by a giant hammer.
'We were told to go to the sides of the LCT, where wooden packing cases had been placed to
help us keep afloat in the event of us being hit and having to abandon ship. The next round landed in
the sea on the starboard side, and I remember thinking, "We've been bracketed!" But we were now
close to the beach and had to join our vehicles and start up.'
As the landing craft approached Queen Red at 2.30pm, its First Lieutenant, Arthur Walters, went
forward to supervise the lowering of the ramp and the disembarkation of men and vehicles. He
recalled: 'I can remember during this time seeing bodies floating past and wrecked landing craft
drifting some way off the beach - in particular, an LCT of similar mark to my own, with an empty
open tank space but with a vacant, flattened, smoking quarterdeck, where there used to be a
wheelhouse, wardroom, and bridge superstructure - and no sign of life. The sight of such a familiar
craft in such an unfamiliar, almost unrecognisable, state, I found quite uncanny.' Ahead of the First
Lieutenant went an Able Seaman - an Irishman named Breen - wearing a lifebelt and attached to a
lifeline, with the unenviable task of checking the submerged beach for hidden shallows and mines
before the vehicles began rolling off the LCT. He returned safely and was rewarded with an extra tot
of rum.
Jim Holder-Vale recalled: 'When the ramp came down, the first vehicle off was one with a winch at
the rear in case of any mishap and a vehicle needing help, but it drove straight into a large crater in
the sand and we had all disembarked by the time it was freed.'
As First Lieutenant Walters watched the guns and men safely disembark, he clutched thoughtfully
at the Colt .45 pistol with which he had been issued before setting out. 'I had orders to wear it and
to use it against any unauthorised person who might attempt to board while we were beached,' he
recalled. 'And it was made clear to me that this included friend or foe.'
being in progress, with the possibility that some British troops might be keen for a quick return to
England. Thus came the uncompromising command to the landing craft officers. 'I was relieved at
not having to put this order into effect,' said Arthur Walters. 'And at not causing myself any
accidental damage, for which these Colt .45's were notorious!'
At 3pm the LCT, despite triggering a small beach mine, pulled back off the sand to return to
England and pick up further loads for Normandy. The vessel immediately on its starboard side, LCT
1023, was not so lucky. It suffered a direct hit from a German shell and was badly damaged, but
later salvaged.
For the other F Troop men on LCT 408, there was equal drama and hazard. Approaching the
beach, the landing craft was diverted at the last minute by a Navy motor launch - thought to have
been the Crocus - possibly because of some unseen hazard, such as a mine.
Then, when it finally started its run-in, a wave carried it on to an overturned landing craft, and the
impact pierced the side of the vessel. The LCT became stuck fast on the wreck, with shells starting
to land all around it. But, just as its prospects were starting to look bleak, a second wave came
along - and, mercifully, pushed it off again.
However, the peril was not over. As the landing craft came free, the hole in its side left it in danger
of foundering. The skipper urgently ordered everyone to move to the opposite side of the vessel,
and the listing LCT 408 managed to complete its run-in.
Because of the diversion, the landing craft came ashore about a quarter of a mile west of Queen
Red, in the neighbouring Queen White sector opposite Hermanville. By now, the rapidly rising tide
was narrowing the strip of sand on Sword, which was a melee of men, guns, vehicles and wreckage under constant enemy fire.
As the ramp went down, the same sailor who had called out to the men during the pre-invasion
Fabius exercise appeared again to give them a final send-off, shouting: 'Soldiers, you are about to
find out this is the real thing.'
But as the guns splashed into 4ft of water, the crews had a more immediate worry: Would they
come to a dangerous, perhaps fatal, halt in the shallows, or would the engine waterproofing work?
Seconds later, they had their answer as engines revved healthily and the three SP Bofors powered
up out of the surf. Aboard F3, a spontaneous cheer went up for driver Ike Parry - who was
responsible for the waterproofing - and Gunner Leo McCarthy reached forward to pat him on the
back. The first test had been passed. Having become separated from their comrades in LCT 405 -
who had already set off for Benouville - the three guns made all speed to catch up. Weaving through
the chaos, carnage and confusion on the beach, they drove up the sands and on to the coastal road,
past lines of infantry who were digging in - and the tragic figures of soldiers who had fallen.