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Words and Deeds-How America’s Angels Speak

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03.21.2016 at 01:45pm

Words and Deeds-How America’s Angels Speak

Keith Nightingale

Words are our pallet of life.  We color our relationships with subtleties, nuances and emphasis’ that create a message as complex and varied as the colors on an artist’s pallet.  Words are our staff of life. We use them more than any other part of our being in our daily conduct.  Sometimes, in special, unique situations, they bring more than communication.  They can mean life and hope and an iron will.  Life is delivered to the listener by a man with a seemingly hostile demeanor but a dedicated intent to preserve and save the life that received the message.  This is the message of America in the words of American’s who have chosen to be its special couriers in the protection of its citizens.

Sometimes, words achieve a distinct psychological charge that is transferred into the core of the listener and causes much that is indescribable to happen.  One instance occurred in a large open field in England, the bearer of the words was Brigadier General Jim Gavin, the appointed assault force commander for the 82d Airborne Division.

At an appropriate time prior to the actual invasion, he began to brief each of his subordinate regiments, the 505, 507th and 508th Parachute Infantry Regiments and the 325 Glider Infantry Regiment.  His technique was a continuation of his leadership style-personal, clear and unequivocal.  For this event and its import, he did something special with his words that acted as a furnace converting his trooper’s hearts to the steel he knew they must have.  Words would be his tool to weld all to be one.

He separately gathered each unit around him as he stepped on the hood of a jeep.  Once reasonable silence had been achieved, he spoke in a loud but clear voice;

“I will not order you to France.  I will take you.”

Each unit experienced a near total silence for that moment and collectively created an inner edge that would serve it and its members well.  They now knew without question they would prevail.  And they knew they had a leader to take them.  Words have power beyond their form. 

The sky over the Cotentin Peninsula of Normandy at 0105 6 June 1944 was cloud-packed with intermittent rain and winds.  Over a thousand aircraft could be occasionally glimpsed through the porous cloud cover displaying a full moon. The planes penetrated the coast on the Brittany side of the peninsula as they wove their way toward the many drop zones assigned to their couriers-the soldiers of the 82d and 101st Airborne bringing our message of freedom for the thousands of French residing in occupation below.  Very shortly, the angels from the sky began to gather themselves and walk the ground on their assigned routes.

Many of the citizenry were initially apprehensive regarding any form of overt assistance to the soldiers.  They had seen commandos and the French Underground  before as they passed through committing random acts of sabotage.  Invariably, SS and other security elements would comb the area and incarcerate or physically harm any citizens who they deemed helpful to the mysterious passing strangers.  It was no different this night.

Troopers, badly scattered by the drop, began their loose assemblies and movements to where they thought they ought to have been.  These small groups, rarely an intact element, moved from village to farm to pasture seeking solace in numbers and a return to the comfort of their previously organized units.  Within the farms and villages, the locals noted the new arrivals either visually or by hearing.  The Germans were fully engaged and the occasional plane could be seen flaming and crashing into the earth. Something big was underway.  The degree of fires, movements and alarms was nothing previously known.  Still, most French stayed in their strong Norman dwellings and awaited the outcome of these displays.  To appear outside would be to invite immediate German reprisal or a bullet.

Across the now flaming peninsula, a similar act was being played by many of the newly arrived troopers.  In most cases, they attempted to avoid any built-up area as likely harboring Germans that could impede movement to the assembly areas.  However, on some occasions, soldiers would encounter an isolated farm house seeking either shelter or information or both.  Inside, the senior male occupant might order his family to the basement or inner bedroom for protection at the knock and intrusion.  A crack in the door might show one or several heavily laden and fully armed men, grim with the experience of the night and dirty from their personal collision with the soggy Norman earth and its myriad cattle droppings.  They meant business and they carried life and death in their hands.  The man or woman at the door would have a thousand things racing through their minds at this moment; Can we trust them? Will they hurt us?  Where are the German’s?  Is this a trap? Hesitation met the encounter.

Every trooper, while in England, had been issued a French phrase book.  It was designed to permit a non-French speaking soldier to effectively communicate a number of basic needs, issues, courtesies and situations. One of those now became the most important collection of words the French had heard in more than four years–Nous reston ici.  We are here! –and subliminally in the family hearts-What that meant.   These words, when accompanied by a turn of the shoulder and a pointing finger to the large American flag on the shoulder wiped out a generation of anxiety, fear and hopelessness.  The angels had arrived with a longed for message. 

The teenagers and twenty somethings bearing the message did not understand at that moment the true significance of their words.  They were satisfied with a smiling friendly face, a quick glass of wine, Calvados or milk and a hurried discussion as to desired locations, routes and hostile forces. They disappeared into the night after an exchange for the now broadly smiling family faces of cigarettes, chocolate, a spare K ration or gum-treats unheard of by many of the children. 

Soon, with the coming of the dawn, it was clear, at last, that We Are Here.  There are only three words in the phrase, but they spoke volumes of thoughts and feelings.  They remain today in the hearts of the Norman population-most of whom know and understand the deeper meaning those words in both languages.  Words have great power and great power to do good. We are fortunate our angels know them.

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