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Cooksey Sword

FRANK COOKSEY

R.E.M.E. Heavy Recovery section. Worked on D.A. Caterpillar tractor,
waterproofed up to 9ft. high. Landed R.E.M.E. tanks from LCT, carrying
100 men, mostly infantry.

Crossed the channel with Eddie Fletcher. He was the same age as me
and had a Caterpillar. We were briefed together at Warminster, so well
briefed that when I landed I felt I had been there before.

We were sea-sick most of the way over.. both of us were happy-go-lucky
types. I carried a piece of coal for good-luck -- came from Newcastle on
Tyne.. Spent most of the time losing all my money playing Brag. Found
the cook came from the same town as me, Chester-le-Street , so I got some
special priveleges.. slept in the galley and instead of eating iron rations
got the sailors' food. Didn't do me any good, though, cause I was sick
pretty soon after!

Most of us were pretty confident going over, thumbs up sign.. but
mood changed a bit when we started to rev up machines. Blokes had different
look on their faces, lips tightened.. those who normally took no notice
of you offered their fags, others who never spoke to you, came across and
chatted. Some began talking too much from nerves, others quietened down.
Everything seemed so big we couldn't grasp we were part of it.

Coming over thinking about home, etc., I fell in love with "Dot"
(Dorothy)..... Back home used to go out with a friend of mine, Peter
Humphreys, with two sisters, Peter liked one and I the other... never
thought much about her until D-Day, though. She was the first girl
I send a card to later in the afternoon from the beach.

One little incident happened lust offshore as we were coming in.
There was a little boat about 50yards off the beach - a rowing boat -
bobbing up and down on the waves (it was quite rough) with two men in it:
one had a bren gun, the other was lying in the bottom of the boat. They were
being systematically machine-gunned from a house on the shore... mchine-gunner
getting closer and closer until it was only a matter of time before they got
hit... Suddenly out of nowhere an American gun boat appeared: pointed its
naval gun.. fired and the house disappeared. "By God," cried the bren-gunner,
"this is a bloody marvellous gun!" Didn't see American ship, thought
he had pooped Gerry himself!

As we came up to beach there was a concentration of fire from
the houses on the front.... My sergt., Jock Patterson, was driving an
armoured bulldozer.... we came in in two landing craft, neck-end-neck...
He was meant to plant a flag (green and yellow, Cooksey thinks) at a pre-arranged
spot... He waved to me just as he was about to beach: then jumped into
sea... suddenly a sniper got him and he crumpled up. The whole scene
was so unreal, even the people seemed unreal too.. . Later somebody came
over to me and said "Pat's up there. " He was lying high and dry, wrapped
in blankets, with a note pinned on his chest by the medical people. We
buried him on the beach temporarily but later he was taken to the cemetery
at Bayeux..

My job was to have been with Patterson. He was my friend... He was
very upset before we left England because he had lost the [crossed out] engagement [end crossed out] [inserted]signet[end inserted] ring
his girl had given him. He got a NAAFI girl to go out and buy him another.

As we came in we could see POW's on the beach, some on their knees
praying..We had been told that initial resistance wou dn't be from first-class
troops. They were right.. for these POW's were 'Ruskies'.. prisoners came
in like drifters all during the day. They were completely demoralised.