Jun. 1—WATERTOWN — Eighty years ago, the focus of Americans turned to the shores of France, where on June 6, vast allied armadas launched an invasion to begin the liberation of Europe from the Nazi forces of Germany.
As the sun rose in Watertown on that trying Tuesday and as the day wore on, residents prayed.
"Between 11:30 and 11:50 this morning, the business section was crowded with children and adults but suddenly the crowds vanished as they left for their respective churches. And in a few minutes the entire business section presented a deserted appearance," the Times, which published extra editions on June 6, 1944, reported.
At the Hotel Woodruff, people flocked to a window display that featured a large map showing the progress of Allied forces along with the latest news bulletins.
In Gouverneur at 8 a.m., the memorial tower amplifier of the First Presbyterian Church played chimes and "God Bless America." Merchants displayed flags.
According to the The World War II museum in New Orleans, by June 11, with the beachheads firmly secured, more than 326,000 Allied troops had crossed with more than 100,000 tons of military equipment.
In 1969, on the 25th anniversary of the invasion, the Watertown Daily Times reported that more than 70 Northern New Yorkers went ashore on D-Day with engineering units, medical outfits and headquarters units. Navy personnel were among those aboard bouncing landing craft. Others flew over the beaches in bombers and fighter aircraft.
The operation consisted of more than 150,000 soldiers from the United States, Great Britain and Canada along with nearly 7,000 surface watercraft and about 3,000 aircraft with the goal of crushing Germany and its fascist (far-right, authoritarian and ultranationalist) government to help end World War II.
Operation Overlord (D-Day) resulted in 4,414 Allied deaths, 2,501 of them Americans. Thousands more were wounded and many more killed and wounded in the ensuing Battle of Normandy. As the decades march on, the significance of the event and the sacrifices made for it are kept alive by somber ceremonies, but the voices of those who witnessed D-Day and the war itself are rapidly disappearing.
According to U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs statistics, 119,550 of the 16.4 million Americans who served in World War II were alive as of 2023. There is no official resource for how many D-Day veterans remain. In 2019, the 75th anniversary of D-Day, the number of remaining WWII veterans was at 500,000.
The National World War II Museum, in a state-by-state breakdown, reports that in 2023, there were 6,869 WWII veterans in New York.
The memories of several north country residents who experienced D-Day are kept alive in the archives of the Watertown Daily Times. We'll begin by recalling four Watertown residents who took their last breaths on that day in Normandy on June 6, 1944.
Engineers were key
Engineers comprised 25% of the force the Allies landed. Three of the four Watertown residents who lost their lives that day were engineers of the 299th Engineer Combat Battalion, which landed on Omaha Beach and Utah Beach. Information about the battalion and reported in the Times in 1994, was collected by the late Maurice A. Pfister, (1924-2003) a longtime social studies teacher at Lyme Central School. He served during World War II with Company B, 299th Combat Engineer Battalion, as a demolition specialist. Here is what Pfister, whose unit attacked Utah Beach, told the Times in 1994:
"We were loaded down with two satchels of demolition explosives weighing 60 pounds, our full field packs, M-1 rifle and ammunition, and some with Bangalore (torpedo-like explosive charge) to blow up barbed-wire entanglements. At about 4:30 a.m., we started our run to the beach with the control boats leading the way into two very rough lines to Utah Beach.
"From the time we debarked from the troop ship about eight to 10 miles from France, the U.S. naval ships began to unload salvo after salvo from their big guns upon the beach and other targets. As we got closer to landing, the rocket-launcher ships really unloaded. Air support from planes of the 9th Air Force came over to strike the beach. Due to a heavy overcast, you could hear but not see the bombers. I wondered if my first cousin, Staff Sgt. Paul L. Dulmage, radio operator on a B-24, was on a D-Day mission." (Sgt. Dulmage died in the waning days of the battle of Normandy.)
"As we moved slowly to the beach, we caught sight of our first casualties, crewmen of the control boats. Three of the four control boats were crippled or destroyed by mines. Those who were killed were floating face-down, while those wounded were clinging to one control boat floating upside down. Others were in the water begging for help. We could not stop.
"A short way from the beach, a boat had its ramp blown off. Killed in action were six engineers from the demolition assault team, plus many were wounded.
"We were now approaching the second sand bar and our drop-off point. We were all really apprehensive at this time. The ramp dropped and we jumped off, some with difficulty due to the weight on our shoulders. I doubled over from the weight, but could not gain a footing as I was in deep water. I had hit the edge of a bomb crater, I assume. As I was struggling, I felt a little uplifting push or shove from my commander following me.
"When we finally touched down on the dunes, the only thing I saw was a disabled dual drive tank. No one else was in sight except our own 299th Engineers. It was no surprise to me that we were among the first in on Utah Beach, as we were told by our commander in our briefings that we would be among the first. It was a part of our plan to create 50-yard gaps through the sea wall and underwater obstacles to allow landing craft, men, tanks and material to move inland.
"We realized immediately that we had landed not on the planned beach, but south of it. Since all was going well, we did not complain.
"We were digging in along the sea wall when an elderly little gentleman with a cane approached us, said something like 'Good job, soldiers,' then wanted to know where our company commander was. We pointed him out. He went over to him, said a few words, and walked away down the beach. Within a few minutes, we moved inland.
"This little elderly gentleman turned out to be Brig. Gen. Theodore Roosevelt Jr. He was the assistant to the commander of the 4th Infantry Division, but I thought he was a war correspondent.
"In the afternoon, as we were clearing a mine field, we suffered our first casualty in our squad. Pfc. Steven Smutz, Massena, was wounded in the hand and was suffering from a concussion.
"We learned later that if we had landed on the planned site, we probably would have suffered great casualties. The site was very well fortified with heavy guns and machine guns. Rough water and winds threw us off course and proved to be our friends on Utah Beach.
"Our company captured a German gun emplacement and took about 25 prisoners.
"Utah Beach was not a cake walk, but relatively easy compared to bloody Omaha Beach. As we moved inland we could see the reason: the very high casualties suffered by the 82nd Airborne Division. They landed in back of Utah Beach, which was heavily defended by many obstacles, like poles, wires, barbed-wire entanglements, tank traps and flooded fields. These units paid a heavy price to capture exits and causeways to make it easier and safer for the waves of troops and war material to land on Utah Beach. We owe them very much."
Watertown-area residents in the 299th Engineer Combat Battalion killed that day:
— Cpl. Charles Leland Wood Jr., son of Watertown City Manager Mr. and Mrs. Charles Leland Wood, 742 Ball Ave., was killed when the amphibious landing craft carrying his group to Omaha Beach was blown up.
— Cpl. Joseph J. Shimkonis, son of Mr. and Mrs. Steve Shimkonis, 112 St. Mary. St., Watertown, said to have been one of the first American soldiers to land on the beach.
— Cpl. Tech. Clarence D. Wetterhahn, 36, son of Fred and Katherine Wetterhahn, both deceased at the time, and husband of Verona June Haas Wetterhahn, 903 Academy St., Watertown.
— About 800 infantrymen were in the first wave at Omaha. They were mowed down by hidden Nazi gun nests. Among the dead was Pvt. Samuel L. Merrill, son of attorney Ray W. Merrill, 242 Franklin St., Watertown, with the 12th U.S. Infantry, 4th Division.
Paul J. Dowling of Flower Avenue, Watertown landed on Omaha Beach as a member of the 348th Combat Engineers. "There is nothing that can happen to me now in the world, as I look back at that day, in that I cannot feel that I am lucky," Dowling, who died in 2011 at the age of 89, told the Times in 1994. "I have always wondered why I was never hurt. We were sitting ducks."
The unexpected slaughter — "We were supposed to be out wandering around" in search of mines and obstructions — delayed his unit's movement. "We were using ammo and rations taken from bodies. You had to live. It was kill or be killed."
He marveled at the combat spirit of Rangers who struggled to get over the cliffs, some 170 feet high, to save the day. Many of those men met immediate death as they came upon German "pill boxes" hidden in trenches. Historians report the Germans thought they had won this stand, believing they had repelled the Allies. But when the Rangers overtook 100-foot-high Pointe du Hoc and knocked out guns on that cliff, a foothold was finally gained by the end of D-Day on Omaha Beach.
The carnage of Omaha Beach was also witnessed by George A. Bonadio, 337 East Ave., Watertown. He died in 2015 at the age of 97. He worked for his father, Frank, in their liquor store on Public Square before and after World War II and later gained ownership of the business.
"I was invited to join the liaison staff which was to make Omaha Beachhead because I had invaded Africa and in my combat report recommended a new communications company," Bonadio told the Times. "I became the junior officer, coordinating complications of changes which units were always making. I made the landing wave chart for Omaha boats."
George J. Amthor, 156 Ward St., Watertown, was among personnel who arrived days after the initial attack as part of the 953rd Field Artillery Battalion. Amthor, who also fought in the Battle of the Bulge and served with the Air Force during the Korean War, died in 2001 at the age of 89. The Queens native moved to Watertown in 1971 and became a security guard at the Dulles State Office Building for five years.
"My outfit landed on Omaha Beach June 12, 1944," Amthor told the Times in 1994. "We took gun positions in the hedgerows with the 2nd Infantry Division, to which we were attached. There was a lot of fierce fighting there."
Making history
Here is what other veterans who experienced D-Day told the Times in 1994, 50 years after a WDT headline referred to the day as the "Greatest War Operation in World History":
— William M. Coombs, Alexandria Bay, was a fireman aboard the USS Nevada. After the war he was a carpenter. He died in 1998 at the age of 80. From his war diary:
"It was the commander on the USS Nevada who gave the order to the rest of the American warships to 'commence firing' on D-Day. The Nevada had the distinction of firing the first salvo.
"It was our duty to destroy enemy defenses, not only along the coast, but also inland. We, the Texas and the Arkansas were ordered to drop anchor and fire from a stationary position. When the Germans found the range of our ships, we had to hoist our anchors and move around.
"Fortunately for us, their guns were inaccurate and ineffective due to our maneuvers. However, some of their bombs and shells came so close to the ship that they bounced shrapnel about on the deck, and geysers of water splashed on the ship as near-misses exploded close to her.
"We stayed in position for 3 1/2 days, blasting gun emplacements and beach fortifications. We didn't fire at night unless it was absolutely necessary for our defense, as that gave the guns a chance to cool down for the next day's firing.
"One of our duties was to eliminate some tanks inland, and we were given their positions by some American paratroopers who had taken over a town. Although we were at least 15 miles from our targets, the shells hit them and knocked them out.
"Our crew was at general quarters for 80 straight hours after arriving at the Normandy beachhead. I was proud to be part of her crew on this most important mission."
— Robert C. Simmons, Fishers Landing, served with the Navy aboard a LCT (landing craft for tanks). After the war, he worked as a probation officer and supervisor. He died in 2010 at the age of 85.
"I had to keep the diesels running as we took some combat engineers and their big machines into Utah Beach. We made a number of trips, bringing in troops, evacuating the wounded, then bringing in another load. In low tide, we were sitting ducks off the beach, but there were no casualties on our ship."
— Louis Sacchetti, 654 Burchard St., Watertown, served with the 1st Battalion, 502nd Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division. After the war, he worked for the city's water department. He died in 1997 at the age of 79.
"Our objectives were to destroy a coastal gun battery in back of Utah Beach, attack and eliminate barracks and artillery garrisons and to aid in seizing and holding open two causeways so that the 4th Division could come in from the beach. My group numbered about 22 troopers, and most of us had to be helped into the plane" (because of all the gear they carried). It was just getting dusk when we left England. The time was about 2300 hours (11 p.m).
"When we reached the coast of France and our jump-master yelled to get ready, I was wide awake. We did our equipment check and waited for the green light. By now the plane was bouncing around and I kept thinking, 'Let's get the hell out of here.' The green light finally came on and the jump-master yelled, 'Let's go.'
"When I got to the door, with all the flak, machine-gun fire, it looked like the Fourth of July. I leaped out and waited for my chute to open. I never got a chance to locate anything. It seemed that shortly after my chute opened, I hit the ground. Later we learned that the reason for the low drop was due to the evasive action taken by the pilots.
"I landed in a small field and felt blood pouring down my face. It was from a wound over my right eye. I took a compass reading and noticed that the time was about 0130 hours (1:30 a.m.). We had not been told everything about the hedgerows. They are impossible to go through and usually have only one opening.
"Roads were the only way to travel. The planes had gone and the firing had let up. In fact, there were times when it was very quiet. As best I could, I traveled in a northeast direction. I spent the rest of the night resting and moving toward the beach and St. Martin de Varreville, where I knew 1st Battalion people should be. Troopers I ran into were also trying to get to their units.
"It wasn't until about 1000 hours (10 a.m.) that I made contact with a group of troopers from the 502nd near Fourcarville. They were attempting to take a fortified hill position. I joined them and spent the day in that firefight. The hill was very well protected, with bunkers and barbed wire. Without artillery we did not have the firepower to take it.
"I remember that it was a warm, sunny day. Someone noticed my bandage and told me that there was an aid station nearby. When I got to it, I saw that they were very busy with troopers who had real bad wounds. I left and at a farmhouse got some water and washed the blood off my face."
— Orlando A. Saccketti, 1010 Gill St., Watertown, served with the Army's 64th Airdrome Squadron. After the war, he worked at J.B. Wise Co., New York Air Brake, Donovan Construction and the city's filtration plant. He died in 1997 at the age of 72.
"While in England, I took part in operating a practice bombing range for B-17 bombers. From England I traveled by LST, and landed at Utah Beach in France June 13, 1944. The main mission of the 64th Airdrome Squadron, Tactical Air Command of the 9th Air Force, was to service fighter planes that landed on airstrips as soon as the infantry secured them. We would in turn refuel, re-arm and put bombs on all types of fighter planes. These fighters would help clear the way for the infantry by knocking out tanks, munition depots, trains carrying troops and supplies."
— Madison B. Cobb, Henderson, served with the 2nd Ranger Battalion. After the war he was a dairy farmer and manager of Northeast Feed Store in Pierrepont Manor. He died in 2007 at the age of 85.
Cobb's unit was assigned the task of taking Pointe du Hoc, a coastal battery about halfway between Omaha and Utah beaches, closer to Omaha. The Rangers who took the point had to overcome 85- to 100-foot cliffs.
"They told us that we would only have to mop up, but somebody was shooting at me, I know that. I could see the tracers coming at me, and three hit me in the shoulder. My sergeant got hit in the stomach, and he died in a hospital ship.
"On our way to the landing, the waves were so high that they were swamping our landing craft, and we were using our helmets to bail it out. The boat next to us sank. There were four of us on our boat. Our job was to get the ammo and supplies up to the cliffs before they could shoot at us. I made 10 to 15 trips from the boat to shore before I was wounded. After I was hit, they put me down in the middle of the boat, and the Germans were still shooting at us. Their bullets were hitting the water next to me."
— Everett L. Thomson, DeKalb Junction, served aboard LST 530. After the war, he was a dairy products inspector for the state Department of Agriculture. He died in 2002 at the age of 79.
"At the end of May 1944, LST 530 joined the Amphibious Command at Harwich, England, and began training operations. I knew that something was coming but didn't know what, when or where. There was no doubt that we were headed for German-held France in the near future. Voluminous medical supplies, hundreds of British 8th Army men and officers, guns, giant Churchill tanks, ammunition trucks, Jeeps and other combat equipment were all taken aboard during practiced beachings. Our participation in the D-Day invasion went off without a flaw. His craft's destination was Gold Beach, taken by the British. The vessel maneuvered around sunken boats and mines to make its delivery, then returned to England with wounded Allied soldiers and German prisoners. In the spring of 1945, his unit would be at Gold Beach during the invasion of Okinawa.
Duty and devotion
— Amos C. "Andy" Cambron, Henderson, was a tank driver with the 47th Armored Field Artillery Battalion, part of the 5th Armored Division. After the war, he was a mechanic and worked in construction. He died in 2016 at the age of 93. In 2007, he recalled his war and D-Day experiences in a Times' "Duty & Devotion" column.
"On June 6, 1944, we landed on Utah Beach." He said his LST carried 18 Sherman tanks. "It's a wonder I didn't die on the way, with all the tanks running; talk about carbon monoxide fumes!
"A lot of tanks were lost. I had a snorkel on the back of my tank so the water couldn't get into the breather. After we landed, I asked the lieutenant in charge, 'Where do we go now?' He said, 'You're driving it — just go!'"
The 5th Armored was the first division to reach the Seine River; one of the first to enter Belgium; the first to reach and liberate Luxembourg and the first to fight on German soil.
"Our job was to take out a tank or anything that was holding up the column. In the summer of 1944 in France, a sniper with a bazooka hit my tank and killed three guys. I couldn't do it today, but in the bottom of the tank, there was an escape hatch I crawled out of. I laid in the grass for six hours. Finally, our tanks came up and the guys found three bodies. There was only four of us. Usually, there's five, but my assistant driver didn't go that day. I hollered and raised my hands over my head."
— Andor Bocskor was born in Watertown on Nov. 18, 1919. He, his parents and his siblings moved back to Hungary when he was 3, but an older brother stayed behind. But Mr. Bocskor returned to the U.S., catching the last boat to America before World War II broke out. Two brothers were conscripted into the Axis powers. After the war, he lived in Waddington and worked at Alcoa for more than 40 years. He died in 2013 at the age of 93.
Bocskor was in the Army's 188th Quartermaster Railhead Company as a private first class and was part of 50 soldiers in the unit chosen for the 6th Amphibious Special Engineers. He fought at Normandy, continuing through France and Belgium and as far as the Rhine River.
He shared his war experiences in a 2011 "Duty & Devotion" column.
"Our job during the Normandy invasion was to help the company land and establish the food depot. We landed in the third wave on the first day — June 6, 1944. I was put in a select group of 50 called the 6th Amphibious Special Engineers. It was our job to clear the beaches of mines and obstacles. I was chosen because I was a crane operator."
Beyond that, Bocskor didn't like to talk about his D-Day experience. "It was tough. What can I tell you? It was hell, let me put it that way."
— Clark J. Baker of Chipman Corners Road, Madrid, served with the Army's 529th Engineer Light Pontoon Company. After the war, he worked at Alcoa in the rolls department for 43 years. He died in 2013 at the age of 90. In 2010, he shared some of his wartime experience in a "Duty & Devotion" column.
"We shipped over to England in 1944. We went to a little village called Shenstone, England," Baker said. "When June 6 came along, D-Day, they sent us down to Southampton. We went on a big transport and we went across. It was about two days after the initial D-Day. They didn't have enough beach to get us in."
Their landing area was Omaha Beach. "They couldn't get us on beach because they couldn't get room enough to get our equipment in. We were out there for almost a whole day, circling around out in the channel. A lot of the guys got sick. But they finally brought us in and we lost an awful lot of equipment on the beach. They had enough to get us into a little small field that was off Omaha Beach. We camouflaged all the stuff along the hedgerow and we were there for pretty near two solid weeks."
— Loyd B. Brown of Potsdam was a corporal in an Army artillery unit, responsible for manning cannons aboard an anti-aircraft ship the day it arrived at Omaha Beach, his 21st birthday. On his 91st birthday in 2014, he was the guest of honor at the Potsdam Veterans of Foreign Wars Post, where he shared some of his D-Day memories with a Times reporter. After the war, he worked various jobs including logging and serving as a deputy St. Lawrence County sheriff. He died in 2022 at the age of 98.
He recalled being surrounded by gunfire, smoke and a great deal of chaos on D-Day.
"It was so noisy you couldn't hear yourself think," he said. "You couldn't even see in the sky."
The infantry soldiers were first to hit the beaches, so it was several hours before Brown and his fellow artillery soldiers disembarked with cannon and other heavy weapons. When they did they were surrounded by fallen soldiers.
"The beaches were loaded with bodies. They were floating in the water."
He also remembered winning a bet with a fellow soldier regarding what day the invasion would occur.
A storm in the English Channel postponed the invasion from June 5 to June 6, which meant he won the $5 bet.
If you know of a military veteran who would like to be the subject of a "Duty & Devotion" column, contact Times staff writer Chris Brock at cbrock@wdt.net
