As a follow up to the previous blog, where I wrote about my visit to Pegasus and Horsa Bridges, that were the objective of the British 6th Airborne Division during the early hours of D-Day ~ I would like to share the personal story of Harry Aitkenhead and his jump into Normandy.
During my frequent wanders on the local beaches near my home in Nova Scotia, I have met many interesting people doing the very same, and notably always with a very broad smile on their faces. One of those was George Aitkenhead and his wife Janette, who I believe regardless of the weather walked with their dog every day on the local Crescent Beach.
George who died a couple of months before his 78th birthday on 10th April 2024, loved a good chat and always had an interesting tale to tell, but it was only this
past March that I learned from Janette that his father Harold "Harry" Aitkenhead, was part of the British 6th Airborne Division, who parachuted
into Normandy during the early hours of D-Day. Desperately wanting to know more about this,
Janette put me in touch with George’s brother Peter who lives near Hammonds
Plain, Nova Scotia.
Over the course of a couple of calls with Peter, he told me about his father Harry. He was born on 20th November 1919 in Cleator Moor within the historic county of Cumberland, on England's coast with the Irish Sea. He left his civilian job as a Foundry Worker to sign up for military service on 20 August 1938, and became part of the Wiltshire Regiment with service number 5570044.
He married Marie Bacon on 10th December 1941, together they had five sons ~ George, twins Harold and Peter and Charles all born in England, and finally John born in Canada, after the family immigrated in 1953 to settle in Paris, Ontario.
After the war, Harry was by this time a Sergeant in the 6th Airborne Division, was demobbed on 20th February 1946, and became a reserve with the Army Air Corp. He died in Brantford, Ontario on 25th July 1988 aged 69.
Peter sent me a scanned copy of his father’s extremely faded type written account of his jump into Normandy, and later into the Rhine region of Germany in March 1945, that he wrote during the 1980's. It took me many hours to carefully extract this great story of parachuting into enemy held territory, with the divisional objective of seizing the two bridges on the Orne and Caen Canal (including the famous Pegasus Bridge), and then defend them against any counter-attacks, until relieved by the arrival of British troops who later would land on Sword Beach ….
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| Harry's photograph for his Canadian immigration papers in 1953 |
In his own words ~ Harry Aitkenhead, his jump into Normandy …
The 6th
of June dawned, it was not a very good day weather wise, at least not for
jumping. That is what we were going to do, we were going to drop into Normandy
that night (during the early hours of June 6th). This was to be the largest invasion
in history. We were at long last going to put into action all the intensive
training we had been doing. We were all young and tough and ready to get at the
Nazi in Normandy. We left our transit camp where we had been for 10 days. We
had been to the airdrome two days beforehand to be fitted with our parachutes.
Apparently,
it should have been the 5th June, but it had been put back a day owing to the rough
weather. Now the day we had been waiting for was here. We took off in trucks to
a sort of preparation camp, we were told to try and get some sleep. Some of us
did, while others just laid there thinking about the coming battle. After a few
hours, we were told that we had to have a last service, by our Padre Captain
Parry. Little did we know, that it was his last service, he was killed the next
day ~
(I have added more information about Chaplain
4th Class, The Rev. George Edward Maule Parry at the end of this script)
~ It was
also the last service for a lot of us, for many were to die in the following
days. After the service we were told to get ready for battle. We then darkened
our hands and faces; this was to make us hard to be seen in the dark. After that
we checked our weapons and ammunition. There was not much to be said among the
guys, everyone was thinking about the coming battle, in times like that our
thoughts went to our folks at home, wives, mothers and fathers, and in some
cases children.
While we were
there, one of my buddies got a telegram from home saying that his wife had
given birth to a baby girl. He said ~ ”I will never see her”. We tried to talk
him out of his premonition, it was no good, he was convinced that he would never
see his daughter. He was right of course, he died the next day, hit with a
sniper’s bullet. Many men had such premonitions.
It was
getting late in the afternoon (5th June), so we had a last meal and got into our
trucks, my truck was number 145, which was also the number of my plane, a
number I would never forget. On the way to the airdrome, we passed through several
villages, the guys were throwing out money to the kids in the villages as we
drove through. Finally, we reached the airdrome, it was now getting dark and
some of the girls from the RAF gave us warm tea and cakes. We said to them we
are going on a big exercise, but noticed some of them were crying, they had an idea
what was going on.
About 10.30pm
the order came, OK let’s go, and off went our planes. On the way to our plane,
one of our guys was accidently shot by his own rifle, he had cocked his rifle
instead of charging it. The bullet went right up his arm and made a mess of it,
there was blood all over the place. Well, we thought what a start not even in
the air yet and one guy gone already. Finally, we got into our planes. Number
145 took off down the runway and could not get up, it took three goes and
then it made it. That was a little scary thinking it would go over the runway and
crash, we were airborne.
After we
were airborne, we took up jumping positions, I was jumping number 15. We were
jumping out of Sterling Bombers, they are good planes for jumping, there is a
large hole in the floor giving us plenty of clearance. While we were flying towards our goal, we
tried to relax, but it was difficult. Some of the guys slept, but not me. It is
said that sometimes a person will sleep under a lot of tension.
Soon (all
too soon), the shout went out “doors open, 20 minutes to go, 15 minutes to go,
10 minutes to go, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, red light on, green light, “GO”.
Out we go,
my pal Sgt. Richards said, “Harry I will try and land as near to you as
possible”, and he put his hand on my shoulder, we practically went out together.
The night was
filled with anti-aircraft fire, I was drifting down into what …? A light
anti-aircraft gun was firing right below me and it looked like it was firing
right at me, but as I drifted it seemed to go away from me. Bonfires were burning
all over as if the Germans had lit them to see where we were. As I was coming
down, I saw the roof of a house coming up to meet me. It was a windy night, a
bad night for jumping, one minute the moon was shining, the next it was dark because
of the wind. We came down very fast and many died with the jump alone. Also,
many died in their air harness before touching down.
I was drifting
towards a house or so I thought, but went right over it and landed into
a tree, crash, it was a hard landing. The first thing I heard was a woman and
child crying in one of houses nearby, then the air raid siren in the village.
Then I heard them, yes it was two Germans talking not too far from my tree.
It was a
night I will never forget, there was planes coming down on fire, machine guns
hammering away and small arms fire all over and guys shouting in English, German
and French. I had to get down that tree and as fast as possible. First of all,
I had to get out of my chute which was bellowing and blowing at the top of the
tree. The only time I could do this was when the wind was blowing so that the
Germans did not hear me below. It took me quite a while to get to the bottom,
but first let me tell you about my rifle. When we jump, we have our rifle
strapped to our leg in a valise, when our chute opens, we release it and it
then swings 24’ below us. Now before I came down from the tree, I tried to pull
up my rifle. I pulled and it seemed to pull back; at first I thought someone had
a hold of it, but it must have been caught on a branch of the tree and it was
pulling against me when I pulled on it. So, there was only one thing to do and
that was to get it off my harness, so I did this and crash, it went down the
tree. I heard a cry for help in English and then a burst of sub machine fire,
some poor guy must have been hurt and the Germans heard him.
Now I was
at the part of the tree where I could not go any further. All of a sudden, I
heard a familiar voice saying, “who goes there”. I said, “it's me” and he said, “oh
it's you Harry”. I said, “I am up this tree and I am now at the point where there
are no more branches to climb down on, how far am I up ...?”. He replied, “about
12 or 15 feet”, I said “well here goes, I am coming down”. So, I got hold of what
ivy there was and started to come down, and come down I did with a bang. It was
a good job I had made a pocket in the back of my smock for spare socks and
shirt, they took the sting out of the fall.
The chap at
the bottom of the tree was my pal Sgt. Richards, he must have been right behind
me and also came over the house, right to the same tree. The Germans must have
taken off because there was no sign of them around. I looked all over for my
rifle, but there was no sign of it anywhere. I also had my small pack tied to
it, so I had lost my rifle and small pack which had my water bottle, mess tins
and 24-hour rations. My pal had a Sten sub machine gun, I had a fighting
knife and my grenades. I knew where we were, I had been briefed very good, I
had made sure I knew the ground I was to fight on just like my own backyard.
You see when they brief you, they not only do it on maps, they also do it on a
sand table, and put everything on it right down to the last detail. I said to
Ricky (Sgt. Richards), “Ricky we are in Ranville about 3 or 4 miles from our
Battalion. The windy night had taken us away from our objective. That same
night some fellows were dropped miles away from us, it took some of them days
to get back, one chap it took a good many weeks, he was miles behind enemy
lines.
At the end
of Harry’s script, he added the following poem ~
With four engines roaring they flew through the
night.
Their cargo of paratroops all tensed for the
fight.
They flew over Normandy over village over town.
Many died in their harness before touching
down.
This was the start for the 6th Airborne Division.
They asked for no quarter and no quarter did
give, they fought with rifle, knife and grenade.
And the foundation of freedom they so freely laid.
Later in
Belgium, Harry fought in the Ardennes offensive in support of The Battle of the
Bulge during December 1944 and into January 1945. He made his last jump of the war during
Operation Varsity, which was the last Airborne deployment of WWII in March
1945. As the Allies advanced east into Germany in early 1945, they faced a
number of obstacles. In addition to stiff German resistance, numerous rivers
slowed the advance. In particular, the Rhine River, with its treacherous
currents and steep banks, forming a particularly strong natural defensive
barrier for the Germans, few if any bridges remained. As Allied leaders began
planning for the Rhine crossings, they decided to employ airborne forces to
drop on the east bank of the Rhine in support of any amphibious assault. What
resulted was Operation Varsity with 16,000 paratroopers, transported by 1500 aircraft and 1300 gliders.
By the time of Operation Varsity Harry now aged 25, had been promoted to Platoon Sergeant. He was in charge of the paratroopers aboard the American crewed C47 Dakota, who would jump into Germany.
In the days just before the war ended, Harry was in a group of the first British troops to meet the Russians at the River Elbe, where east met west marking the beginning of the end of the Third Reich.
He concluded his script with ~
"The 6th Airborne had lived up to their reputation as the best in the British Army."
Chaplain 4th Class, The Rev. George Edward Maule Parry …
As mentioned in Harry's story, Padre Parry parachuted into Normandy with Harry during the early hours of D-Day. His task was to support the men of the 6th Airborne Division, as they undertook the vital task of capturing the bridges over the River Orne and the Caen Canal. Within 24 hours, he would be dead, having sacrificed his life in order to try and save the lives of his wounded comrades. An eye-witness account tells, that the enemy broke a British line and reached a medical aid post where Padre Parry was working ~
"Nazi troops who seemed to be in a completely frenzied condition and set upon the wounded shooting and bayoneting them. Padre Parry immediately went to the aid of the injured lying on the dressing station floor. He protested vehemently against the murder of the helpless paratroopers, when this was ignored by the enraged Germans, he is believed to have tried a physical intervention, by putting himself between the Nazis and the wounded troops. He was then charged by the enemy troops, then in the struggle that followed, bayonets or knives were used by the Nazis and Padre Parry was cut down. He fell beside the men he tried to save."
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| Newspaper clip from 29 June 1944 |
I went to visit the grave of Padre Parry, he is buried at Benouville Churchyard not far from Pegasus Bridge. There are 23 CWGC graves at this location, 19 from 6th June, one 7th June, two 9th June and one 10th June.
Chaplain 4th Class, The Rev. George Edward Maule
Parry
Service Number: 173033
Royal Army Chaplains' Department
Died 6 June 1944, aged 29
Son of Allen James Parry, and of Muriel
Constance St. John Parry, of Leytonstone, Essex.
ARE THEY NOT ALL MINISTERING SPIRITS. HEBREWS
I.14
The other graves at Benouville Churchyard ...
RIP Padre Parry
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