Dorothy Brush "Random Thoughts" Published June 2, 2004

A question on the battlefield ...

"Chaplain, are you praying?"

Above the horrendous symphony of machine-gun fire and heavy artillery, Chaplain Reed heard those words shouted to him. A young soldier struggling through waist-high water to reach Omaha Beach watched the man of God for his answer.

The chaplain's lips formed, "Yes."

Again the boy called, "Then pray for me."

This brief conversation was Capt. Charles D. Reed's prologue to that frightful day in history, D-Day, June 6, 1944. Twenty-five years later I interviewed Reed, then pastor of a Methodist Church in northwestern Ohio. He had volunteered for the chaplaincy in May, 1942. From the time of his arrival in England 18 months before the invasion the training involved preparing for that day.

During the last several weeks on British soil, the invasion forces were confined behind barbed wire. Chaplain Reed was acutely aware of the mounting tension and hardly a day passed that he was called to counsel a man who had attempted suicide, or worse, to bury one who had succeeded.

Even after they boarded the ships the strain was not relieved. Weather forced a 24-hour postponement. It was about midnight when the word came that the delay was ended. With his assistant Mac, a young man with a master,s degree in music, Chaplain Reed prepared for a communion service. As they worked Mac spoke softly, "I'll never live the day out."

Reed spoke on the things that cannot be shaken during the service. He chose words to reassure Mac and the many attending the service. They all knew they were about to walk through the valley of death.

Near dawn, time exploded into a frenzy of activity. Landing craft, heavily loaded , carried their human cargo as near the beach as they dared, then spilled the warm bodies into the icy waters. Chaplain Reed came in with the second wave, H-hour plus 30 minutes.

As he struggled in the rough water he recognized men who had attended their last communion. Now their lifeless bodies were part of the ocean movement. When he reached the beach one of the first bodies he saw was Mac. Though mortally wounded, he smiled as the chaplain leaned close and said, "Mac, God is with you."

During those first hours it seemed to Reed the invasion was a disorganized shambles. The beach was under constant fire and there was no place to take cover. He was wounded shortly after reaching the shore. In the next few moments his actions were recognized and he received the Silver Star for gallantry against the enemy in Normandy, France.

The commendation saluted his courage in swimming to the aid of a drowning man and bringing him to shore even though he had received no medical treatment for his wounded leg. It was not until the book The Longest Day was published that Chaplain Reed learned he was the first American chaplain to hit the beach on that fateful day.

It has been 60 years but that June day left splinters of remembrance embedded in the brains of men who were part of it; splinters that can never be entirely removed. In the dark of night when the mind is still, they shift and prick at the consciousness until the horrors that were seen, the screams pounding in the ears, again become too real to ever be forgotten. It was a day God walked in hell.

On that long ago night President Roosevelt spoke to the nation asking that in this poignant hour we join him in prayer. "Almighty God: Our sons, pride of our nation, this day have set upon a mighty endeavor, A struggle to preserve our republic, our religion, and our civilization, and to set free a suffering humanity." His prayer closed with, "Lead us to the saving of our country, and with our sister nations into a world unity that will spell a sure peace -- a peace invulnerable to the schemings of unworthy men . And peace that will let all men live in freedom, reaping the just rewards of their honest toil."

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Dorothy Copus Brush is a Fairfield Glade resident and Crossville Chronicle staffwriter whose column is published each Wednesday.