Roy Jensen
(U.S. Army Corps of Engineers)
Nearly twenty-five years had elapsed since Roy Jensen, the oldest of seven
brothers, was called-up in the Great War in 1918. The conflict ended too soon
for him. Army life served as an opportunity to escape the drudgery of
agricultural work;
Roy was the only
brother who remained at home to mind the fields of corn and sugar beets. By the
late 1930’s, he was a single, middle-aged, balding man who stooped slightly when
walking, like a farm worker who had carried the burden of work on his shoulders
for years.
The experiences of a life outside of difficult physical labor slowly slipped
from his grasp. When his family lost their home in 1940, Roy
began working for a sheep and cattle ranch in southern Wyoming. It was a lonely existence. Before
the final threads of youth disappeared forever, he again enlisted in the Army at
the beginning of another world conflict. It was the inception to the most moving
experience of his life.
Roy
Jensen,
U.S. Army Corps of
Engineers
Utah Beach,
Normandy
June 27—28, 1944
We dropped anchor off Utah beach at 1900 hours on 27 June. The LCI
could not make a good landing in the evening, so we laid-over off shore. In the
morning, the ramps on each side of the 165-foot ship were dropped and we started
down the gang ways. Because we were loaded down with packs and rifles, the water
hit me in the armpits, I didn’t notice the weight while in the deep water, but
when I went out and on to dry sand, boy, my knees really buckled. I certainly
soaked up a lot of weight.
Now, we were on the battlefield. We
quickly regrouped and started on the trek to the transit area. The signs of war
were everywhere. We saw ack-ack [anti-aircraft] gun positions and pill boxes
along once heavily mined beaches. From Utah Beach one could see the cliffs at
Omaha Beach and fragments of Army equipment that littered the beaches as far as
the eye could see—knocked-out tanks, mine fields, and ruins of a battered French
village [La Madeleine]. We saw Army Rangers with German prisoners. The wreckage
was everywhere.
The transit area was reached in four or
five hours. We were still wearing our wet clothes. That nite, the first spent in France, we slept
in fox holes. Some firing occurred. Our planes flew over all nite long. We were
tired and didn’t worry too much about the matter.
June 29—July 4, 1944
At dawn the next morning, we started for Cherbourg thru the
devastated towns of Montebourg and Valognes. These towns were really torn up
from shell fire. There was nothing along the route but gaping shell craters and
bewildered French. We reached the outskirts of Cherbourg at 1500 hours. The bivouac area was
in an apple orchard. Dug in and pitched our tents. I caught guard duty the first
nite. I just backed up against a hedge row and stayed put as there were snipers
and collaborationists to be cleaned out. Due to fighting in the area, we moved
back to Valognes. Our home was a hole in the ground with the tents above us. Our
trucks and equipment caught up with us on 4 July.
July 1944
We finished in the Haineville
area near Cherbourg
and moved our pipeline outfit to a few miles past
St.
Lo. It was a picture of devastation and ruin, just terrible to see. The
smell of dead animals and humans hung heavily in the air. We camped in a
meadow where we cleared dead horses and cattle and buried them. We were
alerted to a possible break thru by the enemy. There were still pockets
of Germans who were by-passed, to be taken care of later by other units.
|
