My name is Pvt. Charles A. Goodner of the 101st Air Division.
It's early on June 6, 1944, and we are adrift on a Higgin's boat approaching the shores of Omaha Beach. Mortar fire is increasing consistently as we approach the beach and is ever closer to hitting our boat. Within about 10 minutes we reach shore, where we open the doors to the boat and are nailed with heavy machinegun fire from the German machinegun nests atop the hill. Within seconds, half of our company is either injured or dead. I climb over the side of the Higgin's boat to potentially avoiding the majority of the machinegun fire, and splash into the water that is now of the color red from the blood of my brothers. I swim to shore as fast as I possibly could, and as I run for cover, I observe my surroundings... and all that I see is soldiers lying everywhere, with limbs shot off, and soldiers screaming out in agony. The stench of death is greatly around us as we attempt to advance up to an entrenchment where we can better take the machinegun nests. It was a miserable sight to see, boys not even old enough to vote yet, dying at a consistent rate, it saddens me to this day to think about it.
