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Nathan M. Greenstein, MD (continued from page
1)
August 15—17 We went on our VPs about 7:30 and after circling for an hour, started for the beach. Frankly, there was but one thing I was afraid of —- never having been under fire, I would be careless and expose myself unnecessarily. Consequently, as we approached the beach, I squatted low down and my first sight of the beach was a railroad bridge under which were huddled a group of German prisoners and a group of French civilians who had been rounded up and kept for surveillance.
After crossing the road, we went into a pine grove for the assembly area. This place seemed pretty much knocked about but the road was intact. We joined Harwin’s group. He had one old woman whose leg had been blown off, and one Navy man with concussion when a tank hit a mine. Shortly thereafter word came through Ray that the coast road was open. We piled into Ducks and started off, passing some partially and some completely destroyed villas, and a few dead Germans lying near pillboxes. Suddenly, the cavalcade halted—a bridge gave way under a Duck. We had to retrace our passage. As we entered the town of Ste. Maxime, northeast of St. Tropez, everyone pulled in close for fear of snipers. They unloaded us on the road near a smashed garage, opposite a jetty which contained several pillboxes that had been troublesome for a while. Finally, a shell struck it, setting off munitions that lasted about two hours. At the road junction was a restaurant converted into a church, since the Germans had converted the church into a munitions dump. In the lobby we set up our aid station, and were fortunate in getting all our equipment in on the proper truck. Shortly thereafter an army man came over to tell us there were two wounded Germans in the pillbox in the jetty. We grabbed a Duck and drove over. As we were loading them aboard, a number of shots were fired at the Duck ten yards behind ours. A few of the men tumbled off, but no one was hit—one got a fractured rib. Two officers were hauled out of a pillbox and for some ungodly reason were not shot dead on the spot. We returned to the aid station. The town was empty except for a few partisans and infantry hunting snipers. Ste. Maxime is a pretty resort town with many smart hotels and villas. Our casino was built over the beach, and must have been a pretty nice place, as the postcards show. I’m now sitting in the manager’s office which I’ve taken over for myself, although I spent the first night on the porch, and was pretty cold. Shortly after the two prisoners, a third was brought in shot through the lung and in pretty bad shape. Plasma brought them around. Meanwhile, our beach began to open up, too late to evacuate to AP troop ships but too early for hospital ships. The night of D-Day was quiet. A few batches of prisoners drifted in, but nothing much. Several partisans got some rifles and carbines from the army and went ahead to clean out a German anti-tank trap that was blocking traffic. That night, thanks to the expeditiousness of the engineers, we had a meal in the bivouac area. Studded all through the countryside were posts at regular intervals which the Germans had forced the French and their prisoners to set up as anti-glider barriers. Apparently they were quite effective, as we learned later. The morning of the 16th I spent perched up on the balcony of the hotel opposite our setup, with nothing to do but watch the passing parade of vehicles. With the exception of sporadic first aid, we had little to do. I learned that the thick concrete wall along the beach was built by Russian prisoners. As the day wore on, the townspeople began to return. The women were neat, pretty and chic, but our wolves found themselves sorely disappointed. Apparently the women had learned caution, and for good reason. About 2 pm, the men in town began to round up all the gals who had consorted with Germans, and in a wine shop gave them a thorough clipping while crowds milled inside and out and photographers took pictures. I was surprised at the imperturbable attitude of the girls. They could not be described as brazen, and certainly not fearful. The only effect was when one looked into a mirror and burst into tears. It reminded me of the French Revolution, where the cutting was done a little lower and deeper, with the crowds milling around the same way. They must have worked over about two dozen women, and thus far the following day have not appeared on the streets. This morning, a large French armored force drove through and parked along the wall. They started heaving over cans of food, vegetables, jam, etc, and from nowhere hundreds of shrieking French came to taste meat for the first time in years. What they really went to town for was bread more than anything else. Last night we drove down to Riley’s villa for a shower. This had been occupied by German officers, and the place was strewn with boxes, bags and junk. There were a few uniforms, and nothing much else to find, no guns or anything. As we were ready to leave, an air raid began. Several JO88s came over, but before they had a chance to unload, Spitfires were after them and chased them off. Gradually paratroopers and glider pilots began to drift into town. They had been dropped off in the hills and encountered little opposition, but they were off course. They were under the Navy and Air Force bombardments which they say were terrific. They saw a few Germans, and a few Turks (possibly Turkman-Russian impressed troops) who were only too glad of the chance to bump off the officers. They are sure a tough looking outfit, these paratroopers. This morning there was a funeral in the church where we are located. A partisan in the hills, mistaking Americans advancing for Germans fleeing, shot one and was killed in return. The whole town turned out, and the attitude is rather a frosty one. August 18 August 20 We have settled down to an existence of waiting for time to pass. We have not made any seaward evacuations at all, due to the shortage of hospital ships. Only Red Beach was doing any evacuating, and what few wounded we had were sent there. The situation has caused a serious jam up at the 58th. I’m glad to see that there are plenty of French troops being landed. They have plenty of our equipment, and now that they are on their own territory, maybe they’ll fight just a little bit harder. August 21 August 22-30 September 10 As I went to bed, I heard the weird chant of the Zouves, the Algerian French infantrymen, marching, with their off key Arabian chants, broken every now and then by wailing; then the guttural marching song of the white French troops. A thing worth remembering. I have never seen such a traffic congestion as they had on the roads yesterday. September 11
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