The whole world watched on June 6th, 1944 as over 150,000 Allied troops stormed the beaches of Normandy. It was the largest amphibious invasion in history, and the fate of the planet would be determined by its outcome.
In a world before 24-hour cable news, people everywhere were glued to their radios as they scanned the newest newspaper editions for updates. Specifics were hard to come by, for obvious reasons – press censorship, operational secrecy, and technological limitations prevented the kind of play-by-play coverage Americans received when watching the invasions of Iraq near-real time in 1991 and later in 2003. With so much uncertainty, people filled the pins and needles hours with talk, conjecture, work, and prayer. In an extra-long Presidency full of memorable speeches, one of FDR’s most poignant and impactful was his invasion prayer, which he read aloud on the radio. Given the magnitude of the undertaking in western Europe, the prayer was six minute long, and took up large swaths of front page invasion coverage, like in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch below:
Elmer, who was not much of a churchgoer before, during, or after the War, followed the President’s lead in praying for “a peace invulnerable to the schemings of unworthy men. And a peace that will let all of men live in freedom, reaping the just rewards of their honest toil.” He reacted to the news in a June 8th letter to his parents, specifically addressing his thoughts to his dad (even though his mother was undoubtedly just as invested in the breaking news as her husband). “Well Dad, the news came out the other day about out invasion of France. And it is what the world’s been waiting for. A cause to rejoice and mostly one for prayer. So many men involved and as always many must be lost to this world. God grant that our men may have a speedy victory with a minimum of bloodshed.” Elmer also wrote that he believed “our cause is surely a just one” and that “this is the beginning of the end for Hitler and all he stands for.” He concluded his letter with a little added flourish to his usual “chins up!” plea: “But now you must keep those chins up with faith and courage. That’s how I want to think of you.”
Elmer’s mother, who would not receive this letter until much later, was not mollified and apparently feared that her son was involved or otherwise subject to the invasion’s downstream effects. “You shouldn’t be uneasy about me due to the invasion of France,” he wrote imploringly. “Our soldiers are the boys that must do their job now. So you just keep your spirits up because it can’t last much longer.” Elmer’s other letters late in June seem to reflect his newfound optimism. Anxious prayers over the fate of the invasion gave way to pronouncements over Germany’s all-but-certain defeat. Like many other at the time, Grandpa seemed to embrace hopeful predictions that the war would be over within a year or less, even as the Allied solders then in France slowly hacked their way through Normandy’s Panzer-infested hedgerows. “Surely the Japs and the Nazi’s realize it is a matter of time,” he mused on the 25th. Of course, as events in the spring and summer of 1945 would show, realizing that a war’s outcome was inevitable was not the same thing as having the courage, wherewithal, or support to actually do something about ending it.
For once, Elmer’s almost rote claims that there was no news to report seemed in retrospect true. The Mink was still in Seeadler Harbor, everyone was still do their jobs, and there was still nothing to do on shore. On the 25th he reported seeing and enjoying A Lady Takes a Chance, but there was little else worth noting. Most of the discussion revolved around the folks back at home: Shirley Ryder enjoyed the compact his mother bought her on his behalf for her birthday on the 22nd; Rose Schmid received a promotion at work; his friend from back home, Legs, was now in India; and Bud Tanner bought his father’s old house on Itaska Street. But Grandpa did an enticing update at the end of the month: “[I have] hopes for some decent liberty and recreation soon.” After nearly half a year at sea or in anchorage outside of undeveloped ports, Elmer was looking forward to a break. Even if the end of the war was on the horizon.
In the weeks and months following D-Day the world appeared to be moving once again. Lives put on hold for years at a time would soon resume. He maintained to both his mother and to his sister Irene that he was happy to remain a bachelor for the duration of the War, but civilian life would bring new opportunities for social – and permanent – companionship. “[Just] wait till I get back and round up all my women,” Elmer wrote teasingly to his sister. But if his letters to Rose and his experience with Pat were any indication, he would ultimately have to disappoint some – or all – of his suitorettes. That would not be easy.
As it turned out, D-Day was the beginning of the end of the European War. A lot of hard fighting awaited the Allies in the months ahead, but fears that the Americans, British, and Canadians would be hurled back into the sea quickly dissipated. The eastward tide was inexorable, relentless, and it would not stop until it reached the heart of Germany.
Meanwhile, in the Pacific, many future mini-D-Days were to come as the United States hopped closer and closer to the crown jewel of Japan’s island empire, Honshu. Yet one key climactic moment, the request of the Philippines, was now on the horizon that summer. Like with D-Day, that battle would be an all-hands-on-deck situation, and the Mink would play a role as well.