July 6. 1944
This morning the Germans were tense. Since yesterday's nightfall, we had a Russian POA huddling at the foot of our hedgerow, while the Germans were standing in the entranceway with their guns aimed towards the gap in the hedgerow just over our shelter where one of their fellow soldiers already lay dead. We sensed the fighting drawing nearer; the Germans were firing mortars (one was just 25 meters from us). They continued shooting until just around 3 p.m. when a tank arrived in the woods of Brocquebeuf, just behind us. We climbed up on top of the shelter to see whose tank it was (It was an American tank with a white star). But then the German near us mounted up onto the top of our shelter, and an exchange of machine gun fire took place, at which point we plunged down into the shelter. Not even five minutes had passed before it began to rain incendiary artillery -probably shot from the tank. This started the barns on fire. The Germans and Russians were at the interior of the encampment. After several minutes of calm, there was a strong volley of mortar fire from the Americans who surrounded us. We were scared, and at that point made our act of contrition, while the dog curled up at the base of the shelter, and was then hit in the paw by shrapnel. Then, after a complete stop, it started again more fiercely than ever, setting the house on fire. We waited, with great fear, in the shelter. The Germans exited in all directions. One of the Germans in the courtyard threw down his arms and tried to join us in the shelter, and my mother, already terrorized, defended the entrance saying that only children and civilians were inside. He entered just the same and said, "Too bad mama, the war is over!" We thought that he had a cut on his wrist; he took the apron from the servant and bandaged himself. He spoke French well, and said that he was an Austrian and a machine gunner's assistant. He and the machine gunner were firing on the tank when they were hit with incendiaries, and the gunner went up in flames. The Austrian felt himself quite lucky to have escaped.

Alphonse, who avoided (STO - Service du Travail Obligatoire) spending an obligated amount of time working in a war production facility in Germany, said to me: "Look, Henri, you who saw Americans walking along the hedgerows - there aren't any. With this statement there was a GI who came straight towards our shelter. He was relieved to see a woman waving a white handkerchief while saying "French here!" The soldier asked if there were any "boches" (boe-sh (Germans|) inside. In one voice we all said "no" simultaneously. And you can bet that the Russian and the Austrian did not move an inch. With his small cutters, the GI unsuccessfully tried to cut the German communication line that passed over our shelter. We gave him our large knife to use; the knife was used to serve the bread and rabbit pate that we had to eat in the shelter. He left us saying "French - don't move," and continued his mission as a scout without doubt, machine gun in hand with finger on the trigger.
Three tanks then began shooting over the hedgerow towards the ditches along the "police path" where there were Germans. Just the same, we risked peeking out the door of our shelter to see the action. Happily no one came near the shelter. Alas!
 
Because they saw Americans, a visible liveliness was apparent amongst the ladies. I believe that they thought that the war was over and that the danger had departed. The combat was less intense. The ladies asked us to put out the house fire. We did what we could to please them, but we could not entirely extinguish the fire. (I did not initially realize that my part in this included being exposed to gunfire, but I participated to avoid being thought of as a coward). The bullets flew by, and tanks arrived via the hay fields all around us.

Going around the house to where the pigs were at, we tried to reach the pig shed because the pigs had started to burn. We opened the door to evacuate the pigs, whose back hairs were singed. We arrived at the back of the house; two American soldiers with their machine gun poised to shoot suddenly appeared from behind a tank. They addressed us by saying, "French? You cannot remain in your shelter. You must go, because there are still Germans in the house." We left as a party of four. The soldier said, "Come with us to help carry the wounded to the rear." Without any argument, we left, I and my father carried a wounded soldier; he was in bad shape. He groaned and asked us to write his mother. We traversed the field carrying the soldier under the whistling of bullets. 1 wanted to go faster, but we were told to go slowly and carefully. Finally we arrived at the woods putting down the stretcher; it was finished.

My stepbrother and I signaled to the Americans that there were two Germans in the shelter with the women. And then, with two soldiers, we returned to the shelter to oversee the capture of the Germans, who, quite unresistingly, surrendered with their hands in the air.

Night arrived, and although we were packed in our shelter like sardines, 1 slept like a log. (knowing that all was over, and that it ended well certainly aided my deep sleep).

July 7. 1944
Alas, it was not finished. Otherwise it would have been too good to be true. The first words that I heard came from Alphonse. "There is a Kraut sleeping in the fig tree," he said. He winked his eye at me and said, "here we go." Quietly we moved towards him. He slept soundly. Alphonse raised his gun, and I his grenades. We then threw the grenades over the hay at the Kraut. In retrospect, we asked ourselves what we were doing. We then went to find the Americans who were stationed at the edge of the woods, and told them what happened. Their response was, "It was necessary to kill him. We couldn't have come to help." We were both wrapped in bedclothes. Two soldiers approached. Parachutists. They had an "AA" insignia on their shoulders, and they asked the officer what we were doing. We understood that they were going to go there with us. They accompanied us, and then put their pistol to the throat of the German, and then carried him away. The rest of the day passed uneventfully. No more Germans - they all left! Some paratrooper patrols had a drink of cider with us. Two of them came and took some German things - radios, weapons, and other diverse materials.

We felt free once again.

July 8, 1944
We counted the German dead: 7 were burned in the house, and 33 were within a 20-meter range of the house.

At about 10 a.m., the 8th Division relieved the 82nd Airborne.

At 11 a.m., we assisted the assault on Calpiquet (cal pick ay), where the front was at.

For us, it was over...

Hooray GI's!