SSS Saturday, October 28, 1944 1 ## Letters From Written under the strain of front line battle conditions these np) titers, ue of a series to be concluded in our next issue, vividly 2 it prtray thoughts of a soldier in his first action “tes oe é pe - By Val Bjarnason Cie : “RR MARE: June 15, 1944 of 4 al Ds was. going to say Thursday evening—but Hell, I can’t remember what day of the week a mth it is, and in any case I’m not allowed to tell you. The big thine is that it was my D ‘ib T gassed. Hisenhower’s by a hair’s breadth—so let’s say its “early in June’”—“somewhere in se? —eh ? bey (What a bitter disappointment it was to miss D day itself—when I was so close to making: it. ed been my life’s ambition for these last years—but I’m here now, that’s the main thing. a won't bore you with the details of the crossing and landing-—though they are still and will igs be thrillme memories for us. But the BBC has just described them so vividly that you iy ein the picture” more than I am. You will be seeing it in news reels any day. is was lucky to get a couple of days to orient myself and my troop before taking the plunge. Wyirou can guess how I felt, taking over a strange troop just before battle, especially when Siehad seen action—and on D day. It was a helluva struggle to maintain any confidence in face tuese “veterans.” All day long I listened to their hair-raising stories; how I had a 50 percent e of surviving my first action, ete——and what the 88’s would do when I got hit. It wasn’t ms [ aring: to say the least. — Sut by the time I had heard the same stories about 50 times about the first couple of days ‘amine in Normandy—each time more exaggerated than the next—I turned a deaf ear. It was -Wenly way. Id see for myself. It wasn’t so bad once I’d made up my mind. then came the “@” group. Breathlessly I listened to every word—it was to be a big push— al diyasions. The recce and intelligence reports seemed to cover every detail, what units be fightine—and all their weapons and positions. Confidence grew by leaps and bounds “‘it’s 3 bag” I kept tellmge myself. : 'Ve bustled about yesterday, trying not to appear too nervous and excited, putting every detail der, checking and double checking; studying the maps and marvellous aerial photographs. didn’t sleep much last night—unluckily we moved off early—the suspense was killing. fis our tanks waited in the forminge-up area my head was fairly pounding. Excitement, ap- @nsion, trying to remember the text book—fire orders. tactics, fear, then a struggle to over- )s it—followed by vivid memories of our own wounded and killed I'd seen yesterday and the lan prisoners—hate and determination gained in the struggle for priority in my throbbing . Yes, “I’d do O.K., Wd kill these bastards,” I’d say to myself. It was a helluva strain—but ‘s the greatest moment in my life. At last I was here—on my first starting line. fore in No. 2—Val. a £ u ue y af Jear Mark: 08 °m continuing from page one. o © \fter years and years of trying to find ways and means of fighting Fascism, here I was «race u@ce with them—and just over that hill ahead, ia the order ants at last “driver advance’—we were off! The next few hours were hell. We all keyed but nothing happened for six hours! QOur infantry all around and just ahead of us "aa fichtine like hell at times—then held up. And then we sat helpless—unable to lend them a : That was the hardest part—hours of tension— nothing to relieve it. 5 1 hot hissed by, far too close for comfort. Instinctively I moved to another spot. ane BO Oa See from. So we had to sit tight—looking, frantically searching for ye been in action. And besides, on my first day I was being ee ae te ee “ felt prdud to be chosen, I had confidence and I looked forward to it. IfWe helped the infantry clear out the snipers and machine-guns. It was a thrill to blast them ijt the houses. : ee pee oe Psu: nk was hit. A sheet of flame smoke an ebris- ut it was only HE. eS pee ee at, wo casualties. What a day. As night fell we went back to get gassed up, ‘8: ammunition and a cup of tea. I was on guard ail night, but I can sleep for a bit today under : tank T had to get this off my chest first though. I feel like a new man now, Mark, a little i cocky maybe, because I was lucky today. But it’s a wonderful feeling to actually want to go }Much that hell tomorrow. There’s nothing like it. SANTA: VAL BJARNASON } Lt. Val Bjarnason, a graduate of John Oliver High School, attended UBC while working as a technician for Connaught laboratories. Born in Wynyard, Sask., he came to the coast with his family when he was 16 years old and spent the next seven years in Vancouver. Val is well-known in progressive youth circles here as president of the U.B.C. branch of the Canadian Student Assembly for two years, as well as holding various execu- tive positions with the Vancouver Youth Counal. He was at one time provincial vice-president of the B.C. Youth Congress. Pour years ago he left Vancouver to do laboratory research work in Montreal. He was the first president of the English section of the Montreal ILaborYouth Federation. Always an anti-fascist, and an ardent worker for peace, he realized that stable peace could never be won until Hitler- ism is defeated. He enlisted in the active army and after basic training at Camp Borden, took officer's training at Gordon Head. A few months more in Eastern Canada in the Canadian armored corps and he was sent to England te train for D day. He fought in Normandy and is the only surviving troop commander of his original squadron. For six weeks he slept either in his tank or in a foxhole beside it: and his tank was the first to rumble through Caen itself. In August he was sent to England for special training and is now back with his unit in Holland, this time attached to Headquarters. His wife, Madelaine Parent, is one of the few women trade union organizers in Quebec province. Val is one of a family of seven children whose parents, Mr. and Mrs. Paul Bjarnason reside at 2997 West 2nd Avenue, Vancouver. A brother, Warrant Officer Arlan Byjarnason, has recently completed his tour of operations over enemy territory as navigator of a lancaster bomber. evasive meeteonms<