3 Brothers,
3 Telegrams
The story mirrors the saga of Frederic, Edward, Robert
and Preston Niland from the Buffalo area of upstate New York.
“Frederic ‘Fritzie’ Niland was
with the 101st Airborne Division dropped in the Saint Mere Eglise area
of Normandy early on D-Day,” says Green.
Edward Niland went missing at
about the same time when his plane fell behind Japanese lines in Burma.
“Here are the two other brothers,”
says Green, pointing to two crosses side by side, engraved Robert and Preston
Niland.
They are one of 38 pairs of
brothers buried in the cemetery overlooking the windswept, deceptively
calm beach where more than 2,000 young Americans fell in just a few hours
on D-Day.
They were cut down by murderous,
near point blank fire as they clambered ashore.
Veterans have recounted how
some of the wounded were crushed to death by their own tanks as they lay
on the beach.
Hundreds never made it out of
the water, and the wrecked barges in which they died can be made out by
moonlight at low tide.
Robert Niland, a sergeant in
the 82nd Airborne Division, was killed on D-Day near the Saint Mere Eglise
area while Preston, a second lieutenant with the Fourth Infantry Division,
was killed nearby by a sniper on the following day.
It was said their mother received
three telegrams in a single day advising her of their fates.
The War Department sent urgent
orders for Private Frederic Niland to be be located in the war zone and
brought home.
“The mission was given to Chaplain
Francis Sampson who found him and gave him the news. He would not go. ‘If
my brothers are here, I’m not going to leave them,”‘ Niland reportedly
said.
Sampson, later head of the Army
Corps of Chaplains with the rank of Major-General, finally bundled “Fritzie”
out of the combat zone to England. He died in 1983, aged 63.
“Miraculously, Edward also survived.
He emerged, emaciated and half-dead from a Japanese prison camp after the
war.”
As Green speaks, a group of
Americans listen, spellbound.
A Veteran
Returns
“There are many Americans but we get all others too:
English and plenty of Germans.” The figures may dramatically increase next
month when the film is released in France, making those closest to the
site potential visitors.
The area is dotted with memorials
including one for “Big Red One,” the 1st Infantry Division at which current
members of the unit now based in Germany held a small ceremony.
“We’re from 201 Forward Support
Battalion of One-Eye-Dee (1st Infantry Division) and we’ve come to honor
the history and lineage of our unit,” explains Lieutenant Colonel Tom Schneider
of Arlington, Texas.
A bugler sounds a poignant “Taps,”
the U.S. military’s tribute to its dead, as a color party presents arms,
the Stars and Stripes flapping into the wind.
Schneider lays a wreath at the
memorial on the bluffs overlooking the Channel before heading to the cemetery,
American ground ceded for perpetuity by a grateful France.
The French government also bought
the land around the cemetery to prevent construction within sight.
The cemetery’s staff of 26 gives
special attention to veterans like 73-year-old John Savard of St. Paul,
Minn., back for the first time since being wounded nearby on June 21, 1944.
“I’m still carrying German shrapnel
in the center of my chest after 54 years,” says Savard, who saw Private
Ryan shortly after its release in the United States.
“It was hard to watch even after
all this time. … I had a hard time with the parts at the cemetery at the
opening and the end,” says the retired postal worker.
The film helped prompt him to
seek the graves of Woodrow Hill and Jacob Horowitz, comrades from G Company,
38th Infantry, Second Infantry Division, killed by the same mortar shell
which wounded him.
He also wrote a poem, “Visiting
an American Cemetery,” which he mailed to Spielberg. “But I didn’t have
the right address and it came back.”
Savard chokes as he reaches
Hill’s grave. “All these years … 54 years and he’s been here ever since.
It’s hard.”
Copyright 1998 Reuters. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.