Bob Frascotti never made it to the beaches of Normandy, yet he was a veteran of that invasion. He was one of the first to die that day.
Just four months past his 21st birthday, Bob—known as Scotty—was to fly one of the first missions of the day. His fellow pilots recall his “superb” singing voice, reminiscent of Vaughan Monroe, and his rendition of “Racing With the Moon.” A fellow pilot from that fateful morning recalled with some grim irony that clouds scudding across the face of the moon that morning may have robbed Scotty of a few vital seconds of visibility that literally meant life or death.
The night before, ground crews of the Eighth Air Force’s 352nd Fighter Group hastily painted their pristine ships with white and black invasion stripes. “Breakfast” was at 2200 on the 5th, with the briefing set for midnight. The “Blue-nosed Bastards of Bodney” were then informed that D-Day had truly begun. Their mission was to fly aerial cover for the landing forces to protect them from air attacks. The 486th Fighter Squadron, Bob’s unit, would be the first to launch at 0230 and he was assigned to the second section of four.
It was Scotty’s 89th mission. Night operations were unfamiliar to the group, which was used to protecting bombers on daylight raids over the continent. Their field, at RAF Bodney, England, USAAF Station 141, was grass. It’s lack of a well-defined illuminated runway compounded a pilot’s issues as the turf blended into the night sky like “black velvet.” A string of temporary lights had been laid, but one of the taxiing Mustangs had snagged and broken the power cable. The pilots had no recourse but to position and orient themselves as best they could in the drizzle and darkness.
An armorer, Sergeant Jim Bleidner, watched as the red and green position lights on the wings bumped in the night as the planes moved from the dispersal area to their take-off position near the tower on the western edge of the field. A new, second tower was under construction at the east end of the field, directly in the path of their take-off.
Frascotti’s plane, with a pale, weather-worn blue nose, was P-51B-5-NA, 43-6685, named Umbriago. This could be a corruption of the Italian word umbriaco, which means ‘drunk.’ More likely, however, it was taken from the 1944 song Umbriago by Jimmy Durante about a dear friend by that name. The lyrics end: “So when you feel low, better send for my friend, Umbriago.”
The flight lead, Lieutenant Martin Corcoran, turned his fighter into the wind and taxied forward a few feet. Without knowing, he was slightly to the right of the intended take-off line. Using the flame from his exhausts—described by Bleidner as “tiger’s teeth”—as a guide the other three slotted into position. At Corcoran’s command, all four fully laden Mustangs waddled forward in the dark, slowly gaining speed. To fly, the fighters needed an indicated airspeed of 150 mph.
Lieutenant Bud Fuhrman, to Bob’s right, held his craft down as it gained speed. Lieutenant Charles Griffiths, trailing slightly, thought his plane was “glued to the ground.” From his position, he could see the lights of Corcoran’s plane that indicated he was airborne, Then those of Furman, also up. Frascotti, however, off to his left, were slightly lower. Then, at near flying speed, Umbriago slammed into the unlighted unfinished control tower.
The unit’s history described the aftermath: “An enormous smear of fire, spewing like dragon’s bile, burned over the tower balcony and flared malevolently onwards as the aircraft disintegrated.” Bob Frascotti was no more.
Griffiths pushed on, his plane still on the ground, but eventually making into the air somehow after striking a net post on sister 328th FS’s volleyball court. In the 328th’s briefing room nearby, a blinding flash lit the area followed by a concussion and flying .50-caliber bullets as Bob’s ammunition cooked off in the flames.
The rest of the group took flight guided by the flickering flames of Umbriago.
Seventy-five years ago young Americans and their Allies took
a big gamble with the largest invasion force ever assembled. On 6 June 1944,
they stormed ashore to gain first a toe-hold, then a foot-hold, and then more
on the European continent and bring the ground war to Nazi Germany.
6 June 1944, Normandy
While their actions and sacrifices cannot and should not be
minimized, their tenuous clutches at the beach and later their forays through
the boccage of northern France could not have be accomplished without support
in additional men and material. Much logistical planning—some have said even
more so than that of the invasion—occurred in the months leading up to the
landings.
One of the primary concerns of the planners was that there
were few quickly obtainable ports in the north of France. Cherbourg was
captured early, by the end of July, but its port facilities had been
comprehensively destroyed and booby-trapped. Antwerp, Belgium, was captured on
4 September, but its wasn’t opened until the end of November after the Germans
were pushed from its approaches. Boulogne and Calais were not opened until
October and November, respectively. So without the prospect of decent port
facilities, planners decided to bring their own.
Two synthetic harbors—named Mulberries—were planned for the
Normandy beaches. Mulberry A was to be set up off the American’s Omaha Beach
and Mulberry B was created for the British off Gold Beach. These had to
accommodate the large tidal fluctuation on the beaches while providing a
minimum of 18 feet of water for supply ships and transports and direct
offloading to the shore. The solution was a set of floating piers connected to
shore by a series of floating steel bridge segments.
The Mulberries consisted of a number of literally moving parts—including curiously named Corncobs, Gooseberries, Bombardons, Lobnitzs, Phoenixes, Whales, and Beetles—all of which required time for planning, design, construction, movement into position for the invasion. Construction consisted of 23 Lobnitz pierheads, 10 miles of road bridge comprising 660 80-foot spans (Whales), 670 floats (Beetles) to support the bridges, 8 shore ramps, 50 Bombardon floating breakwaters, 61 blockships (Corncobs), and 213 concrete Phoenix caissons. In all, 210,000 tons of steel and one million tons of concrete were used in the construction.
The major parts of a Mulberry harbor are shown.The plan for Mulberry A was never completed because of the three-day gale starting on 19 June and the loss of many of its components at sea during the storm while in transit to the beach.Mulberry B as completed.
Three different types of breakwaters were provided to
shelter the piers, bridges, and ships.
Bombardons were farthest from the beach and were connected
to each other by hemp ropes and anchored to form a mile-long deep-water
breakwater for ships to anchor as they waited their turn to unload or the tide
to be right. These curious 200-foot-long by 25-foot wide and tall 1,500-ton objects
were used in water too deep for the other breakwaters to function. They were
hollow watertight steel constructions in the form of an equal-armed cross. In
the water they floated with the horizontal arms just beneath the English
Channels surface. Omaha used 24, while Gold had 26.
The bombardons float with about six feet of their surface exposed.Six bombardons under construction in a British drydock.Bombardons off Gold Beach are highlighted.
The second tier of breakwaters was constructed from concrete caissons—called Phoenixes—of six different sizes, sunk in water of 5.5 fathoms or less, displacing between 6,044 and 1,672 tons. These were designed and built to provide the Mulberry’s primary protection. The Phoenixes—the largest 204-feet long and 56-feet wide—were sunk in position end to end. Mulberry A was to have 47. They got their name from the fact that after construction they were sunk and then later refloated for the invasion.
Two Phoenixes are shown, both equipped with antiaircraft artillery. The one at right is sunken to its operating depth.Phoenixes off the coast of Omaha Beach await their placement.Five lines of Phoenixes are highlighted in this image of Mulberry B on 27 August 1944.
The third tier, called a Gooseberry, was placed in relatively shallow water—2.5 fathoms or less—to provide shelter for smaller craft. Each consisted of a number of Corncobs, blockships prepared in Scotland by cutting holes in bulkheads of surplus ships and placing scuttling charges below their waterlines. Gooseberries, numbered 1 through 5, were assembled off each of the five invasion beaches. The number of ships in each varied by the needs of the beach. In number order from Utah (10 ships) were: Omaha (15), Gold (16), Juno (11), and Sword (9).
Sunken corncobs in form a gooseberry in one of the Mulberries.The line of corncobs in the center foreground shape a gooseberry of Gold Beach.
The harbor facilities consisted of floating pierheads connected to the shore by a system of floating bridges and roadways. The Lobnitz spud pierheads were 1,760-ton barges 200-feet long by 60-feet wide, which were positioned and anchored to the seabed by four 89-foot long legs—called spuds—at each corner. When positioned, the spuds were lowered to the sand and forced down until they could move no further. This firmly anchored the pierhead and allowed it to ride up and down the spuds with the movement of the 24-foot tide. Ships unloaded their cargoes directly to the pierhead.
The pierheads had to be positioned far enough from shore so
that they could be used by ships at low tide. Thus, they needed similar
floating roadways. The answer was found in the Whales and Beetles.
This diagram shows both low and high tides and their effect on both the pierheads and the whales and beetles. Note the relationship between the pierhead and its spuds.
Whales were 80-foot-long steel girder bridge sections supported at both ends by floats called Beetles. The beetles accommodated the tidal fluctuations and provided a firm base for the bridges when the tide was out. Expansion whales were inserted in the chain at intervals and connected the chain to a pier. These adjusted for the change in length as the tide rose or fell.
One whale and its two beetles.Lines of four sets of whales are highlighted at Mulberry B on 27 August 1944.75 years on, a bridge over the Moselle River near Cattenom, France, still uses five spans of whales used during the Normandy invasion. [Source: Foxandpotatoes]
At Omaha, the task of assembling the Lobnitz, whales, and beetles was assigned to the 108th Naval Construction Battalion of the 25th Naval Construction Regiment. They began their work on 9 June and received its first ship— LST-342—at 1400 on the 16th.
Over the next 3 days, 15
LCTs and 22 LSTs delivered 1,168 vehicles to the beach until a nor’easter from 18–22
June—the worst June gale in more than 40 years—destroyed the pierhead and
bridging units. They were not placed back into service after the storm.
The gale wreaked havoc with the American Mulberry while the British port fared much better. Some reports indicate that the U.S. facilities were not as well anchored as the British, but what was more significant is that Gold Beach had a natural protection in the Calvados reef. Because a number of Mulberry A’s sections were lost in the Channel during the storm, the American Mulberry was abandoned.
Some of the damage at the American port.
Portions of A were salvaged and used by the British for what they now called “Port Winston.” It remained in use for a full six months until the opening of the port of Antwerp.
“Port Winston” in full operation.
How effective were the Mulberries?
The Americans were not very impressed. While their loss of its facilities to the gale may color this thinking somewhat, numbers don’t lie. The Yankees—by design at Utah and by chance at Omaha—were forced to land their reinforcements and supplies primarily by LSTs.
A line of LSTs at Omaha Beach.
At the American beaches,
6,614 tons of cargo was landed in the first three days. A month later, they handled
9,200 tons. A month after that, they were off-loading 16,000 tons per day. The
Mulberry harbors, however, provided less than half the total even on good
weather days from the start.
The crowded beachhead had some aerial protection in the form of barrage ballons.
Average Daily Tonnage of Supplies Landed
Beach/Port
D+30
D+60
Omaha
1,200
10,000
Utah
8,000
6,000
Total U.S. beaches
9,200
16,000
Mulberry B
6,750
6,750
Planners had obviously
underrated the capacities of open beaches and the utility of the LST. The
tremendous tonnage capacities developed at the American beaches must have been
one of the most surprising and welcomed features of the entire invasion.
Landing Ship, Tank (LST)
Arguably the most important ship type involved in Operation Neptune, these ships were among the most robust and versatile types put into service during the war. Their enormous capacity—each could transport an equivalent of 18 M4 Sherman tanks, 160 troops, and an LCT (landing craft, tank)—combined with the ability to put equipment and troops directly on a beach made them invaluable. Further, despite being called by irreverent crewmembers as “Large Slow (or Stationary) Targets,” they suffered few losses throughout the whole war—26 to enemy action and 13 to accidents and weather—compared to their number and wide-spread heavy combat operations.
