On D-Day, June 6, 1944, 19-year-old Coast Guard Gunner’s Mate Frank DeVita manned a Higgins boat in the first wave at Omaha Beach. He made 15 trips ferrying troops in and bringing out the wounded and dead over 18 brutal hours.
In one moment that haunted him: A soldier’s helmet blown off by machine gun fire, part of his brain gone. The young man lay dying at Frank’s feet, crying “help me.”
No morphine. All Frank could do was hold his hand, start the Lord’s Prayer, and let him know he wasn’t alone as he passed.
Frank kept the horror inside for 70 years, then spoke for the brothers who never made it home. He passed in 2022 at 96.
This is the Greatest Generation. Real men. Real sacrifice. We remember. 🇺🇸
Ray’s Rock - Omaha Beach
On the morning of June 6, 1944, 23 year old Staff Sergeant Arnold “Ray” Lambert came ashore with the first wave of the 1st Infantry Division on the eastern side of Omaha Beach. At this small patch of concrete he saved nearly 20 lives:
The division came under intense fire from several German bunkers surrounding the entrance to the Colville Draw (one of two exits off Omaha Beach). Ray, a medic, immediately went to work.
He was shot in the arm. Moments later he was hit by shrapnel in the leg, but Ray kept pulling men to safety. He pulled nearly 20 wounded soldiers to cover behind this 8ft wide obstacle, treating each soldier before going out in search of others.
After several hours under fire, while pulling a wounded soldier from the ocean, he was struck by a landing craft. It dropped its ramp on top of him, breaking his back. He fell face down in the water, drowning. The craft backed up and nearby soldiers pulled an unconscious Ray to safety, eventually evacuating him off the beach.
Remarkably, Ray had already earned two Silver Stars and three Purple Hearts in Sicily and North Africa, prior to landing in France. But here in Normandy his war would end.
He awoke in a hospital back in England a day later. In the next bed over was his brother, who had also been wounded at Omaha.
When asked about his work on D-Day, Ray simply said, “I did what I was called to do.”
Ray Lambert passed in 2021 at 100 years old. He exemplified the best of American grit and why remembering this day is so important.
He was still in bed when the bombs started falling. He dragged a .50-caliber machine gun into an open parking lot at Kaneohe Bay and held his position for two and a half hours — taking 21 wounds before anyone could convince him to leave.
December 7, 1941. Naval Air Station Kaneohe Bay, Oahu, Hawaii.
Chief Aviation Ordnanceman John William Finn was asleep when Japanese aircraft struck. He grabbed a .50-caliber machine gun, hauled it to an open parking ramp where he had a clear field of fire, and opened up. Wave after wave of Japanese planes strafed the station. Finn shot back through all of it. Shrapnel and gunfire struck him 21 separate times. Only by direct order was he persuaded to leave for treatment. After first aid, he returned to the flight line and supervised the rearming of returning American aircraft.
Chief Finn was awarded the Medal of Honor — the first awarded in World War II.
John William Finn was born July 24, 1909, in Compton, California. He enlisted in the Navy at age 17 and served 28 years before retiring. He lived to be 100 years old, passing away May 27, 2010 — one of the last surviving Medal of Honor recipients from Pearl Harbor, and at the time the oldest living recipient of the decoration.
In HBO’s The Pacific, Gunnery Sergeant John “Manila John” Basilone becomes a legend during the brutal night fighting on Guadalcanal. 🪖
🧵The real story behind that machine gun stand is even more extraordinary.
This is Lance Corporal Garland Ray ‘Buddy’ Mann.
20 years old.
Watch this video for a minute and you’ll notice something.
He doesn’t look like a history book.
He looks like a kid.
A kid who should’ve had another 50 years ahead of him.
Buddy was killed in action shortly after this interview.
Every now and then it’s worth remembering that the freedoms we argue about online were often paid for by young men who never got the chance to come home and argue with us.
Semper Fi, Buddy.