which has had no equal in military history.
There were not many people who approached the beaches in Normandy on June 6/7 1944 not once, or twice, or three times, but four times during the first crucial hours of D-Day. The job of Captain Michael Previté, Royal Marines, was to guide a flotilla of 12 landing craft onto the beach codenamed GOLD.
At his home at Oughterard Capt Previté had a vivid memory of that day. What struck him most was how very well organised the whole operation was. As he led the way towards the shore his first approach was in darkness, shortly before dawn. He recognised in silhouette the landscape before him. It coincided exactly with the intensive briefings he had received in the days prior to his departure.
The biggest problem was not, surprisingly, the shells from the enemy guns, it was disembarking the men from the ship HMS Glenroy, into the landcraft which had been lowered on to the sea. Although the storm of June 4/5 was calming there was at least a 12ft swell. It was not the calm waters that the planners had assumed.
“The trick was to unhook both ends of the boat at the same time. The men would scramble down the net ladders and although they had all taken their sea-sickness tablets some of them were fearfully sick.”
Once the 12 boats were filled they set off for the shore three miles away, Capt Previté leading. Previously frogmen had placed lights facing out to sea, to mark their course. Once past the last flashing light, the flotilla had to spread out to avoid a queue or a bottleneck on the beach.
Once the soldiers were safely ashore, Capt Previte backed out his boat and returned to the mothership for more troops.
D-Day plus one
On his second approach the Germans were awake and firing. “But quite honestly I was concentrating so hard on my job I really didn’t notice the fire.”
With the second load of men safely deposited the flotilla returned to the mothership, this time winched on board, and returned to Southampton to refill with men. The next day, June 7, Capt Previte repeated exactly the same procedure.
He was surprised there were not more casualties. He could see the stakes sticking out of the water with mines on top. He fully appreciated the decision to approach the beaches at low tide so that these very dangerous obstacles were visible.
Hit a mine
On the second day everything went smoothly. Completing his two journeys ashore, his flotilla was again winched on board. As it set off, however, it struck a mine, and grounded.
Every man made his way ashore as best he could. They had to hitch a life from other ships back to England.
Arriving back at base Capt Previté was delighted to learn that he had a few days' leave. He immediately set out for Dublin, and the train to Galway, hitching a lift to his home at Drimcong, Moycullen.
He had married Rosamund Hodgson, who was living at Drimcong, helping Michael’s father run the farm. Both his wife and parents had been listening to the news, on full blast, and following the invasion as best they could. They knew Michael was involved. They could not believe it when they saw him walk down the avenue.
After the war
After the D-Day landings, Michael was appointed to the Admiralty staff, and sent to Australia to train men for landings from the sea. He presumed it was probably in preparation for an invasion of Japan. However, after the atomic bomb it was all over. He returned to London and demobbed. His wife recalled seeing him walk in the door at Drimcong, but this time in a new brown suit, a gift from His Majesty’s government.
This suit became a fondly remembered token for both of them. “It was good quality material,” said Rosamund, “and it lasted years and years.”
NOTE: After the war, Michael and Rosamund operated a successful chicken farm, and were a familiar couple driving about Connemara selling eggsz. They ran Screebe House as a tourist and angling hotel, until their retirement.
Michael Previté was mentioned in dispatches, and awarded the Croix de Guerre from a grateful French nation.
Some amusing memories
Lord Michael Killanin, Spiddal House, Co Galw