A World War 11 Unforgettable Experience
Ash Rothlein
I was a soldier during World War 11. Our company was an advanced ordnance field unit closely following the invasion of the Normandy beaches of France on June 6, 1944. Once the shores were secured the allied forces fought their way slowly inland over the next several weeks.
One pre-dawn day my buddies and I were startled out of our slit trenches. The deafening roar of studded formations of American heavy bombers filled the sky. We were told there were three thousand aircraft, the greatest array of air power ever displayed during the war. We cheered until we were hoarse. They were on a surprise raid to break the impasse of the German stronghold in the city of St. Lo. The success of that mission became the springboard for the armies to make major rapid advances toward Paris.
Shortly
after the raid, our company commander directed us to break camp immediately. We
were urgently called to lead a convoy of armored vehicles and munitions
supplies to our frontline troops moving ahead. I was assigned to ride in the
point vehicle, an uncovered 6x6 truck, awaiting a new canvas. It was a drab, unusually cold, rainy afternoon. I envied all those who rode in sheltered
vehicles.
All twenty of us huddled together against the biting wind. Standing firm, we held on to the rails and open roof supports. Our driver rumbled along the hilly, potholed roads. Rounding a curve and heading up a steep incline, I saw, far in the distance through the mist and rain, a sprawling village cresting atop a craggy hill. Below and behind us was our convoy of one hundred forty-odd vehicles following in unison with a steady engine roar.
As we approached the village at dusk, I was dumbstruck by the unfolding scene. Every church bell tolled nonstop. The citizens lined both sides of the road, waving and cheering as one. Their reaction was a spontaneous explosion of energy, joy, and tears. They were oblivious to the cold, windy rain. Our driver slowed. We were spellbound and overcome with this gratuitous reception. With the sight of our massive convoy approaching, they realized they were indeed liberated. They threw flowers and food toward us. We responded with cigarettes and candy. We pumped our fists with tears of joy. Every child, woman, farmer, and worker reached out to us as we edged our way through the village.
Needless to say, we were so energized by this once-in-a-lifetime experience that we rode the rest of the night to our destination without a grumble about the weather. We each quietly absorbed, in our own way, the fullness of this spontaneous happening.
Burned into my soul to this day is the eye contact I had with all those beautiful French citizens. Their relief and gratitude at finally being freed from their Nazi oppressors spoke volumes to me as to why it was an honor to serve during that war. It was indeed an unparalleled and unforgettable treasured moment of communion with people of another culture, forever reminding me that we are all one, where love abounds. ----Ash Rothlein
The story above is the first one Ash wrote in my class. He later wrote about Normandy Beach, and our local newspaper ran a full-page write-up featuring photos of him in his uniform, which still fit.
Ash lived to be 97 and made the return to Normandy Beach, which had become his goal after writing so much about the war. He financially supported a war memorial in Bedford, Virginia, for WWII veterans.
The link below explains why Ash Rothlein is remembered and what he did in the last decade of his life.
https://www.dday.org/2022/01/28/rothlein/
I was honored when Ash asked me to write a poem and read it at the statue's dedication, but I couldn't go to Virginia and was sorry to miss his big day.
A video of Ash talking about the war and returning home.
