As usual, it was a case of “hurry up and wait”.As it was a hot day, I retired to a coil of rope, put my back against it and fell asleep. When I awoke, the place was deserted, except for a few ever-present military police. After a moment of panic, I realised that everyone had embarked I had no idea which of the half dozen ships they were on. Then there were cigarettes and a device called a Tommy, a portable stove that burned solidified meths. I don’t recall if we were given any matches to light the cooker.

It culminated in the issue of our invasion “compo” rations: two 24-hour packs parcelled in greaseproofed cardboard boxes. They contained chewing gum, boiled sweets, three bars of chocolate, tea blocks, meat concentrate and compressed porridge. In addition, we received a tin of bully beef, more chewing gum, water-sterilising outfits and bags in case of vomit. There were many who thought him lucky to be out of the invasion. Shelley was asked jokingly to repeat the performance several times. Ironically, he was the first man to be killed in the unit nine days later.The next day was spent exchanging kit and replacing deficiencies. An impromptu football kick-about quickly started, in the course of which, a large Irish gunner named Shelley took a flying tackle His opponent ended up on the ground with a broken ankle.

With my co-operator, I was attached to an HAA – heavy anti-aircraft – battery that was destined to be the assault unit providing AA – anti-aircraft – protection on the beach head.We were accommodated in tents on Broadhalfpenny Down. Then came the goodies – bars of chocolate, a doughnut or two Believe me, these were rare treats in those days. More conversation, then the whistle sounded as the train pulled away, en route to the South Coast.Word spread, and the subsequent trains had quite a schoolboys’ welcome. The station staff then made us leave the area and we watched from a nearby bridge.After a few weeks, the troop trains ceased. When I later read of the D-Day landings, and the great loss of life at Utah and Omaha beaches for the Americans, I wondered if I had spoken to some of those men.Stan Veasey, Royal Signals wireless operatorOn 20 May 1944, we moved from our concentration area at Wickham to the final marshalling area at Hambledon [Hampshire]. I said, “Twenty miles from Nottingham,” and spoke of them being near Sherwood Forest They all seemed to have heard of Robin Hood. They were flying abreast and the nearest one didn’t like the look of us.

He peeled off and dropped his bombs at the end of our column, wrote off our truck, and then machine-gunned the whole column. I could see the spatter of the bullets as they passed about two feet from my face He missed everybody, thank goodness We ended up somewhere near Bayeux. That was the end of a very apprehensive day.Alan Jackson, then a 12-year-old schoolboy living in Shirebrook, DerbyshireIt was an exciting time – spotting aircraft, seeing tanks on exercise, and watching the commandos in our village who were billeted in several pubs and other local establishments. They sometimes carried their knives strapped to their legs.Quite by chance, I was at a busy railway junction near my home when a troop-train full of American soldiers pulled into the station and the engine began to take on water.