What if you or I were not eating our breakfast in bed or reading the newspaper on the sofa this morning but back in the Channel early on this day in 1944? Sick from the sea and the fear, numb and dizzy with adrenalin as the landing craft lurches against the sand. Soaked, lashed by wind and rain, chafed by the khaki and weighed down by equipment Unable to believe the sights before us, unable to escape. And that is even before we jump forward with the rest, hit the icy water and stumble into the maelstrom of Sword, or Gold, or Juno, or, God help us, Omaha.The first soldiers there were cut down while still in the sea The next wave were pinned to the sand for hours. By the end of the day just over 34,250 men would have landed, of whom 2,000 were killed or seriously wounded.

They were luckier on Utah, the other American landing site, landing 23,250 men with only 200 casualties. More than 96,000 troops landed on Gold, Juno and Sword beaches, with 3,000 casualties.”We slowed to a snail’s pace and, around 4.45am the anchors rattled down into the water, and I could hear some of the curses of men swinging their assault barges over the transport’s side. You couldn’t see the heads of the troops over their sides, just the coxswain’s helmet sticking up from the stern. It was light then, and the scene was quickly changing from one of an even line of boats knifing in orderly rows behind their leaders towards the beach to a scene of carnage. One Higgins boat was completely disintegrated by a direct hit from shore.

There were no survivors.”Carter Barber, an American correspondent, watched the bloody events at Omaha from a US Coast Guard cutter just offshore.Most of the American memorial events are due to take place today, when President George Bush will be in Normandy. The Queen and other heads of state will be with him, including the German chancellor Gerhard Schr?. The leaders of Norway, France and Belgium took part in joint ceremonies yesterday But heads of state did not fight on the beaches Ordinary men from 14 nations did. Yesterday they assembled at battlefields all over Normandy to remember.

A mile inland from Sword at dawn, gardeners were working in the grounds of the British war cemetery at Hermanville. “These two days, of all the days, they have to be perfect,” said Jean-Luc, one of two middle-aged groundsmen, “We make sure that these men are looking their best.” He was straightening Union flags placed in the soil in front of some of the 986 British graves by relatives.As Jean-Luc spoke, a flotilla of warships was leaving from Portsmouth harbour on the other side of the Channel, heading for France. A Lancaster bomber and two Spitfires flew low over the departing ships. Veterans in regimental blazers hung with medals lined the deck of the MV Van Gogh. “It is mild today,” said Alfred Allan, 84, from Lisburn in Northern Ireland, a telegraphist on the frigate HMS Seymour 60 years ago, trying to protect troop ships from submarine and patrol boat attacks. “It was a bit rough back then.”So rough that the Germans did not expect an attack A lull in the storm enabled the Allies to surprise them.