from our special correspondent in Caen – Charles Norman Shay was one of the 500 Native Americans who came ashore on the beaches of Normandy on D-Day, June 6, 1944. He was barely 20 years old and had grown up on an Indian reservation in the US state of Maine. Today, the former combat medic has settled permanently in the Calvados district of Normandy, a few kilometres from where “the most important day of his life” took place.
Seated in his large red leather armchair, his grey hair impeccably combed and his tie knotted, Charles Norman Shay will celebrate his 100th birthday on June 27.
“The only thing I've ever achieved in my life is that I've never been wounded or killed. I've only done my job,” he says repeatedly to visitors.
He is surrounded by mementos of his long life: military medals, photos of family, friends and regimental companions. There is also a Native American headdress, and, scattered everywhere, small turtle statuettes – a symbol common to many Native American tribes, signifying longevity and wisdom.
Since 2017, Shay who grew up on a reservation in Maine, has decided to settle permanently near Caen, in Normandy just twenty kilometres from the beach where he experienced, he says, “the most significant day of his life”, on June 6, 1944.
“I first came back to the D-Day beaches in 2007, and after that I got into the habit of attending the commemorations every year,” he says with a smile.
During the commemorations more than 10 years ago, Marie-Pascale Legrand first offered Shay a place to stay in her spacious Normandy home, and she continued to do so every year thereafter. Legrand, 62, a native to the region, has been welcoming American veterans for more than 30 years during the annual D-Day commemorations.
“After years of visits, discussions, correspondence by mail and telephone, we became great friends,” she says. “So when I went to visit him a few years ago, I saw that his health was declining and there was no one to help him. I decided to offer him a place here so that he could look after himself.”
“He accepted and I made part of my house available to him – including this library, which became his cocoon,” she continues. “Today, he's part of the family.”
“When Marie-Pascale suggested I come and live in Normandy, I was very lonely. My wife had died a few years before. Today, I'm very happy here,” he says, flashing a smile at his benefactress.
‘They told me, “you're going to be a medic”’
Yet for a long time, coming to Normandy was “painful”, Shay admits. “Many of my friends died on these beaches. I'm still here, but it still pains me to think of all those who perished.”
Shay was born on June 27, 1924 into the Penobscot Native American tribe.
In 1943, at the height of the World War II, he was called up for military service – like his three brothers – “an obligation for young Native Americans”, he says. His brothers were sent to the Air Force and Navy, and he became a combat medic.
“I was sent for military training and told ‘you're going to be a medic’. It wasn't my choice, but the assignment I was given,” he says with a shrug. “At first, I was sent to Indianapolis General Hospital. At the time, I was thinking that was pretty good, that I was going to spend my military service in a hospital. But fate decided otherwise.”
A few months later, 19-year-old Shay set sail from New York aboard the ocean liner Queen Elizabeth, converted into a troopship. He crossed the Atlantic to the small port of Bridport, England. There, he was assigned to the First Infantry Division, known as “the Big Red One”, as a combat medic.
“16th Infantry Regiment, Second Battalion, Company F,” Shay said briskly. This was the beginning of his preparation for “a major special operation” by the Allied forces – the future D-Day.
'I don't know how many men I've helped'
But 80 years have gone by since the morning of June 6, 1944, and as Shay recounts “his longest day”, he makes no secret of how “tired” he is of dredging up the past, retelling stories he’s told so many times in the course of his life. “I just did what I was trained to do, and I was lucky to survive,” he says.
“We got the call very early in the morning, around 1 or 2 o'clock, to get ready to leave the ship and join the landing craft,” he explains without emotion. “We arrived on Omaha Beach around 5am. The sea was pretty calm.”
“But when we jumped into the water, many of the soldiers were heavily laden with machine guns, mortars and ammunition. I saw many of them drown. They weren't able to swim and there was no way to save them,” he continues. With his lighter medical equipment, he managed to make his way to the beach.
Shay then focused on his job, taking care of the wounded. “I don't know how many hours I spent on the beach. There were so many wounded, so many people to take care of. I don't know how many I helped.”
Along with many injured soldiers who were unknown to him, Shay came across one of his friends, Edward Morozewicz, a 19-year-old fellow medic who was severely wounded.
“We had met in England and trained together. We'd become close,” he says, his voice filling with emotion. “When I found him, he had a bullet wound in the stomach, and I knew that he was not going to live very long. I knew I couldn't heal him. I didn't have the necessary instruments. He died while I was treating him.”
By late afternoon, Shay, drained of energy, decided to head inland. “But I fell asleep at the top of the beach from exhaustion. When I woke up, I was surrounded by dead Germans and Americans,” he recalls. Eventually, he managed to rejoin his unit, and reunite with other survivors from his regiment.
The assault on Omaha Beach was the bloodiest combat zone of the D-Day landings, with 1,000 killed and 2,000 wounded or missing of the 34,250 men who landed.
In the days that followed, Shay continued to treat the wounded on the battlefields of Normandy. His battalion later joined the push into Germany, where he was taken prisoner in March, 1945. He was released three weeks later, shortly before the end of the war in Europe.
Keeping Native American memory alive
After the war, Shay returned briefly to the United States but, unable to find a job, he decided to re-enlist in the armed forces. In all, he spent twenty years in the military. He took part as a medic in the Korean War, from 1950-1953, then participated in various nuclear weapons tests in the Pacific. “Without ever being wounded,” he says proudly.
Shay finally left the military in 1965 and settled in Vienna, Austria, where he became an archivist for the United Nations. “That's also where I met my wife Lily,” he says.
He has fond memories of his years in Austria, recalling “vacations in the mountains”, “parties in town”, “his country house” and “his side job as a limousine driver to make ends meet”.
During those golden Austrian years, Shay says, he had “forgotten” the hours he spent on Omaha Beach. It was only at the age of 82, encouraged by friends, that he decided to return to Normandy.
For Shay, revisiting Normandy was a turning point. In the years that followed, he became one of the key players in the D-Day commemorations. Assisted by Legrand, he retold his D-Day stories in school classrooms, organised meals for veterans and attended every American commemoration of the invasion.
But above all, he made it his mission to pay tribute to the 44,000 Native Americans who took part in World War II and to those who came ashore like him in Normandy.
He initiated the first ceremonies in honour of Native Americans who served in uniform, presiding over traditional prayers. “In the early years, I was the only Native American present at the commemorations. Over the years, many people have joined us. We succeeded in highlighting their role in the war. It was important not to forget them,” he says with satisfaction.
In June 2017, as a symbol of this work of remembrance, a stele bearing his name was inaugurated on the outskirts of Omaha Beach. Shaped like a turtle and sculpted by Shay's nephew, it pays tribute to all Native American soldiers.
But while he is glad to attend the commemorations, he admits today that he wants to “leave this behind” and decided two years ago to pass the baton to another Native American, Gulf War veteran Julia Kelly, to carry on the observance.
For her part, Legrand has just published Shay’s biography – a way of ensuring that his story continues to be passed on.
This story has been translated from the original in French.
