Episodes of War: The Nun of Vire, August 1944 (Published on 16/11/2024)
The episode comes from a field post letter written by a US soldier in September 1944, which was published in the book “Behind the Lines” by Andrew Carroll. In his letter, Lieutenant James R. Penton, a member of a US tank destroyer battalion, recounts an experience that took place in August 1944 during the battles for the French town of Vire in Normandy and which left a deep impression on him.
The following is his letter (source: Carroll, “Behind the Lines”, p. 147):
“3 September 1944
Dear Mother and Governor:
In the ‘Reader’s Digest’ there’s a monthly article entitled ‘The Most Unforgettable Character I’ve Known’,’- or something of the sort. Well, not so long ago I met an unforgettable character myself………….
My guns were in position in a small farmyard in the recently-wrested town of Vire, along the crest of a beautiful ridge, – and but a stone’s throw from the rubble-dusty-haze rising above the warm ruins of the cities’ downtown business section.
There was no ‘Business As Usual’ in Vire that night, – only ‘Nazi-Tactics as Usual’ as the Butchers of Spirit and Property harassed the town from afar with artillery shells aimed at no one spot in particular. My platoon crept into town as dusk merged into darkness, – barely moving at all in the tortured streets so as to keep, down dust — and resulting enemy observation.
And as the sun of early morning dissolved the fog, yawning faces appeared from the depths of holes in the ground, and the boys were moving about comparing notes about the night before. Considerable interest was shown in the truck, – which had suffered three gashed tires, a perforated radiator, and other numerous shrapnel holes.
In the light of day I noticed a sprawling, peaceful convent to the immediate rear of the position, – with its courtyard and spires almost miraculously untouched. And while I sat there, – in the protection of a bank, gazing at the convent and listening to the melodious chiming of its bells intermingle with the hideous wail, of Jerry 88’s, – a solitary nun made her way deliberately through the yard, a bucket of water in one hand. It was a shock to hear her address me in perfect English, show identification papers, and learn that she was earing for the livestock in the absence of the terrorized farmer and his family.
And that’s the sum and substance of my story. All morning long, as the whine of Jerry artillery overhead kept the rest of us in our holes, that nun moved serenely and placidly about the skeleton of the burned-out barn, – and around the bodies of dead, bloated cows; – – – – – milking the swollen cows, feeding and watering the chickens, collecting eggs.
And I know that our most argumentative and skeptical atheist [Penton on himself] was duly fascinated and impressed by that, display of the power and force of that Sister’s faith – – and complete fearlessness, …. It was not the sudden, stimulated and short-lived courage which drives a man to risk hot lead on a daring dash to aid a buddy, to me, it was far more than that………It was the picture of a mellowed and complete faith, – it was serenity of mind and soul amidst man’s savagery of arm and spirit………..That nun hadn’t spent two years of training, and ‘battle-conditioning’ and crawling under gun fire………..but her poise and expression and dogged pursuit of someone else’s domestic duties in the midst of that inferno was something we will all remember; – as we will the quarter-hourly chiming of the convent bells, as if in patient, long suffering defiance of the high explosive shells which ripped the city …………… And as I sketched the nun, – some of the boys glanced over my shoulder………..There was no title on the paper, – but every one immediately recollected…
Well, there is nothing new to say. We seem to be doing things rapidly here in France, – but don’t expect that daily collapse… These Germans are either crazymen or madmen, – and the fact that they are being cut off into little ‘pockets’ does not prevent their generals from driving them to the long drawn-out slaughter…….
(…)
Do not worry when I don’t have time to write. You know in the army – ‘no news is good news.’
Love to all,
Jim”
In December 1944, James R. Penton was wounded and evacuated to Paris. He made a full recovery and returned home.
(Head picture: American military cemetery in Henri Chapelle/Belgium,
October 2018)
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