Reunited: The young French girl and her village saviour
ERIC Downing's D-Day story may have begun on June 6 1944, but it continues to this day. His experiences on the morning of D-Day with the 22nd Dragoons, were among the most harrowing stories The Gazette uncovered.

But it is the incredible chain of events that started later that day that make Eric's story one of the most moving of all.
Eric, of Hilldown Road, Gadebridge, was the gun operator in a Sherman tank modified at the front with a set of rotating chains called ‘Flailers' that acted as a mine-sweeping device. Nicknamed ‘Bishop' by his comrades, Eric and the rest of his company were to land on Juno beach with the Canadian forces.
“On the morning of D-Day the whole of the Navy opened up. What a sight!” Recalls Eric: “The noise and din was incredible. We were on the boat waiting to land. We were feeling sick with nerves.”
The tank had been waterproofed to allow it to land in the sea and then move onto the beach were it would clear a route through the minefield into the nearest village. With the flailing chains at the front of the tank spinning, the guns couldn't be fired and the tank could travel at just one and a half miles per hour, making them a vulnerable target.
The 22nd Dragoons were supposed to land first and clear the way for the Winnipeg Rifles who would follow behind.
Yet a navigating error meant the Dragoons arrived later than planned. They were met by an horrific sight.
“The ramp dropped on the landing craft and we started forward,” said Eric.
“I looked out at the beach. It was full of dead and dying soldiers and burning vehicles.” As the tank pulled onto the beach, their situation got a lot worse.
“There was a blinding light, ‘oh hell that's it' I thought to myself.”
The tank had struck a mine, which had destroyed one of its tracks. Eric's tank was now completely immobile.
“Suddenly we were more or less sitting ducks,” said Eric.
They were forced to wait on the beach for what felt like a lifetime as German bullets rained down. Eric's tank commander was badly wounded by shrapnel and Eric himself was inches away from being struck by a sniper's bullet.
“I'd never seen a dead person before that day. While the tank was stuck all I could see outside was this Canadian Radio operator lying dead on the beach staring back at me,” Eric said.
“At the time all you're thinking is ‘am I going to see the end of the day?' When you see the dead and dying I think your first thought is, ‘I'm glad it's not me.' Then, later on, it hits you.”
The tank crew were then ordered to fire past the beach at the church of the nearby village of Grave-sur-Mer, visible from where Eric's Sherman tank stood.
Reports had come in of German troops hiding inside the church; hindering Allied advances into the village.
Unfortunately the Allies couldn't tell if there were civilians inside as well.
Following his orders Eric opened fire on the church and eventually the church tower fell, as did much of the village.
That evening Eric entered the newly liberated village of Grave-sur-Mer having survived the day. As he stood by his tank a young French girl approached him.
She handed a photo of herself and thanked him for saving them. Eric kept the photo as a souvenir.
The 22nd Dragoons left Grave-sur-Mer after D-Day, but they were not going to be forgotten. Not long before the 40th anniversary of D-Day in 1984 Eric received a letter from a former sergeant who had somehow managed to get in touch with one of the French villagers who had been in the church on D-Day.
Immediately Eric sent a letter via the sergeant to this villager, apologising for attacking the church. Weeks later he received a reply from a Roland Lemasson.
Roland was just six years old on D-Day and had been sheltering in the church with his mother when Eric had opened fire.
He wrote: “I have always kept good memories of our allies and you did right to fire at the church spire. There were over 40 German soldiers hidden there and they were firing on the troops as they landed. We can understand there was nothing else to do. My mother and myself were slightly injured but we soon recovered.”
Delighted to have received word from the village Eric sent a copy of the photo of the young girl he had been handed on D-Day, keen to see what had become of her. However Eric received no reply.
On the 50th anniversary of D-Day Eric, accompanied by his daughter Pauline, returned to Normandy.
On the second day of their visit they attended a ceremony in Cresserons, a neighbouring village of Grave-sur-Mer. The villagers had renamed the main square ‘The place of the 22nd Dragoons' in honour of Eric's regiment.
On his return to Grave-sur-Mer there was someone waiting for him. “As I got off the bus I noticed a scruffy looking Frenchman,” said Eric.
“He approached me and asked my name. It was Roland. I didn't know what to say. I was speechless. I just shook his hand.”
Roland spoke no English so communication was difficult.
It emerged that Roland's mother had dressed him as a girl during the German occupation fearful that the Germans might take him away.
Eric showed Roland a copy of the picture of the young girl he had received on D-Day and inquired if he'd been able find out anything about her.
“He looked at the picture and pointed over to the lady who had been our host the night before,” said Eric.
“I was absolutely amazed.”
Marcelle Martinot couldn't remember giving Eric the photograph all those years before and was initially confused as to how it had come into his possession.
The emotional reunion continued that evening. Despite the language barrier Eric has stayed in close contact with both Roland and Marcelle since that day.
The letters Eric received invariably include a heartfelt thank you for his part in liberating their village in 1944. Eric returned to Normandy with his daughter on June 4 this year where he once again met up with Roland and Marcelle and stood beside the rebuilt church in the village of Grave-sur-Mer.