It is a matter of honour, a fitting tribute to two Shuswap veterans.
Some 70 years following D-Day, Sigurd Larsen and James Munro have received the French National Order of the Legion of Honour for the part they played in the largest seaborne invasion in history.
Part of Operation Overlord, the June 6, 1944 Normandy Landings began the invasion of German-occupied Western Europe. Many months in the planning, the operation led to the liberation of France from Nazi control, and contributed to an Allied victory in the war.
In a letter sent to both Second World War veterans, Ambassador of France to Canada, Philippe Zeller explains the Legion of Honour is the highest national order of France.
“It is awarded in recognition of your professional involvement in the liberation of our country,” writes Zeller. “Through you, France remembers the sacrifices of all your compatriots who came to liberate French soil, often losing their lives in the process.”
Known as Sid the Barber to Sicamous residents, Larsen joined the Royal Canadian Navy Volunteer Reserves (RCNVR) in Regina at the age of 16.
“I looked older and I lied a little bit,” he admits. “We all did – we were crazy kids.”
Initially trained at Comox, Larsen says any sense of adventure dissipated on the voyage to England.
While some of his memories are shrouded in time, Larsen, who has suffered from post traumatic stress disorder since 1947, recalls other events in vivid, horrifying detail.
A landing craft operator, Larsen doesn’t remember how many trips he made on D-day, ferrying soldiers from the Prince Henry, the landing craft infantry ship, to the beaches of Normandy.
“It was scary; everyone was running here, there, all over the place, everything was under fire,” he says, rubbing his head as if to shake out more details. “I can’t remember how many there were in each craft, but they were big ships.”
Safe from military discipline now, Larsen takes a very small notebook out of a box that contains his service medals.
Some of the writing has faded, but in direct contravention of orders, Larsen scribbled out his whereabouts as the Allied invasion of France continued down the Atlantic Coast and into the Mediterranean Sea.
“Returned to Southampton, left for France, on 10th of June landed troops in southern France, picked up beach party, returned to Island of Wight. June 18 moved to Portland, June 21 embarked American troops and sailors for France, June 24, left Southampton for Naples, up into Mediterranean for Second D-Day,” read a few of the entries.
It was what he witnessed on Aug. 14 at the French Ile de Levant that Larsen found hardest to bear.
“That affected me more so than the first D-Day, all the burnt bodies,” he says shaking his head at memories his diary provokes of the battle between American and German warships. “We took on prisoners and casualties; it says we captured the island and at 1600 sailed for Corsica.”
He has been receiving treatment for his PTSD.
“I put my fist through the wall; I went crazy,” he says of his first episode. “I have seen a number of doctors and continue to do so because it comes and goes, often in the middle of the night.
“It won’t leave me alone; something is chasing me all the time. I just about go crazy.”
Approaching his 90th birthday, Larsen has outlived two wives and now calls Piccadilly Terrace in Salmon Arm home.
Larsen says he was shocked by the letter announcing the Legion of Honour medal that will be presented to him March 14 at the Sicamous Legion.
“They say it was a war to end all wars – not the way it’s going right now.”
It is conceivable that Larsen was responsible for landing James (Joe) Munro on Normandy Beach on June 12, 1944, also known as D-Day 6.
Munro, was 18 when he enlisted with the Fifth Field Artillery Regiment in Moose Jaw in 1941.
“It was a schmozzle,” he says, noting the first order of the day was to strip waterproof material from the army trucks, before heading for the road and the German lines.
“We started to get shelled and the war was on,” says Munro, noting the beach had been cleaned up by the time his unit arrived. “It was frightening.”
Munro remembers losing two comrades to German shells on the first day.
Then came three weeks of back-and-forth artillery engagement, says Munro, a member of the Signal Corps, who received information from forward observation posts and passed it on so gunners would know where to aim their fire.
“The Germans weren’t about to give up,” he says. “We were hurling 25 pounds of high explosives.”
Munro enlisted with the Army in 1941 and went over overseas the following year.
He was part of the Battle for Caen from June to August 1944 and the battle for Falaise in August of that year before crossing the Seine into Dieppe, Belgium and into Holland.
Munro was in Western Germany on VE Day, May 8, 1945.
“We got into a big fat cellar and the next morning at 7:30, we walked to the German line,” he says. “We met the Germans and someone said ‘It’s kaput,’ and the German replied, ‘Thank God.’”
Munro, who once told his son Ivan, if there was another war he would shoot him in the foot to prevent him from signing up, said those who went overseas quickly discovered how ugly an “adventure” could be.
“It was not an adventure seeing your friends killed,” he says, handing out harsh criticism to our neighbours to the south. “The Americans were slow to get in; if the Americans had joined in 1939, there wouldn’t have been a war.”
There is one lovely “memento” Munro brought home – his future wife Sarah.
On leave in Glasgow, Scotland in 1944, he met Sarah in a park.
The couple, who reunited after two months apart in Mt. Ida Mews, will celebrate their 70th anniversary in the fall.
On his arrival home, Munro continued his career with CP Rail – a company that kept its promise to save jobs for those who served overseas.
An official Legion of Honour presentation for Munro will be held Friday, Feb. 20, at 3 p.m. in the Salmon Arm Legion.