By JON BAKER

CENTRAL FALLS — Late Wednesday afternoon, Leo Heroux swore he’d do his best to ignore the 10 o’clock hour this morning, and instead just sit in his eighth-floor Forand Manor apartment and watch TV, or maybe take a walk around the building.

Just before noontime Thursday, the Central Falls resident — now 84 — yielded to his own thoughts. In the smallish dwelling he’s resided in since about 2001, Forand pored over old photos and newspaper articles referencing Allied invasion of Normandy on June 6, 1944.
Few in the Blackstone Valley  better understand today’s significance than Heroux. As a private first class of the First Army’s Fifth Engineer (Amphibious) Special Brigade, this man witnessed the carnage that morning
—- 64 years ago today — at Omaha Beach.
“It’s something I’ll never forget,” he said Thursday. “I remember looking in the water and seeing all the dead bodies floating by, and -- when we got to the beach -- all the bodies laying there.
“There was blood everywhere -- in the sand, in the water,” he added. “It was one gruesome sight, an image I’ll never forget … I recall a guy with us (in Company A), and he picked up a small mine once we reached the beach. He ended up dropping it, and it landed at such an angle that it blew up into his face. There were pieces of his body all over the place.
“I’ve got vivid memories of that time, both good and bad.”
The best part of Heroux’s presence at Normandy? Less than a half-mile away, and just days later, he met his wife-to-be, an attractive school teacher working in Colleville, a nearby coastal village.

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Heroux had graduated from Sacred Heart Academy here in the “Square-Mile City” in 1941, and was working at J. & P. Coats Thread Mill to aid his family when he was drafted in March 1944. Not long after, Heroux -- then 21 -- reported to Fort Devens, Mass. for basic training, then stationed at camps in West Virginia and southeastern Massachusetts before trekking with his brigade overseas to South Wales.
The original date for the Normandy invasion, as selected by then-Allied Expeditionary Force Supreme Commander Dwight D. Eisenhower and called Operation Overlord and Operation Neptune, had been June 5. Because of wind and high seas, the future president postponed the assault to the following morning.
The initial forces landed at 6:30 a.m. To this day, Heroux calls himself lucky to be among those to land at 10 a.m., as a second assault wave
“I remember June 6 being a beautiful day, with a blue sky and a few clouds,” Heroux stated. “We were being transported by an LST (landing ship transports), which carried ammunition, gasoline and vehicles. I remember the front ramp to the ship opening, and two or three of the “Ducks” (tanks) sank, but we had 50-75 of them.
“I looked up into the sky, and it was full of our planes,” he continued. “They were bombing and gunning the German troops, who were inland. Once all the ‘Ducks’ were unloaded, our guys took the elevator to the bottom level of the boat and jumped onto trucks with the ammo and gas. Then we took a barge toward the beach.
“I had been in one of the trucks, but then I got out to get a better view of the beach, and see what the hell was going on. We were being bombarded by inland German troops, and shrapnel was falling like rain. I jumped under a truck on the barge to take cover -- I wasn’t with anybody -- and I looked in the water. I didn’t know what it was, but it scared the hell out of me. I thought, ‘I’ve gotta get out of here!’ and looked in the truck, which was filled with TNT. I ran to the back of the barge, thinking it would blow. All of this took place in about two minutes.”
When his unit moved close enough to shore, Heroux and the rest jumped out and made their way up the beach.
“We were all sinking on the small rocks; we thought it would carry our weight, but, remember, we had strapped to us 50-pound backpacks,” he offered. “We all kneeled down to spread our weight, and moved over the rocks and sand … The first sergeant yelled out, ‘Follow me! We’re moving further inland!’ I didn’t see any Germans. All I saw was Allied soldiers drowned, or shot down on the beach..
“I was afraid, and I wasn’t alone,” he added. “We didn’t say anything to each other. I think we were in shock.”

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As troops moved further inland, Heroux’s company remained behind, he said, because “it was our job to clean the beach -- of mines and bodies.
“We didn’t do it that first day; we moved to the top of the hill and set up camp, and waited for trucks, bulldozers and jeeps to reach the beach,” he said. “We set up camp, and -- when he awoke the next day -- what a surprise when we saw still-unexploded mines … The guys worked in two shifts, from 7 a.m.-7 p.m., and the second took over through the night. I had to stay on the hill and play the role of ‘camp watchdog.’”
The morning of June 8, a lieutenant asked him if he spoke French, and the fellow from Central Falls nodded. That’s when he asked the PFC to tell a farmer to move his cows elsewhere, stating “We’ve got to take this field.”
Turns out, the farmer’s name was Broeckx (pronounced Brooks).
“I asked him where he lived, and he said, ‘Come, I’ll show you,’” Heroux claimed. “He showed me his house, and I just said, ‘I’ll see you tonight. I need a good glass of milk.’ He gave me one that night, and every night after that. On June 11th, I went again, approached the house and saw a good-looking girl coming down the stairs. He introduced me to his daughter, Anne-Marie.
“It was love at first sight,” he grinned. “It was amazing. I was mighty lucky to meet the girl of my dreams in an atmosphere like that.”
When its beach assignment ended, the company trekked forward, through France, then into Germany. Heroux stated he later took part in the renowned Battle of the Bulge, adding that, as an Amphibious unit, it was their job to diffuse mines and fix destroyed bridges for troops plowing ahead.
All the while, he continued writing Anne-Marie, who responded in kind. One day, he can’t remember when, he asked the teacher via letter to marry him. He discovered weeks later she had accepted.
Heroux spent over two years in the Army, and didn’t see his wife-to-be until early 1947. They got married on Jan. 25 at Notre Dame Church, not far from where he now resides.
The couple had four children, including Norman, Nancy, Beatrice and Leslie beginning in 1948, and all but Nancy (Canada) currently live in France. They moved to Colleville and Anne-Marie’s homestead the same year, where Heroux became the owner of a driving school business.
Shortly before 1980, Anne-Marie’s health waned as she, sadly, had developed Alzheimer’s.
“I moved back here after she died; she had been in a nursing home, and she didn’t know who I was,” he said. “I was heartbroken. My sons and daughters were in France, but I chose to come home to be with my three brothers.”
Heroux, who garnered six medals for his work in WWII, worked maintenance at Apex department store before retiring in the early 1990s. On occasion, he chooses to return to Colleville to visit his children and walk the beach, reminiscing about that fateful day.