"The alert came at 1am. We were told to man our positions and that the Allies were coming. There had been many false alarms before.

Then at 5am, with the dawn, I spotted the approaching Allied fleet. The horizon was black with ships. It was unbelievable. Some people still thought the real landing would come at the Pas de Calais, but I knew that this number of ships could only have been amassed for the genuine invasion.

I was shocked that the attack was at last coming, but I was also angry with the Allies, angry that they were sending such a huge force against us. Soon the Allied bombardment began. It was incredible, the Earth shook. It caused us, as we say in Germany, to lose all sight and hearing. We could not talk and no orders could be given. So I did what my mother had told me to do in one of her letters, I prayed a lot and very loudly.

My platoon was stationed at Widerstandsnest [resistance post] 62. Half of us were under 18, the others were older troops injured on the Eastern Front and not yet fully fit. We had two concrete gun emplacements linked by trenches. I was alone in an earth and wood machine gun nest, waiting to fire.

When the landing craft arrived, the tide was out and the Americans had a lot of beach to cross. As they swarmed towards me I opened fire. The Americans fell and many never stood up again. I don't know how many I killed. I just wanted to defend myself, to survive.

At noon, some Americans broke into our area. They caught me by surprise, running along our trench system, and shot me in the hand. My American friends tell me this is what is called a ‘million dollar wound'. It wasn't a bad wound, but it was a good excuse for me to be evacuated back to Germany."