Copyright © 2019 by James A.

Grant, All Rights Reserved

777: The Voyage of a D-Day LCT

By
James A. Grant
2019

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Copyright © 2019 by James A. Grant, All Rights Reserved

Foreword
Seventy-five years ago, my grandfather appeared on the frontline of world history, but for most
of his life he shared little of his D-Day experience. As time went by and that fateful day shifted in
memory, he and other World War II veterans spoke more comfortably of their wartime
experience, especially when the D-Day 50th anniversary approached. My grandfather never
embellished and remained cautious with his words. When he finally started telling his story, he
did so one-on-one. When helping him with yard work or organizing his garage and he’d answer
a few questions about Navy life. He also did his best to satisfy the requests of reporters on the
eve of the 50th anniversary who put a local spin on the commemoration. But the time talk openly
finally came when he rejoined a few of his surviving brothers of Flotilla 17. The act of joking
with a shipmate 50 years removed from the experience allowed the long-dormant memories to
surface, especially the good ones.

Over the past twenty-five years, or so, other D-Day veterans shared their experiences. They
participated in interviews with local history organizations, reunion groups, newspapers, and
some even spoke with professional historians. The collective result is a wealth of documentation
of a single day along the coast of France. Coupled with recently released military records and
digitized archival holdings, a more complete picture than ever before has emerged of the D-Day
experience. There were a lot of boats on the water that day—my grandfather’s was the LCT 777.

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Copyright © 2019 by James A. Grant, All Rights Reserved

777: The Voyage of a D-Day LCT

In the spring of 1944, Don Grant—a 23-year old Motor Machinist’s Mate in the U.S. Navy—
arrived alongside thousands of his fellow servicemembers in southern England from bases
throughout Great Britain. When fully assembled, nearly 200,000 troops gathered there in
anticipation of “Operation Overlord,” which called for a cross channel invasion to Normandy,
France. German troops entrenched along coastal beachheads presented a formidable defense and
meant that any attempt to come ashore presented the possibility of widespread casualties. The best
hope for Allied success came from whatever element of surprise they could maintain, a well-timed
bombing raid designed to weaken German strongholds, and enough numbers to overcome to the
inevitable losses. 1

Don Grant waited anxiously for the operation to begin

those early days of June and, like many of young men
gathered there, he had a lot on his mind. He joined the Navy
after growing up on a family farm along the shore of
Linwood Lake in central Minnesota. His grandfather, a Civil
War veteran, settled there some 60 years earlier. There is
little that distinguished Linwood from other central
Minnesota communities beyond the fact that the nearest
town served as the first rail stop north of St. Paul. Motorists
on U.S. Highway 61 coming to and from Duluth sometimes
stopped there too. Besides cornfields and the occasional
dairy, Linwood is a landscape of marshes and cattail-lined
lakes interspersed with woodlands sprouting up from sandy
soil. It’s a place where summer happens fast, the air is thick,
and the mosquitoes and deerflies are vicious and plentiful.
Winter brings its own bite and always over-extends its welcome.

To Grant and his shipmates preparing for battle, the quirkiness of home—Linwood Lake, or
Virginia, Maine, Florida, Montana… wherever—felt distant. A place so far removed from the
experience at hand that any memory of it became blurred by the reality of the present. They
witnessed the assembly of an armada of unprecedented proportions preparing for an operation that
would undoubtedly influence the course of world history, nearly 7,000 vessels in all.

1 There are numerous historical monographs that provide a compelling and insightful portrait of D-Day. Stephen E.
Ambrose, D-Day: June 6, 1944: The Climactic Battle of World War II (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2013) and Cornelius
Ryan, The Longest Day: The Classic Epic of D-Day (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1987) and good places to start.

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Copyright © 2019 by James A. Grant, All Rights Reserved

In the weeks leading up to the assault, Grant’s thoughts of home extended beyond the memory of
loons calling off of Linwood Lake’s waters. Just days before D-Day, as the sailors of Flotilla 17
made their final preparations for the Normandy invasion, he received a telegram from the Red Cross
alerting him that he was a new dad. On May 12th his young bride had given birth to a baby girl, the
couple’s first child. 2

Lucky 7s

During the anxious wait leading up to the

invasion, the sailors of Grant’s flotilla consisting of 35
LCTs—or landing craft tanks—moored at
Dartmouth in the River Dart received their ship
assignments. 3 Elated by the news of his baby girl back
home, Grant considered himself especially lucky
when his commanding officers assigned him to the
LCT 777, or Lucky 7’s as he called them. “I’m going
to see how lucky the sevens are,” he told fellow
Motor Machinist’s Mate Al Antonucci. Antonucci
took the same position aboard LCT 778, along with
another friend, Lieutenant Frank Antrim. 4 The 778
also carried Ensign Jack Ellsworth. When they
LCT 778 was built in Ohio along with the LCT 777 – Jack received their ship assignments, Ellsworth recalled
Ellsworth Photograph
years later that he and the other men joked with a
fellow ensign, who was likely W. Nelms Kyle from
Richmond, Virginia, and assigned to the 777. “All of us afterwards were telling him ‘boy how lucky
you are, what a lucky ship you have’ and all that sort of thing.” 5

Their luck would soon be tested. During the evening of June 4th it appeared that the time to
embark had come. Senior staff directed flotilla officers to expect a 40 percent casualty rate and to
advise their men accordingly. LCT 777 and other U.S. craft lanuched into the English Channel
planning to make landfall on June 5th. According to Ensign Thomas Pendergrast aboard the 777,
“we were pretty well underway on the 5th but the weather got so bad we just had to come back.”
Many of the men aboard the 777 suffered from seasickness. He explained that riding in a flat-

2 “3 Remember Normandy,” Forest Lakes Times, June 1994.

3 R. Craig Fabian, “Normandy D-Day 1944,” handwritten account transcribed by Tom Fabian.
4 Cliff Buchan, “Second Ride is a Breeze for LCT Vet Don Grant,” Forest Lake Times, June 11 2003.
5 Natick Veterans Oral History Project, Interview with Jack Ellsworth, U.S. Navy, 1941-1946 [video recording], Natick,
Mass : Morse Institute Library (14 East Central St., Natick, MA 01760), 2011.

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Copyright © 2019 by James A. Grant, All Rights Reserved

bottomed LCT in such rough seas meant that “every time you hit a wave it would vibrate. It was
pretty hectic.” 6 The convoy quickly returned to port due to the conditions.

The postponement proved brief. That evening, the men on the ground witnessed more than a
thousand airplanes pass overhead bound for the Normandy coast. They knew the invasion was
imminent. General Dwight D. Eisenhower issued his “Order of the Day” announcing to the forces
that they were “about to embark upon the Great Crusade” supported by the “hopes and prayers of
liberty-loving people everywhere.” 7 The Operation Neptune armada sailed under the cloak of
darkness on the moonlit night as midnight turned to June 6th—D-Day. 8

The Mount Vernon Bridge Company in Mount Vernon, Ohio, built two LCTs in January 1944,
the 777 and 778. From there the Navy transported the boats across the Atlantic aboard larger ships
in anticipation of the Normandy invasion. 9 The full complement of Navy personnel for LCT 777, as
with other Mark 6 LCTs, was one officer and 12
enlisted men, each with an assignment that allowed
the craft to function properly. Grant’s job ensured
that the LCT’s propulsion system remained
operational. Along with Grant, Kyle, and
Pendergrast, other sailors aboard the 777 that day
included young men from Virginia, Maine, New
Jersey, Pennsylvania, New York, and North
Carolina. It also carried signalman James Leroy
Hughes from Shelby, Montana. Lieutenant Urban
Lee Kokenge, a Group Commander and Notre
Dame graduate from Miami, Florida, was the
highest-ranking officer on board that day.
According to one account, it even carried a mascot
Building an LCT dog. 10

6 Thomas J. Pendergrast, Interviewed by Sarah Eberhard, Veteran’s History Project, Oral History Recording,
Atlanta History Center, Atlanta, GA, November 3, 2004.
7 Dwight D. Eisenhauer, “Order of the Day,” June 5, 1944.
8Natick Veterans Oral History Project, Interview with Jack Ellsworth, U.S. Navy, 1941-1946 [video recording], Natick,
Mass : Morse Institute Library (14 East Central St., Natick, MA 01760), 2011.
9 Shipbuilding History: Construction Records of U.S. and Canadian Shipbuilders and Boatbuilders, electronic record
http://www.shipbuildinghistory.com/history/shipyards/4emergencysmall/mountvernon.htm.
10The crew included Earl Etter from Waynesboro, Virginia, Hollis Mathews from Eastport, Maine, James Leroy
Hughes from Shelby, Montana, Charles Briscolina from Newark, New Jersey, George Hackett from Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania, Aaron Gordon from New York, New York, and Paul Barlowe of Lenoir, North Carolina. Lieutenant
Urban Lee Kokenge is mistakenly listed as W.L. Kokenge in some materials discussing the 777. He is listed as Urban Lee
Kokenge on the June 30, 1944, U.S. Navy Muster Rolls held in the National Archives and available digitally through
Ancestry.com and Fold3.com. Kokenge died in 1982, at the age of sixty-one in his hometown of Miami, Florida. The
identity of the other crew is derived from casualty lists, muster rolls, and enlistment records held in the National

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Copyright © 2019 by James A. Grant, All Rights Reserved

Besides the Navy crew, the 777 transported

a detail of the 479th Amphibious Truck
Company assigned to deliver small arms
ammunitions on three DUKWs, or “Duck
Boat” amphibious trucks—the kind of
amphibious trucks that now ferry tourists
through Wisconsin Dells or the streets of
Boston. But unlike the festive atmosphere
where Ducks operate today, the 479th headed
aboard the 777 through rough seas to the
mine-riddled “Uncle Red Beach” on the
LCT 778 in transport across the Atlantic Ocean.
southern flank of Utah Beach. Lieutenant
Charles Sharninghouse of Findlay, Ohio, led
six enlisted men of the 479th aboard the 777.
Its payload approached capacity. Spanning 119 feet, the Mark 6 LCT had a total capacity of 4
medium or 3, 50-ton tanks; or 150 tons cargo; along with accommodations for 8 troops. All told
there were likely more than two dozen men aboard the LCT 777 on D-Day. 11

D-Day

As the ships voyaged across the English Channel and midnight turned to June 6th, the naval
destroyer U.S.S. Corry guided the LCTs of Flotilla 17. Within hours the armada “stretched from
horizon to horizon” as they made the 100-mile journey to France. 12 Tension escalated as the shallow
draft landing crafts battled rough water through darkness across the English Channel. The flat-
bottom LCT were notorious for getting battered by wind and seas. After weeks of anticipation the
men were not only uncomfortable, but anxious for what they recognized would be a decisive
moment in the European War. They also understood what it meant for them personally. In his
history of D-Day, historian Stephen Ambrose recounted the story of Ensign Edwin Gale aboard the

Archives and available online through the aforementioned sources. In absence of a complete ship roster, however, the
identities of all sailors on board remains unknown.
11 LCT specifications can be found at http://ships.bouwman.com/Navy/LandingCraft/LCTs.html. Lester
Limbaugh, et al., History of the 479th Amphibian Truck Company [self-published], May 17, 1986, 22, available at
http://lcweb2.loc.gov/diglib/vhp/story/loc.natlib.afc2001001.02902/pageturner?ID=pm0001001&page=1&submit.x=
0&submit.y=0. In absence of an accurate ship roster—thus far unavailable—the total number of men aboard the LCT
777 that day remains unclear.
12 E. Pendleton Banks, “‘We were in a convoy . . . that stretched from horizon to horizon’,” Ashville Citizen-Times,
Ashville, N.C., June 6, 1994.

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LCT 853 of Flotilla 17 whose skipper turned to him and said “Edwin, you know we may not do
anything as worthwhile as this again in our lives. It is a fine thing to be here.” 13

August Leo Thomas, a sailor aboard the LCT 663, Flotilla 16, recalled seeing ships as far as the
eye could see. “There were battleships, cruisers, destroyers, landing craft, and cargo ships. The water
was rough for landing craft, and some soldiers were seasick. … The weather was heavy, wet, and
windy. The Channel was very rough, not ideal conditions for flat-bottomed landing craft.” Thomas
and the rest of the men wore “impregnated clothes over our dungarees” that covered them from the
neck down. According to Thomas, it was “hot as hell, itchy, and the odor was unbearable.” They
held gas masks at hand and wore standard helmets and boots. 14 Seasickness was rampant. As
historian Cornelius Ryan, author of The Longest Day: The Classic Epic of D-Day, explains, “Most of the
men remember that the ships smelled of just three things: diesel oil, backed up toilets and vomit…
Conditions varied from ship to ship.” On LCT 777, Ryan reported, “Signalman Third Class George
Hackett Jr., was amazed to see waves so high that they smashed over one end of the wallowing craft
and rolled out the other.” 15 According to Patrick W. Kemp, aboard the LCT 528:

We left England the evening of June 5. I remember that the weather was not too good as we went
across the English Channel. The LCT bounced around, but we had been on board so long by then
that we were used to it. I didn't sleep that night because I was helmsman, steering the ship. In the bow
we had a truck that belonged to the army amphibious engineers. Behind that were Bailey bridge
forms, and behind them, blitz cans of gasoline. It's just a miracle that we survived the trip because
there was shrapnel flying around. I wondered how we could have missed getting blown up, but we
didn't. 16

Before long, the uncomfortable hours spent on rough seas became the least of their concerns.
According to Thomas, as the armada progressed toward land, “all hell broke loose as the battleships,
cruisers, destroyers and other ships opened up and shelled the shoreline. The concussions of these
guns seemed to want to pull your clothes off.” He described activity all around as the ships headed
toward the beach in columns. 17 When the situation intensified, a number of influences—rough seas,
tides, and clouds of smoke—contributed to confusion at the landing, which led the initial assault on
Utah Beach to occur roughly a mile south of the targeted destination. But the “main cause” of going

13Quoted in Stephen E. Ambrose, D-Day: June 6, 1944: The Climactic Battle of World War II (New York: Simon &
Schuster, 2013)
14 Soldiers’ Stories: August Leo Thomas, Millitary.com: Military Headlines, “Military.com Remembers D-Day,”
available at http://www.military.com/Content/MoreContent1/?file=dday_0009. [The audio recording for this transcript
was created July 30, 1994, by The Eisenhower Center for American Studies, University of New Orleans].
15 Cornelius Ryan, The Longest Day: The Classic Epic of D-Day (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1987), 71-71.
16 Father Patrick W. Kemp, “When Sevens Weren’t Lucky,” Assault on Normandy, First Person Accounts from the Sea
Services, Paul Stillwell, ed., (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1994), available at
http://www.thomlafferty.net/7sxlucky.pdf.
17 Soldiers’ Stories: August Leo Thomas, Millitary.com: Military Headlines, “Military.com Remembers D-Day,”
available at http://www.military.com/Content/MoreContent1/?file=dday_0009. [The audio recording for this transcript
was created July 30, 1994, by The Eisenhower Center for American Studies, University of New Orleans].

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Copyright © 2019 by James A. Grant, All Rights Reserved

off course, Cornelius Ryan contends, “was the loss of three of the four control craft,” including the
U.S.S. Corry, which were sunk during the invasion. 18 “When the LCCs went down” Ryan explained,
“it threw everything into confusion.” Without direction from the LCCs, “the LCTs were forced to
circle just off-shore.” 19

The sailors looked on from their craft as they awaited orders to head in. Some men recall the
other boats circling nearby and some of them witnessed something they’d never forget. Kemp, who
went on to become a Catholic priest, spoke about the startling moment decades later, “We saw a
tank lighter like ours, and it was the LCT-777. Dick Simpson, a boatswain's mate, looked at those
lucky numbers and said to me, ‘That would be a good one to be on.’ He had no sooner got the
words out of his mouth than the thing blew right up.” From another LCT, Thomas also witnessed
the catastrophe just ahead of his boat:

There was a terrific explosion, and the LCT 777 seemed to break in half. We learned later she had hit
a mine. The skipper altered course slightly to avoid running over survivors who were in the water. It
was heartbreaking not to be able to stop and render assistance to the men who were so desperately in
need of help. And to make matters worse, some of those men were our friends. 20

The massive explosion cracked the 777 in half and launched the majority of men on deck into the
ocean. In rough seas, just several hundred yards from the beach, the sailors and soldiers floated
limply in the 54° F water—a temperature where they would be lucky to survive for a couple of
hours injuries notwithstanding. Fortunately, plenty of vessels were on the scene to rescue the
wounded. Joseph S. Jones, a Gunner's Mate First Class aboard the LCI 5—a type of craft used for
such rescues—recalled years later that the flotilla reached a buoy-marked lane “supposedly swept”
for mines when the LCT 777 cut across their starboard bow several hundred feet ahead where it hit
the mine and suddenly “[t]he bow went straight up spilling 6-bys trucks and personnel into the
channel. It sank in a few minutes.” Jones recalled that his ship immediately went to work in an
attempt to recover the survivors, “We picked up a sailor with his life jacket on but unconscious or
dead and our corpsman worked on him over an hour while the ship was bucking in heavy sea but to
no avail. We transferred the body to a troop ship later.” 21

18 Ryan, The Longest Day, 71-72.

19 Ryan, The Longest Day, 71-72.
20 Soldiers’ Stories: August Leo Thomas. According to Group 50 Commander R. Craig Fabian, “The losses were heavy.
Many dead among the army. The skipper, a young man from Richmond, VA – killed; the flotilla staff quartermaster who
was the speediest sprinter in the entire flotilla, good looking, eighteen years old, and from Great Falls, Montana – killed;
the CO and communications officer of Group 49 severely wounded; 5 MIA, and 15 others WIA, including the second
officer.” R. Craig Fabian, “Normandy D-Day 1944,” handwritten account transcribed by Tom Fabian.
21 D-Day: etat des lieux, Men of D-Day, “Joseph S. Jones, Utah Beach – former Gunner’s Mate 1/c on LCI #5, May 5,
1999, available at http://www.6juin1944.com/veterans/jones.html. The commanding officer of the LCI 216 also
witnessed the explosion, which he recorded at 1010. Commanding Officer, LCI 216, to Commander-in-Chief, United
States Fleet, August 7, 1944,

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Copyright © 2019 by James A. Grant, All Rights Reserved

Many men were lost that day, but the 83-foot LCIs
proved successful in recovering hundreds of wounded in
the waters off Normandy and in all likelihood contributed
to saving Don Grant’s life. All told, rescuers picked up 157
survivors off of Utah Beach and another 197 off of
Omaha Beach during the first hours of the invasion. The
log from one of the boats provides a rare first-hand
account of a cutter’s role in rescuing wounded from the
sea and the fate of the 777:
Don Grant’s ID stained from its time in the English
Cutter Sixteen 1730, 5 June joined invasion task force Channel
(Convoy U-1A) off Portland Bill. 0300, 6 June, arrived area --
0530, accompanied invasion barges into shore under severe
shelling attacks and with mines going up all around us. 0730, LCF-31 hit by shell 800 yards off shore,
sinking immediately. While engaged in picking up survivors, shell struck PC-1261, which
disintegrated, scattering men and debris over a wide area. While so engaged, shells and bullets were
falling near by, and just after last man picked up, small landing craft only few hundred yards off shore
blew up. Proceeded to spot and picked up all living survivors. Then proceeded to APA Dickman and
unloaded survivors. Two men pronounced dead, but one was revived later and put aboard an LST.
Departed again for invasion coast. 1045 sighted LCT-777 down by stern 1500 yards from the beach.
Moored alongside and took off all wounded. After leaving this ship, which was being used as an
ammunition ship, was told by one of the survivors (soldier) that a wounded man with two broken legs
was still inside one of the gun tubs, so returned alongside for the second time. Crew passed line under
wounded man's arms and hailed him clear just as LCT turned turtle. Those survivors turned over to
an LST which was acting as a hospital ship. No more rescue work during balance of day or following
night. Received orders to return to base. Arrive 1700, 7 June, 1944. 22

When the explosion that destroyed the 777 launched Grant into the English Channel it pounded
him with such force that it broke his back. “I was sitting by the anchor winch,” Grant recalled while
still hospitalized for his wounds, “when, all of the sudden, the explosion occurred.” He remembered
being blown into the air before the fog of war and lack of consciousness took its toll. “I was just
lying there [in the water], but I had one of those good lifejackets. . . I was paralyzed and couldn’t
swim.” The next thing he remembered, a rescue boat had picked him up. 23 Decades later, the details
of Grant’s experience floating in the English Channel remained clouded, but one thing he knew,
“We went into a living hell.” 24

Pendergrast survived with massive injuries from being thrust against the ship’s rail. He remained
conscious to see a rescue ship approach in search of survivors. “One of them comes up,” he recalled
decades later, “he says ‘we’ve got a live one here!’” Pendergrast felt lucky to survive, but

22 Quoted in United States Naval Administration in World War II, Bureau of Medicine and Surgery, The United States Navy
Medical Department at War, 1941-1945. Available at http://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USN/Admin-Hist/068B-
Med/068-Med-17.html.
23 “Warship Survivors Back on Wisteria are in Naval Hospital,” August 27, 1944.
24 Buchan, “Second Ride is a Breeze for LCT Vet Don Grant.”

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“unfortunately,” he said, “we didn’t get to shore. That hurt more than anything else because we
would have actually liked to have been there.” 25

For survivors pulled from the water, the actual invasion amounted to a climactic opening scene
with many more challenges standing before them in the weeks and months ahead. Even getting to
the hospitals proved perilous. A history of medical operations that day offers a glimpse of what
rescue work entailed:
The majority of survivors were so weak that help had to be provided in bringing them aboard. Davits
for hosting 400 pounds of weight were on some of the cutters, and RAF valise type life rafts,
scramble nets, and life lines were also used. Reports indicated that approximately 50 percent of all
survivors picked up during the first 48 hours were either seriously wounded or suffered from shock.
Although pharmacists mates were not aboard, first aid on the cutters saved a number of survivors. In
some cases, even where two limbs had been blown off, survivors were kept alive until transferred to
hospital ships. In addition to brandy issued as a stimulant, coffee and tea were available to each unit,
as were blankets. As the brandy and blankets proved insufficient in some instances, several crew
members gave their own clothing to keep survivors warm and dry. In addition to straight rescue work,
an assortment of miscellaneous duties was performed, including the urgent transfer of blood plasma,
spotting of mines, and engagement with enemy aircraft. 26

The first landing crafts reached Utah Beach by 6:30 that morning and the 777 exploded after
circling off-shore shortly after 10:00. 27 Although the strong currents in the English Channel drifted
the boats some 2000 yards south of their targeted landing destination, Allied troops took the
beachhead in less than an hour anyway. 56-year old Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt Jr., son
of America's 26th president and the oldest member of the assault forces, arrived in the first wave.
He and other officers assessed the situation, and then decided to focus the assault on their new
location, which, by chance, proved to be less defended than their original target. By mid-morning,
Allied forces secured three primary beach positions. As night fell, they reached four miles inland.
Utah Beach combat resulted in relatively few casualties, with approximately 200 dead and wounded
among the 23,000 men that went ashore. The good fortune experienced there stands in stark
contrast with Omaha Beach just to the south, where heavy resistance led to more two thousand
casualties. Collectively, D-Day marked the bloodiest day in American history since the Battle of
Antietam in the Civil War. Approximately 2,500 American soldiers died in the invasion. 28

25 Ton Pendergrast Interview, “Witness to War: Preserving the Oral Histories of Combat Veterans,” available at
http://www.witnesstowar.org/combat_storiesWWII/4712.
26
United States Naval Administration in World War II, “Chapter XVII, Normandy,” Bureau of Medicine and Surgery,
The United States Navy Medical Department at War, 1941-1945, available at
<http://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USN/Admin-Hist/068B-Med/068-Med-17.html.

27 At least one account from an LCI that day assumed that the 777 had been returning from the beach when it blew
up. The commanding officer of the LCI 216 observed the LCT 777 go down at 1010 and a pair of LCMs rescuing the
wounded at 1133. Commanding Officer to Commander-in-Chief, United States Fleet, August 7, 1944, World War II
War Diaries, Other Operational Records and Histories, compiled ca. 01/01/1942 - ca. 06/01/1946, documenting the
period ca. 09/01/1939 - ca. 05/30/1946, Record Group 38, Microfilm Roll 1197, National Archives and Records
Administration.
28 Ken Burns, The War, PBS World War II Timeline, http://www.pbs.org/thewar/at_war_timeline_1944.htm.

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By all accounts, the assault on Utah Beach proved successful. Despite landing well south of its
intended target, “U Force” organized and secured the beach. The 777 is one of only three LCTs lost
to mines off of Utah Beach, but the mines did inflict substantial damage on other craft. According
the to an official U.S. Navy history of the operation:
Minefields were Force U's greatest enemy. As D-day advanced, it became obvious that an
unsuspected mine field located in the Cardonet Shoals lay right across the boat lanes. As has been
seen, it claimed the PC 1261 in the early morning. During the next few hours it sank LCT's 362, 592,
and 777, and LCF 31. U.S.S. Corry (DD) struck a mine in the field at 0710 and sank at 0735. Shortly
afterward the same fate overtook U.S.S. Tide (AM). On the 8th, U.S.S. Meredith and Glennon (both
DD's) were sunk by mines. U.S.S. Rich (DE), which was despatched [sic] to the rescue of Glennon,
struck two mines and sank. 29

On Utah Beach, the rest of the 479th Amphibious Truck Company landed successfully and made
their way to a meeting point where one soldier recalled, “We finally made our way behind the beach
about an eighth of a mile where we were to meet Lt. Sharninghouse and the rest of the detail. A
Major from Brigade, noticing that we looked confused, informed us that the other LCT had hit a
floating mine and had exploded in front of his ship.” 30 Sharninghouse survived the sinking. Here is
his recollection of the incident:
The DUKWs were loaded with small arms ammunition and our mission was to get the small arms
ashore for delivery wherever needed… Our LCT hit a floating mine about a mile off shore of UTAH
beach, exploded and sank. We were picked out of the surf and taken to an LST that Gen Barton,
commander of the 4th Infantry Division, had come over on. The LST had been converted to a
hospital ship. A/Sgt. Soto was badly wounded. I was put in a hammock and Soto was only half
conscious. Several times I asked the medics to do something for him but all they did was look at him.
After dark on D-Day the LST sailed for England where we unloaded and [I] was transported to a
station hospital near South Hampton. I never saw any of the enlisted men again until I rejoined the
unit in France, having gone through two hospitals and three replacement depots. 31

Soto survived and was transported back to the United States. The rest of the 479th LCT survivors
healthy enough to return to action reportedly went AWOL from the hospital so they could rejoin to
their detail and fight on, hitching rides across the channel from sympathetic comrades. 32

29 Comnaveu, Administrative History of U.S. Naval Forces in Europe, 1940-1946, vol. 5. (London, 1946) in “The Invasion
of Normandy: Operation NEPTUNE: United States Naval Administration in World War II,
http://www.history.navy.mil/library/online/comnaveu/comnaveu-9.htm.
30 Lester Limbaugh, et al., History of the 479th Amphibian Truck Company [self-published], May 17, 1986, 22, available at
http://lcweb2.loc.gov/diglib/vhp/story/loc.natlib.afc2001001.02902/pageturner?ID=pm0001001&page=1&submit.x=
0&submit.y=0.
31 Quoted in Limbaugh, et al., History of the 479th Amphibian Truck Company, 22. Lt. Charles Sharninghouse was one of
four Sharninghouse brothers to serve simultaneously during WWII. His brother, Aviation Ordnanceman Second Class
Ora H. Sharninghouse, Jr., a member of a Navy torpedo squadron, served in the Pacific theatre, but was reported MIA
at age 22 in August of 1944 when his plane crashed during a bombing raid. He remained missing until 2017 when
forensic and DNA analysis of human remains recovered from a fuselage revealed his identity. He was buried in 2018
with full military honors in their hometown of Findlay, Ohio.
32 Limbaugh, et al., History of the 479th Amphibian Truck Company, 22.

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Copyright © 2019 by James A. Grant, All Rights Reserved

A July 8, 1944, narrative of D-Day activities of the SC 1330 reported that it picked up nine
wounded survivors from the 777. 33 When combined with the two wounded men picked up by the
LCI 16, at least 11 men aboard the LCT 777 made it out of the water alive. So did the mascot dog. 34
Among those killed included Navy crewmen Charles Briscolina, Aaron Gordon, and Paul Barlowe.
So was James Leroy Hughes, the teenager from Montana. The ship’s commander, Winfield Nelms
Kyle, Jr., a native of Richmond, Virginia, also died that day. 35 Group 50 Commander R. Craig Fabian
recalled the heavy losses decades later. Besides recalling many dead among the army, he remembered
“the skipper, a young man from Richmond, VA—killed.” He also remembered losing Hughes, “the
speediest sprinter in the entire flotilla, good looking, eighteen years old.” He counted among the
others 5 missing and another 15 wounded. “It was no longer a Solomons MD or Little Creek VA
drill. And we were no longer boys.” 36

Unlike her crew, LCT 777 made it ashore

The Navy presented Nelms Kyle’s personal effects to his family. They shipped his remains home
and buried him in Richmond. 68 years later, a memorabilia collector took notice of some old military
photographs at an estate sale. They included a portrait of a naval officer and images of a downed
ship labeled “Half of Nelms’ 177 washed ashore on English coast 1944.” No LCT 177 operated at
D-Day and the invasion took place off the coast of France. The identity of the man in the
photograph was unknown. Ultimately, the mystery unfolded through a military history message
board. The 177 had actually been in the Pacific Theater and the ship in the photographs was, in fact,
the LCT 777 under command of W. Nelms Kyle, Jr. The woman who kept his effects all those years
proved to be his sister. Nelms died on the 777, but his memory was undoubtedly carried on through

33The Commanding Officer to The Naval Commander, Western Task Forces (CTF 122), July 8, 1944, World War
II War Diaries, Microfilm Roll 1119, NARA.
34 Quoted in United States Naval Administration in World War II, Bureau of Medicine and Surgery, The United States Navy
Medical Department at War, 1941-1945. Available at http://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USN/Admin-Hist/068B-
Med/068-Med-17.html. Ensign Tom Pendergrast learned the good news on the fate of the dog through an Army
newspaper while recovering in an English hospital. See Thomas J. Pendergrast, Interviewed by Sarah Eberhard,
Veteran’s History Project, Oral History Recording, Atlanta History Center, Atlanta, GA, November 3, 2004.
35 Commanding Officer, U.S. Naval Advanced Base, Twelve, to Commander-in-Chief, United States Fleet, August
1944, 7, World War II War Diaries, Microfilm Roll 1128, NARA.
36 R. Craig Fabian, “D-Day Account,” transcribed by Tom Fabian, Carlsbad Current-Argus, June 6, 2004 ; “Shelby
Sailor Dies in Action; Five Wounded” Great Falls Tribune, August 26, 1944.

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his family for all those years, his photographs and medals being the last tangible reminders of the
final days of a sailor who never made it home.

E. Pendleton Banks first met Kyle when the young men stood in line at the Amphibious Training
Base at Solomons, Maryland. While waiting in line for their assignments, Kyle and Banks struck up
conversation with the yeoman at the desk who explained that of the ten officers to be interviewed
that day, eight would be assigned to LSTs and the remainder to LCTs. “Nelms and I quickly made
up our minds that being an LCT skipper sounded a lot more interesting than the alternative. We
asked the yeoman to put our file cards at the bottom of the stack. We got the LCT assignment.” On
D-Day, while making his second run into Utah Beach aboard the LCT 765, Banks spotted the 777
floating upside down in shallow water. He soon learned that his friend and roommate at
midshipmen’s school perished that day. “What chain of causality determined that the 777 and not
the 765 would hit the mine?,” Banks questioned years later, “Was it all a matter of pure chance? The
questions still haunt me.” 37

Winfield Nelms Kyle

Most of the men aboard the LCT 777 came up short of Normandy, but the craft itself eventually
reached shore. Images of the 777 upside-down and broken apart on Utah Beach provide clear

37 E. Pendleton Banks, “‘We were in a convoy . . . that stretched from horizon to horizon’,” Ashville Citizen-Times,
Ashville, N.C., June 6, 1994.

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documentation of its fate and corroborate witness reports that the ship blew up after hitting a mine
just short of France. A U.S. Navy service log from the repair ship USS Atlas reported that in the
aftermath of D-Day, a 7,000-ton British freighter struck the 777’s “derelict hull” while beaching
itself during a storm in an effort to bring Allied forces much-needed ammunition. The collision
ripped a 12-foot deep gash in the freighter. 38 Sinking less than six months after being built, the
channel crossing on D-Day was the 777’s only substantial voyage.

A British freighter collided with the LCT 777 on Utah Beach. C. Fabian photo.

Homefront
On the morning of June 6, 1944, Americans awoke to newspaper headlines that D-Day had
arrived and that Allied forces had landed in France. But few details shed light on the circumstances.
Churches held special services and the country waited anxiously for the outcome of this pivotal
moment of their generation. That evening, President Franklin D. Roosevelt spoke over the radio of
the American troops’ effort “to set free a suffering humanity . . . our sons will triumph.”

In Minnesota, Ruth Grant occupied herself caring for her infant daughter while waiting anxiously
for word on her husband’s whereabouts. Then, on June 19th, a Western Union telegram arrived,
delivered by “Special Messenger”:
The Navy Department deeply regret[s] to inform you that your husband Donald Krey Grant motor
machinest [sic] mate first class USNR has been wounded in action in the performance of his duty and
in the service of his country The department appreciates your great anxiety but extent of wounds not
now available and delay in receipt of details must necessarily be expected but will be furnished you

38 U.S.S. Atlas Service Log, Frame 1630, 84.

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promptly if received to prevent possible aid to our enemies Please do not divulge the name of his ship
or station. 39

Then, for another month and a half, nothing. Ruth sent countless unanswered letters in an effort
to learn of her husband’s condition. Finally, she reached Lieutenant Frank Antrim. On August 4th,
Antrim sent the following handwritten response:
My Dear Mrs. Grant,

I was glad to receive your letter about two weeks ago. There has been some delay in answering
because I wanted some facts to give you. I am afraid they are still none too authentic, but I will write
again when I learn more.

About the time your letter arrived, word came that Grant was Wounded in Action. That was the first
word I had. Since then, our staff in England has been able to find out where he is and some definite
word on his injuries. His address is – 55th General Hospital, A.P.O. 121, New York City. I
understand this is a British Hospital. The flotilla doctor gained this information on his injuries. He
had one broken vertebrae, is in a cast and coming along fine.

We have requested that he, along with some others, be transferred to a U.S. Hospital and
subsequently evacuated to the States.

I hope this information lightens the worry of you, his wife and his family. But I hope you have already
heard from Don, and that it proves out that he is even better off than this. Your letter made me very
happy as a gentle reminder that the folks back home are really in back of their boys. Grant is one of
my best men, in fact I hardly think I can get along without him. He has done a whale of a job for me,
and I have no one to take his place. But our big job here has finished. Grant has done more than his
share, I feel free to speak for the whole flotilla when I say this. We all want to see him and his family
happy.

There were many sad faces and heavy hearts when word came that Grant was possibly injured,
possibly killed. He had filled his spot in our staff with more than ability to do a job, he brought in
warmth and kindness, a real friend and shipmate. I am proud to be able to work and fight for what we
believe with such men as your son and husband.

Very Sincerely Yours, Frank Antrim. 40

That August, next of kin received news about both the lucky and unlucky aboard the 777. Back
in Montana, the Great Falls Tribune reported Hughes killed in action. It offered no specifics on the
theater or circumstances. Slightly more detail appeared in a list of Shelby High School students lost
in the war prepared in 1944 by the students in Miss Corlie Dunster’s class. They reported that
month that Mr. and Mrs. Hughes had not heard from James since May 27th, but received official
notification that he had initially gone missing in action and was buried at sea. However, the Navy
soon recovered his remains and buried Hughes at the Normandy American Cemetery.

39 Telegram, Vice Admiral Randall Jacobs, Chief of Naval Personnel, to Mrs. Ruth Eldora Grant, June 19, 1944. The
New York City address Antrim provided was likely a central forwarding location since the Navy frequently relocated
wounded personnel.
40 Frank H. Antrim, Ensign, U.S. Naval Reserve, to Mrs. Grant, August 4, 1944.

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Grant spent months recovering in a body cast in an English hospital. Hollis Matthews also
survived D-Day aboard the LCT 777 and he, too, sustained serious injuries before being pulled from
the water and evacuated to a hospital. “I was a patient at this Naval Hospital at Netley, Hants from
June 10th to the middle of August, 1944” explained Matthews years after the 777 struck the mine:
We left in August for Liverpool to board a hospital ship for evacuation to USA. It's nice to see the
hospital from the outside. The address was Navy 824. Also I remember the "buzz bombs." Quite a
helpless feeling. One of the things that stick in my memory was an elderly gentleman who used to
come into our room in the evening asking ‘Have you had your Cadbury's today?’ His name was
Charley. There were twelve of us, some army, but mostly US Navy in a room. We all had fractured
legs and we looked like a chorus line, with most of us in traction. Just think, all this happened 57 years
ago but the memory still lingers.” 41

Don Grant (standing) on the road to recovery

On August 23rd, the Navy evacuated Grant to the United States and he continued his recovery at
the Charleston Navy Hospital. 42 Matthews returned home to Maine and went on to a career in the
U.S. Customs Department. After a series of hospital stays, Grant was discharged and returned to
Minnesota to eventually start a career as a postmaster. He retired in 1977.

As a teenager in the early 1990s, teacher assigned me an oral history project and with the 50th
anniversary of D-Day approaching I knew just enough about my grandfather’s World War II
experience that I needed to know more. Throughout his life he spoke little of his experience aboard
the LCT 777, but that day he gladly, albeit emotionally, shared his story with me. He left out details,
but I understood. My grandfather and the men aboard the LCT 777 came up short of Utah Beach;
the enemy brought down their ship. But “U Force” won the day, Operation Neptune proved

41 Hollis E. Matthews, Personal Correspondence with Arthur Altvater and R. Jackson.

42 Navy Muster Rolls, LCT Flotilla 17, August 31, 1944, Fold 3.

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successful, and Operation Overlord marked a decisive moment in the War. My grandfather and the
men of D-Day did their duty, but in doing so they became heroes who shifted the tide of history.
Such context proved comforting to these veterans, but reflecting on the experience brought little
cause for celebration. The horror they witnessed and the pain they endured remained inseparable
from the clouded memories of war.

Around the time I first spoke with my grandfather about his service came the D-Day 50th
anniversary and its reunions where the old sailors gathered to share something that only they could
truly understand. Grant reunited with Frank Antrim for the first time since that fateful day on the
English Channel. Alongside his mates, he got a bit more at ease discussing the war. After all, his
buddies still called him “Decay” (for D. K. Grant) and the old sailors teased each other as if they
were still the same mates waiting in line for their ship assignments. The magnitude of the experience
also had a lifetime to set in. And the lucky 7s?, as Grant explained to a reporter in 1994, he was a
lucky one, “I only know of four other fellows on my ship who got off alive.” 43
When the flotilla command assigned the ships, it was indeed luck of the draw. Their boats
differentiated only by numbers. Some proved lucky, some not. “On D-Day morning going in the
777 was upside down with its bow sticking up. It was all-hands lost,” assumed Ensign Jack
Ellsworth, remembering his experience aboard the 778 in an oral history interview some 65 years
after the fact, “Nobody survived it. If I had gotten the lucky number…” Ellsworth paused, “I got
the lucky number but it wasn’t 777.” 44
In 2003, Frank Antrim and Al Antonucci
made their way to Linwood Lake to visit my
grandfather. It was the first time the three men
had all gotten together since a New Orleans
reunion in 1995. But this particular trip was
special. They took the highway from Linwood
up to Duluth to join a reunion of WWII LCT
servicemembers and ride one last time aboard
an LCT. Lake Superior’s waters were tranquil
that day, which provided a fitting end to what
proved for many of them to be their last
reunion. As the summer sun set over the big
lake’s waters that evening, the LCT made it Lake Superior, 2003. A final LCT voyage for many D-Day veterans.

ashore. The men said goodbye and this time they

all made it home.

43 “3 Remember Normandy,” Forest Lakes Times, June 1994.

44 Natick Veterans Oral History Project, Interview with Jack Ellsworth, U.S. Navy, 1941-1946 [video recording], Natick,
Mass : Morse Institute Library (14 East Central St., Natick, MA 01760), 2011.

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