
I don’t remember how I first stumbled across the D-Day story of American paratrooper John Steele, but it stuck with me because it’s a helluva tale. Here’s a brief account of Steele’s wartime escapades from WKMS, the Murray State NPR station:
In the early morning hours, [Steele] jumped with the 82nd Airborne Division into Normandy, France. His jump ended with an entangled parachute on the steeple of the church in Sainte-Mère-Église.
This left Steele hanging over the city for several hours before eventually being taken prisoner by the Germans. After his capture, escape, and the close of the war, John Steele returned to his hometown of Metropolis [IL].
He later moved with his wife to North Carolina. On the 20th anniversary of D-Day, he returned to France and found he was memorialized by the village with a mannequin on the church steeple and a depiction in a stained-glass window.
“He went back to Normandy and toured the beaches. They had a hotel and a bar named after him. They treated him like royalty basically. He signed autographs for several hours,” [Amanda Quint of the Metropolis Public Library] said.
I’ve read elsewhere that Steele played possum while dangling above the village since the occupying Germans had shot fellow paratroopers. Apparently the paratroopers weren’t supposed to land in the village, and a stray bomb had started a fire that woke the townspeople and occupiers. So the paratroopers were sitting ducks as they glided toward earth.
After dangling for what must have seemed an eternity, Steele was taken prisoner, but only briefly. He escaped in the chaos of the invasion and rejoined his unit. According to Steele’s Wikipedia page, Sainte-Mère-Église was the first town liberated by Americans on D-Day.
***
In the 1990s, a couple of friends and I were talking about their upcoming trip to France. One of the pair was a huge WW II history buff, and she shared their plans to visit Normandy beach towns. I asked if they had heard of John Steele, and they had not, so I told them what I’d read.
When they visited Sainte-Mère-Église, they saw a tavern named for the paratrooper, Auberge le John Steele, which is still in operation today. They bought the above-pictured plate and gave it to me as a souvenir.
This evening, maybe I’ll throw some grapes and cheese on that plate, root around in my liquor cabinet for some Calvados and raise a glass to the memory of John Steele. Long may it endure in Sainte-Mère-Église!
Open thread!




