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When allied forces landed in Normandy on June 6, 1944 and fought their way inland from the beaches, a couple of soldiers on a detail with a photographer discovered that, in spite of the invasion, you could still get a horse shod down at the forge. This beautiful and peaceful photo was taken during one of the bloodiest, deadliest weeks of human history. I would have thought the town would have been evacuated. Perhaps it was--and the farrier defied orders and stayed behind in case anyone needed him. |
Note: This article was written in 2009. Since then, an account has emerged that British troops used a French horse to carry their mortar as they advanced. Could it be the same horse in my photos? Gray draft horses are common in Normandy, which is the home of the Percheron breed. But perhaps the British realized that the horse they commandeered had lost a shoe, or needed the attention of a farrier.
Today (June 6) is the anniversary of D-Day, the World War II invasion of France by an allied force of troops and air support from Great Britain, the United States, Australia, Canada, and other nations. They came by sea and they dropped from the sky by parachute. You've seen the movies, and you probably know the story.
A new possible angle on the horseshoeing story emerged in 2019, when the BBC News posted this video about a gray work horse commandeered by British troops to carry their mortar. Did the horse lose a shoe? Click the arrow to start the video.
UPDATE: The BBC has changed access to this video. It can now only be viewed inside the United Kingdom. American, Canadian, and other readers will not be able to play the video. If you have a way to access it, the link is: https://www.bbc.com/news/av/embed/p07c9k5w/48520886
Imagine my surprise years ago when I found these photos in the archives of the invasion. In the midst of all the fighter planes, tanks and artillery, we find some unidentified soldiers who appear to have stumbled on a smithy in Creully, one the first towns inland from the beaches, and hence one of the first real places in France to be "liberated" by the invading allies. Or, was he shoeing
their horse, I wondered.
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Here's an enlargement of the men's faces. This could be a Norman Rockwell painting.
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The elderly marechal ferrant (that's French for farrier) is not caught up in the revelry of liberation. I am sure that when this photo was taken you could hear the battle going on, yet inside this smithy, time has stopped. Perhaps the Canadian soldiers had banged on his door. He was probably hiding deep inside, as tanks rolled through his village from the beaches to the east, and convoys of German trucks and wagons evacuated.
It's easy to imagine a scenario here: Perhaps one of the soldiers is a farm boy from Saskatchewan or Manitoba who had never seen the European way of holding up the hind foot for the farrier. He'd be saying (with a helmet on, after just almost being killed during the amphibious landing on the beach), "Gee, that's dangerous! Watch out you don't get kicked, old man!"
Or perhaps he was an inner city boy from Montreal or Toronto who had never seen a horse shod in his life. After surviving the landing on the beach and marching inland, he sees life with new eyes. He and his detail may have been assigned to check that all the buildings of this village are empty and secure and instead they find this old man and a farmer's son shoeing a cart horse. Are they being ordered to leave? But first, they insist on finishing the horse: they're not going anywhere until the last nail on the last shoe is clinched.
Or did the Canadians need the horse to be shod so
they could use him, as the BBC newsreel footage suggests?
I think these photos illustrate one of the most magical things about shoeing horses, anywhere and everywhere it happens, but especially in a purpose-built forge. Time does seem to stop. No one can go anywhere until it's done, nor do they want to. No matter how modern the materials, the ritual is as timeless now as it has always been.
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Update: Canadian records tell us that the farrier's name was Monsieur M. Le Jolivet and the forge was on Rue de Bayeux in Creully, a village about four miles inland from the "Gold" zone of beaches where the Canadians landed.
I wondered if the farrier invited the soldiers to share a sip of his calvados, the fine brandy of his region, after the horse was done. That would be the French way, even with shells falling on the town and tanks rolling down the road.
Or maybe he had more horses to do.
Another update: More research with the Canadian government sources has revealed that the photographer was with the Royal Canadian Corps of Signals / Canadian Army Film & Photo Unit. The men shown are likely Sgt. Al Grayston and Private Lewis Luke “Lew” Currie.
Currie, the smiling man in the beret in the photo, was a driver assigned to the photographer. He was killed during fighting on July 4, 1944, just a few weeks after this photo was taken. He was trying to assist the film crew when a shell hit him.
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Another amazing thing about this photo is the skill of the photographer. Taking photos of this quality in the available light of a forge was probably a welcome challenge to a photographer who had been dodging artillery shells and seeing soldiers fall the day before--or perhaps the hour before. Everyone in the film crew would have been mentally and physically spent. The photographer was probably dumbstruck when stumbling upon this timeless scene and the idea of creating such a beautiful image.
So many years later, I was amazed to find these photos and couldn't wait until June 6 rolled around on the calendar to share them with you. I hope you will remember the importance of this day and all the people who died, and know that this day in history has many dimensions, and many stories that should be told again and again so we never forget.
--by Fran Jurga
Photo credit: Conseil Régional de Basse-Normandie / National Archives USA. Many thanks for the loan of these photographs.
© Fran Jurga and Hoofcare Publishing. No use without permission. You only need to ask.
Questions about this blog? Send email to hoofblog@gmail.com.
When the Republican Guard horses parade through Paris, the farrier goes along. Photographer friend Jim Freeman became intrigued by his frenetic activity as the horses approached. He said he acted like the stage manager for a rock concert. Notice the leather bag of shoes and tools over his shoulder...and he came to the parade dressed to work. I wish I knew his name. (Thanks, Jim, for the loan of this picture.)
