CHARLES NORMAN SHAY
Armed with only his two satchels of medical supplies, he maneuvered around the fallen to pull the living up on the beach. He’ll never forget the smell of burning flesh, vehicles and oil carried on the ocean breezes. “The seas were red with the blood. At the very beginning, it was
difficult for me to witness so much carnage. I had to push what I was experiencing out of my mind, so I could function the way I was trained to function. Then I was able to operate effectively and even saved a few lives. I have always been proud to be a medic. It’s a special privilege.” By noon, almost half of the soldiers and most of the officers in his
company were wounded or dead. Up to 3,000 Allied troops died, and some 9,000 were injured or classified as missing the day of the largest seaborne invasion in recorded history. Shay remembers cradling the critically wounded to give them
some comfort. He stayed with Private Edward Morozewicz, easing his passing. In 2017 Shay visited Morozewicz’s family, making sure they knew of Edward’s bravery, and he participated in a special cer- emony honoring his fellow medic. He still questions why he lived when Morozewicz perished. “I knew he was slowly dying. I bandaged his wounds and gave him morphine. But I knew there was no help for him,” says a somber Shay. Seven medics from his regiment were killed on D-Day and 24 others
wounded. “I am a great believer in a spiritual way of life. My mother’s prayers must have guided me.” For his gallantry that day, Private Shay was awarded the Silver Star.
In 2007 French President Nicolas Sarkozy honored him with the Lé- gion d’Honneur. He is one of two American Indian combat medics to survive the war, both without any injuries. On the 2017 anniversary of D-Day, he listened intently to the waves
lapping the shore, remembering his brothers-in-arms who died there 73 years ago, as he performed a sage-smudging ceremony at dawn.
34 AMERICAN INDIAN SUMMER 2018
“The ceremonies are my way of trying to take up contact with the spir- its of the brave men that remain there.” Since 2007 Shay has made the pilgrimage to Normandy nearly every
year. Wearing a deer-hide vest with the beaded design of a turtle on the back, he fans the smoke, created from burning tobacco, sage and sweet- grass, gently with an eagle feather, sanctifying the area. “I bathe myself in this smoke to cleanse my mind and my body of all
evil, concentrating very earnestly on the spirits of my fellow comrades- in-arms who are still there. I let them know they’re not forgotten.” Speaking openly about his wartime experiences during his first
visits to Normandy was a challenge, after being silent about them for more than 62 years. But the people of France eased his worries. “I was surprised to witness the sincerity of the citizens expressing their joy and gratitude at the liberation, after so many years. The gratitude was especially awe-inspiring and almost unbelievable.” His 2017 trip back to the war zone was different in a special way. His
nephew Timothy Shay assisted him in the ceremony, and the people of France honored him by dedicating a park on a bluff that overlooks Omaha Beach – to him and all American Indians who fought for the Allies during the war. The Charles Shay Memorial immortalizes the 175 Native Ameri-
cans who landed on Omaha Beach on D-Day. Only 55 of them have been identified. “Now, there is a plaque commemorating Indian soldiers who left
Turtle Island to help liberate our ancient French allies. An estimated 500 tribesmen participated in Operation Neptune (D-Day), as para- troopers or as ground troops landing on the beaches…these brave men have passed into the spirit world. We will not forget,” said Shay at the park’s commemorative ceremony, citing the Indian name for North America.
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