D-Day vet remembers that day, many more, at age 97
Story by Roxann Edsall
Photos by Richard Rybka
Robert L. Curl was just a boy, like so many others, when he enlisted in the Navy. It was the summer of 1943, just a day after graduating from Minor High School in Adamsville. He had to take his dad with him to sign his enlistment papers because he was only 17. “My dad told me he wished he could go with me,” remembers Curl. “He was the best man I’ve ever known.”
The next three and a half years would take him all over the world as a member of the special amphibious unit, “Scouts and Raiders.” A precursor to the modern-day SEAL teams, these special forces were expected to identify landing beaches for troops during World War II and to lead forces to those landing zones.
Curl was a radarman aboard a Landing Cruise Control (LLC) headed to Normandy leading up to D-Day. It was his job on LCC-10 to find Omaha Beach and lead the first two waves of soldiers ashore. “That morning I was scared to death,” he recalls, “But I told myself I’m going to do my best. They had me wear an impregnable suit with a special armband that would change color to let us know if the Germans were using poison gas.”
They had already practiced the invasion during a top-secret mission called Operation Tiger, performed less than two months before. To prepare the Allied Forces as much as possible, this full-scale rehearsal for D-Day took place on the south coast of England. “It’s a good thing we did it,” said Curl. “There was a problem with what they called the Mae West lifejacket. During Operation Tiger, these were new, and the soldiers didn’t wear them right. So many people died in the waters because of that. They learned from it and taught people how to use them right.”
At 97 years old, Curl is sharp as a tack and recalls stories with vivid detail. Despite the wartime and personal tragedy he has experienced, he is one of the most positive and genuinely happy people you could ever meet.
He spent more than 70 years with the love of his life, whom he met just before the war. When he talks about his Nell (Spring) Curl, his face beams.
He met her the first Sunday after his Methodist minister father moved them to a new town. “When we got to church that day, I saw the most beautiful girl in the world doing the devotion,” Curl tells. “I leaned over to the guy next to me and told him I was going to marry that girl.”
He had to wait until the end of the war, but in 1946, he married his sweetheart. He shows me a piece of Victory Mail (V-Mail) that he sent to her during Operation Tiger dated “April 1944 – from somewhere in England.” Though she passed away in 2015, he still talks to her every evening before bed.
Curl still drives and often goes on road trips with his two sons, Rick and David. He tells of his first car, long since traded. “Ever heard of a Crosley,” he asks. “I had a ’46 Crosley and it had a whopping 46-horsepower engine the size of a carton of cigarettes,” he adds, laughing.
