THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, June 5, 1994 TAG: 9406050059
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
SOURCE: BY MASON PETERS, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: 940605 LENGTH: ELIZABETH CITY
Cyrus Caleb Aydlett is 85 now, still as slim and trim as he was as a young Coast Guard lieutenant who paid his bloody dues at Utah Beach, at Iwo Jima, at Okinawa, and then returned without personal fanfare to build a modern Elizabeth City.
{REST} Cyrus is one of the Albemarle boys who went off to war after Pearl Harbor and then came back to mind his own civilian business.
And if it hadn't been for Augusta Walker Aydlett, a doctor's daughter who married Cyrus a year before he joined the fight, nobody would know about what happened to him in Normandy - or at Iwo Jima and Okinawa and all those other battle scenes.
Only recently did Augusta Aydlett, now 80, finish typing an inch-thick manuscript of the dimming memories that are now her husband's wartime ``diary'' - 50 years after the events:
``The (USS Bayfield) sailed for Plymouth, England, where it underwent its first air attack from Nazi planes . . . which I remember as the most frightening experience of my life to that time. . . ''
The Bayfield was an APA, a high-speed Navy troop transport and combat cargo carrier that ranged all over the European war theater and then went on to the Pacific for the assault on Japan. Lt. Aydlett was the coding officer in the Combat Information Center, with collateral duties that involved keeping track of everything needed to fight a war on a murderous enemy shore.
``Allied bombers are roaring overhead toward the beaches we are to take. Enemy AA fire can be seen the entire length of this horseshoe-shaped bay - Utah Beach - which extends for twenty-five miles. A solid sheet of flame covers the entire area. . . ''
To make it tougher for the young Coast Guard officer, the Bayfield was a flagship that carried an admiral and a mixed crew of Coast Guard and Navy officers and men. The attack transport could launch 24 landing craft, each loaded with 38 combat infantrymen for the trip to the blazing beaches.
``Standing on the boat deck I was suddenly filled with emotion; choked with compassion for these tense soldiers waiting to go over the side to the boats . . . nervously adjusting their packs; fitting their bayonets; puffing on cigarettes.
``There was silence, except for the loading officer who was calling each man by name and sending him to a waiting boat below. If only someone would give these boys a word of encouragement; tell a joke; anything. . . ''
For a long time Aydletts have been serving North Carolina. The first of the Albemarle Aydletts was a French Huguenot refugee named David Aydelotte who settled in 1779 near what is now Powells Point in the south end of Currituck County. Before him an even earlier Aydelott (or Aydlette or Aydelotte) sought political freedom on the Maryland Eastern Shore in 1670, and the menfolk have been fiercely loyal to their adopted country ever since.
Cyrus is the fifth of 10 children born to Nathaniel and Lydia Duncan Aydlett. Nathaniel ran a store and post office in Currituck, and the soundside community of Aydlett is named after him. Nathaniel, too, is remembered as a ``rather quiet man.''
``Beachheads established. Three small boats sunk. Battleships, cruisers, destroyers, shell shore installations. About 30 casualties are brought aboard from the beach, some in bad shape. Three die.
``A British minesweeper pulls in front of us to clear a channel as we move nearer the (Utah) beach. The minesweeper falls victim of an acoustical mine; huge explosion; she sinks in two minutes - only seven survivors.''
Casualties from the fighting for the beaches soon filled the Bayfield with wounded, many of whom died. Aydlett was responsible for sorting and forwarding to grieving mothers the personal effects of the dead men, a duty that troubled him deeply throughout the war.
``Two enemy soldiers with arm and shoulder injuries were brought into the Supply Office. One was a veteran of the invasion of Crete and a member of Rommel's Afrika Corps. The other was a lad of eighteen; very nice looking. They thought they would be executed and couldn't understand why we gave them so much medical attention, cigarettes, candy, etc.
``One of our airborne troops had both arms shattered and both arms are to be amputated due to his gangrenous condition - even his privates have turned black. The stench is awful. . . ''
The Bayfield also took aboard a wounded French woman, who was identified as a sniper for the Germans after she was captured at an enemy strongpoint.
``The woman is more of a curiosity than all the other prisoners put together. Her story is that she was kept prisoner in her own house. She was wounded when mortar shells dislodged several Germans barricaded in and around her yard.
``Now she has not one but two holes in her fanny and also a shoulder wound.''
The Bayfield remained anchored close to the beach for more than three weeks, under day and night air attack, and with all hands constantly expecting an underwater mine detonation.
``General Quarters, as usual, was sounding around 2:30 a.m. when a terrifying explosion caused the ship to vibrate violently - doors rattled; chairs, ink stands, waste baskets and other movable objects became suddenly alive.
``I may have been shaking with fright, but kept telling myself that it was the chill of the morning air . . . I get a report that fire has broken out in No. 5 Hold.
``Terrific blasts as our forward five-inch gun goes into action.
``We had not been hit; an enemy plane had released his bomb a second too late and it fell 50-yards off No. 5 Hold on our port side. Smoke detectors set off by the vibration.
``Things are never so serious but that someone doesn't have a snappy retort. One of our boys promptly said, `Bet there are a lot of dirty drawers on this ship right now'. . . ''
Aydlett went ashore to inspect the beachhead.
``We meet thousands of our boys burdened with their packs, wet to the waist, yet smiling and singing as they trudge toward the front an hour's hike westward. . . ''
Nothing lasts forever, and 25 June 1944 was special to the crew of the Bayfield: ``
``At last the good word has come - we are getting underway for Plymouth and then maybe home . . . . But we are soon informed that we are to take aboard a six months supply of stores.''
The new cargo was for another war zone - the invasion of the south of France. During a brief stay in England, Aydlett went to London to pick up a supply of money for the Bayfield and heard several buzz-bombs fall nearby - the forerunners of the gulf war Scud missiles. On the way to the Mediterranean, the ship was again under air and submarine attack.
``There just isn't another sound like a five-inch shell when it swooshes overhead. It seems to thrill rather than terrify, that is, if they're not too close. . . ''
D-Day in the south of France was Aug. 15, 1944.
``We hear the crump-crump of bombs as the Air Force lays them on the beaches. Warships all around open up on the hilly shores. Landing boats are racing beachward. . . ''
The new invasion succeeded rapidly. Soon Aydlett was again ashore, but to a far different welcome than in Normandy.
``Small children with GIs are busy filling small bags with sand from the beach. Tanks and trucks roll steadily through the town toward the front eight miles away. The French are extremely happy; bonjours on every hand.
``Patriots have rounded up 15 women that had associated with German occupation forces. They were brought into the town square where each one's head was shaved. No other punishment. . . ''
German air raids are constant and the flagship of the senior naval commander is hit, killing four and wounding 40.
``I've begun to feel the effects of the war on my nervous system - poor appetite; indigestion. Much more jumpy than ever before.''
Soon orders arrive sending the Bayfield to Norfolk in October 1944 for refitting before sailing on to Pacific duty. Aydlett sees his wife, Augusta, and the first of his three daughters.
Iwo Jima and Okinawa soon followed in early 1945 - bloodier invasions than Aydlett ever saw in Europe.
``Today there was no progress for us on the (Iwo Jima) beach as every boat is shelled as soon as it lands. Casualties are coming back as fast as we can put the men ashore. Running 25-percent to 80-percent at present. First beach party completely wiped out. Shells begin to splash all around us. Beaches are blocked with wreckage making it almost impossible to unload. Suicide bombers hit some of our carriers.''
And then Okinawa on 1 April, 1945.
``Mormon, Jewish, Catholic and Protestant services held tonight on the mess deck - looked like all of the 2,000 aboard were present.
``Suicide plane hits another APA on our port beam. LST also hit. Battleships New York and New Mexico hit and also the heavy cruiser Indianapolis. U.S. Destroyer sunk by Kamikazi. Tokyo claims 105 ships hit; 59 sunk.''
Friday 13 April, 1945.
``News of President Roosevelt's death.''
Finally, after 12 days operating close to the Okinawa beaches, the Bayfield is pulled out, mission accomplished.
``Received my own orders to States on 18 April. My relief hasn't reported aboard, so have to make a trip to Guadalcanal. No escort destroyers.''
Aydlett remains aboard the battle-scarred Bayfield, hauling cargo in island-hopping runs to far Pacific islands where the Navy had built bases for the final, expected invasion of Japan. At Guam, the ship finally gets stateside orders, carrying Aydlett with it.
``July 30, 1945, at 1545 (3:45 p.m.) cast lines to Pier Seven, San Francisco. My relief came aboard. . . . ''
From a U.S. Coast Guard news release issued last week:
Fifty years ago, Coast Guard Lieutenant Cyrus C. Aydlett, now of Elizabeth City, N.C., was preparing for the June 6, 1944, invasion of Normandy, France. He was an officer on the U.S.S. Bayfield (APA-33), flagship of the admiral commanding the assault on Utah Beach.
Fifteen hundred fully equipped soldiers were put on Utah Beach by the Bayfield's crew that day.
The Bayfield remained off the coast of France for 19 days after D-Day, and survived two German bombing attacks, one inflicting minor damage to the engine room. She treated wounded soldiers, one night receiving over 300 casualties. . .
Cyrus Caleb Aydlett came home as closemouthed as ever. To this day, few know of the peril he knew in World War II. He is best remembered as the young developer who built Southgate Mall, the first big-city shopping area in the Albemarle, as well as Edgewood shopping center and other northeastern landmarks.
Not long after Aydlett returned from the wars, he acquired the identity of an ``investment banker,'' a title as vague as ``entrepreneur'' or ``financial consultant,'' but in Elizabeth City it sounded better.
``Cyrus always put away a little something from every paycheck,'' said Augusta, who would have made him do it in any event. The accruing clout from stocks and real estate allowed Aydlett to swing his shopping mall deals.
Sadly, Aydlett is still fighting.
In 1987 he suffered a crippling stroke that Augusta thinks would have finished most men there and then. ``He's been rehabilitating himself ever since,'' she said. ``He's walking again, managing his business and telling me to stop fussing at him.''
At the Aydlett home on Rivershore Road, there are the medals and the old photographs of the Bayfield.
And a fine portrait of young Lt. Cyrus C. Aydlett, dashing in dress blues.
For Aydlett it is a rare day in his 85 years that doesn't come with some thought of less fortunate men who remain behind on the long, dark road that leads back through Normandy; past splintered Belleau Woods of World War I; back to pink peach blossoms at Shiloh, spattered red by the blood of Civil War brothers. by CNB