AN historic and nostalgic week of commemorations is under way to remember the momentous events in Normandy 60 years ago. This week the Daily Echo speaks to those involved in the greatest seaborne invasion, troops who embarked from Southampton and the south coast for one of the defining moments in history...

WITH the passing of the years memories fade, but for one former Southampton born Royal Navy officer his experiences as a teenager on the bloody beaches of Normandy on June 6, 1944, are etched indelibly on his mind.

As a 19-year-old Sub Lieutenant, Brian Carter found himself in the thick of the action as the biggest invasion force the world had ever seen stormed ashore to signal the beginning of the end for Hitler.

Now his memories as second-in-command of a landing craft on D-Day have been brought together in a new book, Normandy Landings, to mark the 60th anniversary of Operation Overlord.

Originally born in Bassett, Southampton, the author, pictured above today, who now lives in Cambridge recalls the training for D-Day, the agonising wait for the orders that would launch the attack, the invasion itself and the days that followed the historic landings.

This is part of his description, in his own words, of the day that changed history . . .

"The hour of midnight had passed and all of us were feeling extremely tired, having not had any proper rest since we set off on the 4th. None of the crew or the troops were seasick, possibly thanks to the tablets they had been given. There must have been some on other craft going through the debilitating effect it can have - often making people wish they could lie down and die

I look back and wonder whether I was frightened at the time about what we would meet on the beaches, but I think the state of tiredness I was in subdued any feeling of nervousness.

Nearing the coast we could see the beach ahead, and could hear the noise of shellfire and our rocket ships, which were pounding the beaches.

We saw some of the floating tanks. Many had been launched far too early and were struggling against the waves that were almost too much for them. Many submerged long before they reached the beach with considerable loss of life. Some of the small landing craft were overcome by the waves and sank leaving the soldiers to swim for the shore with all their heavy gear. Many, unfortunately, drowned.

Along with many other craft, due to the strong tide that was running, we did not land on our designated beaches. We were late on arriving and, turning towards the beach, came under considerable gunfire. I joined the skipper on the bridge, who was looking for a good landing place through binoculars. Owing to tiredness and possibly what he could see on the beach, he turned to me and said: 'This is too much for me, Brian, take over,' and collapsed under the chart table.

I picked up the binoculars and saw bodies floating near the beach, some floating upside down. As we headed for the beach I realised that we would have to land on top of them, but in no way could we abort the operation.

We carried on relentlessly until we beached, having dropped our anchor astern in order to hold us square on the beach and not drift sideways.

The door was dropped, the first tank started to roll off, the officer in charge standing head and shoulders out of the tank was shot in the head, dropping back into it.

It was probably the first time any of us had been in action, or at least seen someone shot. Bullets were still flying round the craft and one almost spent bullet, having ricocheted off the side of the tank deck hit me fair and square on my forehead, knocking me over.

For a second I thought the bullet had gone right through, as I felt a pain in the front and back of my head, but I soon realised the bullet had done little damage other than make a slight dent in my skull.

Due to the fact that we were late on landing, the tide was dropping and the craft was well aground, and we thought it best to take cover on the beach in a type of bunker that contained a few dead. Here we were reasonable safe, and planned to go back on board as as the tide returned.

The crew appeared reasonably calm. One or two were shivering and shaking, while others held back their nervousness. It was pitiful later on to see an officer sitting in the sand making sandcastles, having gone completely out of his mind, and one could not help wondering whether those who had complete breakdowns ever recovered.

As soon as the ship started to float again we re-embarked and with night starting to fall we moored alongside a ship ready to embark lorries to be landed in the early hours of the next day.

This gave us a few hours rest although resting was not quite the right word for it. With all the noise going on and the clattering of the ship being loaded, it was hardly giving one the opportunity to clear one's mind which was filled with the horror of the last 24 hours.''

Normandy Landings, A 19-year-old's diary with unique photos by WB Carter is published by Athena Press and costs £8.99.