The Germans were still present on 7 June in the woods of the castle of Vierville, not to mention the isolated snipers that manifested themselves everywhere. Here is the story of a skirmish in the road ("The Ash Hunt") that separates Than's mansion from Vierville Castle.
"A platoon of about ten Americans had embarked on the path "The Ash Hunt" between two high walls, starting from the church to the west and towards the wood of the castle. They were in Indian line. At the end of the road, the fence wall of the wood, pierced by a murderer (where there is currently a door in the wall), barred the road. Some Germans were behind them, waiting for the Americans to get on the way to shoot automatic weapons. The Americans were surprised, without the possibility of sheltering themselves, no ditches along the large walls of the field of the "Bricsart" and the "Manor of Than". They were all shot down, except for the last one in the line that fell back to flat stomach, taking advantage of the fact that the path is slightly on the back of donkey. As soon as he was moving, he was shot, but only his backpack was shot.
Later (afternoon?) the Americans again tried to force the passage. They were unable to dispose of tanks. They went along the wall of Than's mansion again, but on the park side of the mansion. They thus approached the woods of the castle, and jumping over the large wall that borders the park of the manor to the west, they passed so in the return of the path "Chasse au Frêne". Then they hired the Germans who were in the wood, passing over the wall of the wood, and through the door that gave access to the wood from the South. A close fight with grenade and machine gun resulted in further losses to the Americans (8?) and the destruction of the group of 7 Germans who were in the woods."
Later (on 8 June?), a local woman (Madame Jeanne Colibeuf) crossed the woods from the castle and saw many corpses in the south-east corner, including a German lying across the back door of the wood.
Several years later, trees in this southeast corner had to be cut down and were found to be particularly affected by shrapnel and bullets, much more than other trees in the wood.
Here is a poem composed by Jean-Paul Hausermann, which evokes this battle:
In the little wood, behind my house,
On the morning of June 7, 1944,
Just 300 metres from the beach of OMAHA BEACH
nicknamed the "bloody" because 3,000 American soldiers had been killed there in half an hour, landing there the day before,
7 soldiers of the German Army were waiting: They had been ordered to defend...
That little wood, behind my house.
That same 7th June 1944 in the morning, 8 soldiers of the American Army, barely landed had been ordered to seize...
That little wood, behind my house.
The first attack was brief:
None of the German soldiers were killed or even wounded.
But only one of the American soldiers was not killed.
He's the one who told me the whole story about...
That little wood, behind my house.
It was at the beginning of the afternoon that the American soldiers returned, much more numerous.
The struggle was fierce, atrocious, horrific, without mercy, first with the grenade, with the rifle, then with the bayonet, and finally with the body-to-body.
Each equalled his adversary in courage and self-denial.
Nine other American soldiers were killed and wounded.
All 7 German soldiers were killed. None of them surrendered.
It was in this way that 23 soldiers gave their lives in the performance of their duty...
For that little wood, behind my house.
Most of these young men, both German and American, were just 17 and 18 years old.
They faced each other for a few moments of their short life to meet in anonymous heroism for eternity...
In the little wood, behind my house.
Since, sometimes, in the spring, when daffodils bloom there with their yellow glowing like a sun in a blue sky, or like a serene soldier's soul in the paradise of braves, some of these wild flowers have small red spots, like blood, without being able to say whether it is German or American blood, because the blood of all soldiers in the same color and it has mixed together, in the earth...
Little wood, behind my house.
When I cross him, I think of these 23 boys, but also those 23 moms who didn't see their child come back, and the likely engaged women to whom Lady War took their Loved...
For a little wood, behind my house.
I ask you, my brothers and sisters, to pray with me for them all, for these 23 families united by mourning and sorrow, but also a just pride in the duty performed in honor by their son...
In that little wood, behind my house.
I invite you, say that you come from the U.S.A., from Germany and we will go together, united as members of the same Christian family in peace thank and pray to God...
In the little wood, behind my house.
Jean-Paul HAUSERMANN
THE LITTLE WOOD BEHIND MY HOUSE
On June 7th 1944, early morning, barely 300 yards from Omaha Beach, nicknamed " the Bloody Beach" because 3,000 American soldiers had been killed there within 30 minutes trying to land the day before, seven German soldiers were waiting: they had been ordered to defend
That Little wood behind my house.
That same day, in the early morning, 8 US soldiers fresh off the boat were given order to seize
That little wood behind my house.
The first assault was brief,
not one German soldier was killed, nor even wounded,
but every US soldier was killed, but ONE:
he is the one who told me the story
Of the little wood behind my house.
In the early afternoon, the US soldiers returned to the fore,
far more numerous than before.
The battle was fierce, atrocious, horrifying, merciless.
It began with grenades, then guns, bayonets,
and finally ended in hand-to-hand combat,
each opponent a model of courage and self-sacrifice.
Nine more US soldiers were killed, countless others wounded.
Of the German soldiers, none would survive, none would surrender.
This is how 23 soldiers gave up their lives to fulfill their duty
For the little wood behind my house.
Most of these 23 young men, both German and American,
were 17 or 18; For a few moments of their short lives, they came face to face in an act of anonymous heroism for Eternity
In the little wood behind my house.
Sometimes in the spring, when daffodils are in bloom as bright and yellow
as the sun in a dear blue sky,
or as serene as the soul of a soldier in the paradise of the braves,
a few wild flowers are spotted with red patches like blood
Nobody can say whether this is American or German blood, because
the soldiers blood combines as one colour in the soil
Of the little wood behind my house
Whenever I walk through it, I think of these 23 boys,
but I also remember their mothers who never welcomed their sons home
and their sweethearts from whom "Lady War" took their beloved.
For the little wood behind my house
My brothers and sisters, let us pray for them all,
for these 23 families united by mourning and sorrow,
yet justly proud of their sons' honourable service
In the little wood behind my house.
I extend an invitation, whether you come from the United States or Germany
let us gather together, united as one Christian family at peace,
to thank God and offer our prayers,
In the little wood behind my house.