Norman Scheutrumpf doesn’t often think about D-Day - the first day Allied Forces started their offensive on the shores of Normandy Beach.

The 95 year old keeps his mind off of the World War II era invasion, which killed more than 4,000 Allied troops on June 6, 1944 alone, because for him, it’s not just history. It’s a memory.   

Scheutrumpf was born and raised in Tamaqua. One of seven children, his favorite pastimes were swimming or playing ball. He split his Saturday nights between the Victoria or Majestic movie theaters, where he could catch a double feature for just 10 cents.

Scheutrumpf was a senior in high school when the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service performed a surprise military attack on the U.S. naval base Pearl Harbor in Honolulu, Hawaii. The next day, America formally entered WWII.

That’s when Scheutrumpf decided to enlist.

“I wasn’t quite 19,” he said. “They wouldn’t bother with me.” He had to wait until the September following his graduation to join the Army.

Scheutrumpf served in the Military Police after Germany’s Afrika Korps in Africa surrendered. He was of the soldiers charged with transporting enemy troops to the states, where they were held in prison camps throughout the country.

During on of his transports, Scheutrumpf noticed a few of the prisoners staring out of their windows, taking in the countryside. They seemed at peace, joyful even.

Scheutrumpf approached one of the prisoners and asked why.

“He said, ‘you know what, we’re still alive here, and we’re out of the war,’” Scheutrumpf recalled.

Scheutrumpf’s next role took him to Atlanta, Georgia, where an officer told him he was no longer military police; he was going to be a combat medic. The role required six weeks of training, but Scheutrumpf said not every lesson he was taught was useful on the battlefield.

“A medic got mess, I’ll tell you that,” he said.

His experiences may be more than seven decades old, but Scheutrumpf can remember his four years of service in detail. He recalls acquaintances, patients and near-death experiences with ease.

He remembers taking his first inhale from a cigarette, after a fellow soldier told him, “puff away. You’ll need it.”    

But there are some memories Scheutrumpf wishes he can forget - like the day his unit stormed the beachheads of Normandy.

Scheutrumpf said he felt an abrupt halt when the craft hit land. The door separating the soldiers from the sand dropped to the ground. Men started shouting at the soldiers, commanding them in every direction.

“That’s all you could hear,” Scheutrumpf said.

He found one man suffering from burns, but could not determine the cause. The man’s lips, nose and ears had been scorched off. The only thing the medics could do was give him penicillin - an attempt to stave off infection.

“We couldn’t do much for him where we were at,” Scheutrumpf said. “That’s the way it was.”

Scheutrumpf was told the man was put on a plane, bound for England. He said to this day, he still thinks about that soldier.

Scheutrumpf was discharged in 1946. He came home to Tamaqua, taking a job at the Atlas Powder Company. That same year, he married Verna Cook. The two had a daughter and named her Charlotte.

Cook died in 1964. About a year later, Scheutrumpf met a woman named Mabel Neifert, after Mabel’s aunt introduced them.

Scheutrumpf and Mabel went to see a movie. After that, they “just started to go together a little bit,” according to Scheutrumpf. They married in 1969, and moved to Hometown. The two now live in a suite in Providence Place, a retirement community in Drums.

Their room is marked by a shadow box draped in an American flag, which holds pictures of Scheutrumpf and Mabel, and a portrait of Scheutrumpf in uniform.

In fact, Scheutrumpf has kept a few pictures from his service days.  

“We had some good things. I met a lot of different people, a lot of guys,” he said.

Caption: 

Norman Scheutrumpf dons a World War II veteran hat on the eve of D-DAY's 75th anniversary. DANIELLE DERRICKSON/TIMES NEWS

A shadow box holds displays a portrait of Scheutrumpf in uniform from his days in the Army. DANIELLE DERRIÇKSON/TIMES NEWS