A D-DAY veteran who hit the headlines 60 years ago will relive the moment he faced death, this weekend.

Royal Marine commando Ray Bishop was only 100 yards up Sword Beach on the morning of June 6, 1944, when shrapnel from a German grenade hit him in the face.

Now, 60 years on, he will remember his brave comrades from his Worcester home as thousands gather on the Normandy beaches.

It was third time unlucky for Ray that fateful day - he had already survived the relentless and bloody assaults at Sicily and Salerno.

But his wound meant he hit the headlines as the war hero's "third time unlucky" status was just the ticket for hacks on the homefront.

And, this week, his heroic tale was featured in a souvenir supplement in the Daily Mail.

THE D-Day Landings were one invasion too many for Royal Marine commando Ray Bishop. Having survived the bloody assaults at Sicily and Salerno with not much more than a scratch, he was only 100 yards up Sword Beach on the morning of June 6, when his "Blighty One" arrived

Shrapnel from a German grenade or mortar hit him in the face, knocking him out and temporarily blinding him.

When Ray came to, medics were bending over him on the sand as battle raged all around. Although his sight returned fairly soon after, his wounds needed dressing and in short order, Cpl Bishop of 41 Commando and Little Chestnut Street, Worcester found himself back out at sea on board the hospital ship St David.

Ironically, as a member of the walking wounded, he was to receive more attention from the Press than if he'd scorched up the beach blasting his Piat gun.

Back in England, the media were allowed to interview certain patients at the military hospital near Basingstoke and Ray was one of them.

His story of "third time unlucky" was just what the hacks were looking for and it made headlines in both the Daily Mirror and Daily Mail.

In fact this week, the Mail has been re-printing souvenir issues to commemorate Operation Overlord and whose story should feature in the pages of the edition of Friday, June 9, 1944, but Ray Bishop. Or "Marine R. Bishop of a Commando unit", as he was described then.

No doubt sub-editors in 1944 looking for a bit of morale-boosting copy for the folks back home were much heartened by what he said.

And I quote.

"I'd a fair chance of judging some of the Jerries because I was put in charge of seven prisoners to take to a landing craft and out to the ship.

"They were men about 35 and I did not think much of them. They were not good soldiers: certainly not what you would call first class soldiers.

"One tall chap said to me, 'We've no chance of winning the war. I am glad the end is in sight now.' They did not strike me as men ready and willing for battle."

Whether Ray, who is now 81, actually put it that way, I'm not sure. Having spoken to him in his present home in Lichfield Avenue, Worcester, I can detect the influence of an unseen hand in the presentation of those words. But his sentiment remains the same.

"Because I was walking wounded and had a gun, I was given half a dozen prisoners to take back on a landing craft," he said.

"Some of them were white Russians who had been captured on the Eastern Front and were being forced to fight for the Germans. But you could tell their heart wasn't in it. It seemed like they'd packed up as soon as they could. They certainly weren't like the German paratroopers we'd faced elsewhere.

"They had a German corporal, but even he didn't seem to want to know. He actually gave me a penknife as a souvenir, but I don't know what happened to it. I must have lost it.

"I suppose it wasn't really fair to ask me what it was like on D-Day because I was only on the beach for such a short time. But certainly on our beach it wasn't anywhere near as bad as Sicily or Salerno.

"And I've got the greatest respect for any soldier who fought in Burma during the Second World War, because there they weren't only fighting the enemy, but the jungle as well, all the snakes and leeches and diseases. At least we knew what was in front of us."

Wounds

Ray joined up in 1941 with his mate, Worcester heavyweight boxer George Manley, when the pair went to the recruiting office next to the Imperial pub in St Nicholas Street.

Because of his wounds, which included shrapnel lodged behind an eye, he was discharged in 1945 and went back to being a Co-op dairyman delivering milk around the Tolladine area of Worcester, a job he did until retiring 16 years ago.