CHAPTER 1 "The Courage it Took"

June 6 1944 (D-Day), 3000 feet above Normandy, France; First Wave of Drops; 0007 hours

Able Company, 506th Parachute Regiment; 101st Airborne Division

I woke up flimsily from my short sleep. The last thing I thought I remembered was that I was still in Greenham, gearing up for tomorrow's big day: D-Day. All of us shouted for joy when we heard about our immediate deployment 2 months ago in an American lodging in Northern Ireland. Well, I could tell that everyone was as enthusiastic as I am back then. And tomorrow is now today, up here in the skies above a country we were told to recapture.

I rubbed my eyes trying to snap out from my drowsiness. The sound of the airplane's mechanical purr and of hundreds of C-47s rumbling the skies finally leaped me back to reality. I looked around; trying to see how is everyone. It was kind of weird. No talk. No chatting. No nothing. Everyone was just blindly staring at anything that could be worth their attention within the cramped space of this flying hog. But I can't blame them. Being one of the first Allied soldiers that will be deployed into France is quite exciting and uneasy for all of us.

Putting myself back into the depths of my brain, I shut back into darkness, silence. It was the one time I have left to focus myself into the dares of today; previously briefed to us by Captain Collins. The last time I thought about our mission was at the briefing room. Then I tried to forget about it, to let myself be carried away by the senseless thrill of it.

Our mission was pretty simple: once inserted we are to sweep Beuzeville-au-Plain: the right flank of Ste. Mere-Eglise, a village in Normandy. Then it's all up to us to hold until the boys from the beaches can link up with us. The 101st Airborne's landing sites are 5 miles away from Utah Beach, shrinking the duration we had to defend the village in case of counter-attack.

But this is all if everything goes smoothly. And the Captain stressed IF; we really don't know what'll happen once we're there. He ordered us to memorize every map, every photograph and every mission detail of all of the units of the 101st just in case the drops went awry. Yeah, easier said than done.

"Hey, don't sleep now, Rob." Clyde patted me in the back.

"Huh?"

"Saw you closing your eyes, man."

"What? No, no. I'm just thinking."

McCarran spoke up, "Since when did you have the time to even think?"

"Shut up."

I knew what he meant. Hugh referred to that incident in training back in Camp Toccoa in Georgia. I don't want to even think about it. Call it embarrassment or my sense of pride. I almost got dismissed from the unit because of it, or in Sergeant Donnelly's terms, RTU.

"Wake and shake it fellas. Say hello to France!" Captain Collins shouted out.

Some of us were half-asleep. The flight from England en route to Normandy was drowsy at best, or maybe because it was just the night. The Captain's voice was a reality check; the dozed others began to blink, waking up from a brief freedom from the task at hand. I looked at my watch, a Rolex my father gave to me at my 18th birthday. It was 1:08 AM, 8 minutes past since the start of this day; of D-Day.

The cabin was suddenly illuminated by a faint red light; it was bright enough to wake up O'Shea from his sleep. He's at my right; probably fell asleep while reading the Bible.

"David! Hey!" I shook his shoulder

"Huh? Wha…what?"

"Red light means get your ass up." Clyde commented

"I was just resting my eyes, Shanny."

I took a few seconds to tighten the numerous straps wrapping my body with a lot of bags. I quite forgot which bag contained which, the adrenaline was partly building up as it begins to blank my thoughts. Aside from the standard gear, I brought with me an insect repellent and my diary. And, I think I left my pen.

"Alright guys stand up!" the Captain ordered. It was almost time.

Here we go…

Standing by the opened door, he was ready to guide us on our way down. And it is WAY down from up here. The cabin door gave me a clearer view at the outside; clouds covering the moon and stars amidst the blanket of the cold night. Below was a great mantle of forests, fields and several houses. It was hard to tell though; the only clue of a house from this altitude was the lights.

"Hook up!"

Then we fastened our chords.

"Equipment check!"

I began to secure the fastenings of Clyde's gear. My fingers were trembling; I'm only a few seconds away from jumping out into enemy territory and putting my life in the hands of God.

"Sound off for equipment check!"

Everybody was setting up each other. Soon numbers began to be shouted out in the air. Wesson's voice was the first heard, and soon it came down to me.

I yelled out, "5, OK!" my voice partly waned. The count off continued.

Once everything was set, Captain Collins replied "Alright, get ready ladies!"

Then we were enveloped in a complete silence, amidst the noise of the rumbling of plane and by the hundred others outside. My hearing was filtered suddenly. I came to look at the red light beside the door. As if I only wanted to hear the sound of the ping of it changing to green. Green means jump. Anticipation beaded my face with sweat, an unwanted reaction that I wasn't expecting. I was completely overcome with fear and excitement at the same time. This is it; the moment of we've been training for. Yet it was a moment deafeningly quiet. So quiet…

I could faintly hear the murmurs of O'Shea, praying to the ever-distant God for our safety. I could tell that others were doing the same. The gusts of the wind outside became harder as finally we broke out of the cloud covers up here in the skies of Normandy.

The pale spark of a distant explosion forced me to turn my head and look outside. It was followed by low bang, like thunder from a distance. The Germans were beginning to fire at us. Soon the lights get brighter and brighter, bigger and bigger. The noise of those flak shells bursting in the air was followed by the bang of the winds being shaken. I thought it was alright to play it safe and stay calm. But then there came fire. Some of the planes got hit, as the ground threat began to worsen. Cover was of no use now. The enemy finally saw us coming. The biggest invasion in history was underway.

"O my God! It's getting rough up here." McCarran commented as the plane began to rock by anti-aircraft fire just missing us by inches. Close-calls like that frightened us every second; almost panicking.

"Calm down! We'll be hitting them hard soon! Just calm down!" the Captain bid us.

I saw one plane being blown to pieces; no one has even jumped out yet from this wave I assumed. Tracers began to fill the sky as I can clearly hear the sirens from below. Smoke and metal were being ripped as the enemy relentlessly continued their seemingly unending efforts to stop us. The light once lit red suddenly blinked green in the cabin; my heart began to beat faster.

Then the Captain shouted out, "Sticks in the wind!"

I was taking deep breaths, like a weary runner who just finished a mile sprint. Soon the explosions got closer and closer to us. It was getting really bad and it was time to jump out. I am the 6th to parachute out of the plane and into the vast uncertainty below. The moment of truth…

"Go! Go! Go!"

First was Crawford, then Gallagher, then Mantarro, then Ellis…

"Clyde! Your turn!" Captain Collins ordered.

He had the knack to smile in the face of danger, saying "See you below Rob!" And he leapt out. It was hard to believe that I was next. Concentrating was no use. I peered outside, my hands clinging at my straps. The last thing I'll do was to piss on my pants. I'm about to find out the courage it took for the krauts to pull this off in Crete. Shit…

"Turner! Your next! Go!"

The scene was chaos outside. This was my first taste of war. I closed my eyes as every second synchronized to my heart beat. Freefall into Hell it was, I jumped.

"Here goes nothing!"

The rush of the wind and some billows of smoke suddenly hastened past my face. My chute opened, catapulting me slightly upward as air caught up with it. That gave me the scare; as if somebody pulled me. But the thrill of jumping out at 3000 feet was overwhelming. For the first time in my life, I felt the rush of a true leap of faith.

Somehow, everything around me slowed down. There are these instances in my life when I mindlessly savour moments; even if I don't want them. Call a time warp if you may, everything seemed and felt black and white; as quiet yet surreal like that guy Chaplin's silent films. It was awe, in a very different way, which I felt. 'Welcome to France', I said to myself. Or 'Welcome to Hell' as it resounded.

My decent was slow, but very violent. The Germans below began shooting the troopers that parachuted down. Flak shell bursts were missing me by a few metres.

I closed my eyes even harder, denying myself of anything from the harsh reality of the background around me. I simply thought that everything was going to be fine. Then I began to picture…home; Kansas. My parents, Tommy, Chris, George, Uncle Douglas, Gretchen, Mr. Doe… their faces suddenly began to picture. So, it is true. That, there are really times that you wish you haven't done this; regret. Like you regret staying up late to chat with a friend instead of hurrying home. Regretting about signing up? Can't say…

It seemed like an eternity as angels lowered me down to the ground. I mustered the strength to open my eyes. A tree was right below me. And I'm going straight to it. Impact was certain so I braced myself. Soon there was a violent thud up my face as leaves and branches broke apart. I was pulled back in a violent reaction; my straps may have caught something. Then it went black as my back slammed hard in the trunk. For the first time, there was pain.

For the first time, I made it in France.

-TO BE CONTINUED-