Chapter 2

In the morning, after an early breakfast, we loaded our pods into trucks and then got in ourselves. We would have a red cap escort all the way to Norfolk. I got into a card school. We played cards and chatted; some lads slept, and some wrote letters that they were told would not be posted until after the invasion.

We arrived at the RAF base in Norfolk, and we were led to a compound away from the main barracks. We were fed and watered and told to get our heads down.

Some lads slept some did not, I did not, we knew that the following evening we would be loaded onto a plane and dropped far into enemy territory all on our own. I wrote letters to my mother and my father.

The next day was sunny. We all checked our pods once, twice. three times.

Then we were marched over to the main barracks and given access to the RAFS games room, they lived the life of kings, they had snooker tables, dart boards, dominoes, playing cards the works. I would have loved a few pints of bitter, but the offices laughed off the idea.

Around five o’clock, food was brought in for us. We ate in silence. If we looked out of the window, we could see the RAF ground crew lads getting the aircraft ready.

An hour later we were dressed in our flight suits and had our parachutes strapped on. as we left the barracks the three majors and the training staff all shook our hands and wished us good luck.

We would jump with a knife, a map and compass, an entrenching tool, and Webley Mk. VI Revolver. We would have a flight suit over the clothes we had been given, French peasant clothes.

Our instructions were simple. Once we had left the plane and the parachute had taken us safely to the ground, we should strip off the flight suit and bury that and the parachute, then sit and wait. We were sure that Germans would be looking out for any sign of action. Once we had sat for an hour, if there was no noise, we should find our pods and then try to find somewhere to make camp.

There were six lads on the same plane as me. The noise of the engines was deafening. There was not much room as the plane would drop us and then make a bombing run on a German-held town to make it look less suspicious.

We would all jump at different places. The trip took three hours, and then one of the aircraft loaders told us to get ready. The bomb doors opened, and cold air filled the cabin.

We had all been told our jump number; mine was two.

I watched as the first lad jumped into the darkness, followed by the pod with all his gear in.

Half an hour later, the airman called my number. I will not lie; I was as nervous as a kitten.

I pulled on the straps holding my parachute, making sure they were tight.

The bomb bay doors opened, and I could feel the winding tugging at me. The aircrewman tapped me on the shoulder, and I stepped into the darkness.

The cold hit me hard, and then I felt the wind pushing and pulling at me.

I tugged the parachute’s activation strap. I felt the parachute unfurling and tugging at me.

Then, I was drifting in the darkness. I could see nothing but darkness. The noise of the plane had drifted and all around me was silence. It was eery drifting in the night sky.

I glanced down, I was over farmland. I was holding the parachutes stroud lines. I used them to slow down my descent and also to guide to me a bit of land that look flat.

The last thing I want to do was to fall on the landing and sprain an ankle or worse. I could see the pod that was coming down with all my gear around fifty yards away from me.

The last twenty feet seemed to take just a second. I hit the ground and rolled; at the same time, I was tugging on the parachute canopy stroud lines. I soon had it under control and wrapped up. I had my revolver out. if the Germans did come for me I would take a few out before they got to me.

I lay on the bundled-up chute, and I waited, almost not breathing; in my head, I was surrounded by German soldiers. I soon realised I was in a field, and the only thing surrounding me was corn.

As each minute went by my nerves settled. I glanced at my watch. I had been there for half an hour, and I had not been called out by the Germans.

We had been told to wait an hour. Fuck it, there was no point waiting around. I started to dig a hole. I dug a deep hole and stuffed my parachute into it. Then, I stripped off my flight suit and backfilled the hole.

Then, I headed in the direction of the pod. It took me half an hour to find it, I stuffed its chute inside it and then I lifted it up onto my shoulder. There was a stand of woods to my right; I headed over to it.

It was a risk; the woods could have a full division of panzers or Waffen SS hidden within it. As I hit the tree line, I had my handgun ready. It had six rounds, and if I were walking into a trap, I was going to take as many Germans down with me as I could.

I was lucky the wood was deserted; I walked into the trees for about thirty minutes. There was an old, broken-down stone cottage. I put the pod down, and with the Webley revolver in my hand, I scouted around to make sure it was deserted.

Once I was sure I was alone I went back and grabbed the pod, and walked over to the cottage. Three of the walls were intact as most of the roof. The chimney stack has fallen down. The was an old sink but no sign of running water.

It would be my home for the next few days.

I soon had my pod open; I got all the kit out and then went into the woods with the pod and the entrenching tool, it took longer to bury the pod it had the chute, but it needed to be well hidden.

Two hours later I was back in the stone cottage. It seemed like ages since I had eaten, I made a small fire and boiled up some water. A tea and cheese butty were what I needed right then. I got the radio out and I tapped out a message to tell the bosses back home that I was in position and safe and sound.

As I packed the radio away, I wondered how many of the lads had sent the same message.

While the water boiled, I made sure my weapons were ready. I would need to find out where I was when dawn broke.

I had a brew and butty, and then I curled up and tried to sleep.

June 1st, 1944 The dawn woke me, and it was a misty morning. I splashed some water on my face and drank some cold tea. Then, with my revolver in my hand, I went and explored the area.

The wood I was hiding in was huge, and I found a small river. I took a long drink of the cool, clean water and filled my water bottle; I followed the scream to where it joined a river. Along the far bank of the river was a road. I ducked down as I saw two German troop carriers trundling along.

A hundred yards up the river was a bridge, it had two guard boxes at the far side and just past that a hut with a German flag on a pole next to it. Men were milling around but they did not seem to be ready for action, most were in shirt sleeves and most of them seemed unarmed.

I could see men guarding the bridge, but they did not look like front line troops. I knew the bridge as I had been shown photographs of it. it now gave me a good idea of where the Anti-Aircraft guns would be. I headed back into the forest and found a path. The compass in my head told me which was the right way.

I headed up the path, half an hour later I saw two people coming toward me. They were a couple in their late sixties. The man had a bag in each hand and looked well laden down, the lady had a bottle of wine in one hand and loaf of bread in the other.

As we passed each other, we nodded, and they smiled. I took it from that that the peasant clothes I was wearing were doing the trick and that I looked like a local.

“Good day, Sir!” the old man said in French.

I replied in French. My nerves were on edge. If my accent was not great, they might report me to the Germans. My heart was pounding as we talked.

We chatted for ten minutes; they had been to the market in the town. They asked me where I was from. I said my home had been smashed down by the Germans to seat a gun battery, and they said it was happening all over the country.

If they did not believe me, they did not let on. I said I was looking for farm work in the area, and they told me the lady’s brother had a farm. They then told me where they lived and asked me to visit, and they would take me to his farm.

I said I would and bid them farewell.

I walked further down the track, and I could see the Anti-aircraft gun camp. I made sure I was not being watched and headed off the path and into the woods.

I found a place I could lay down and watch the camp. The river between the wood and the camp was not fast running and it did not look deep which was a good sign.

There were two guards wandering around, luckily for me they did not have dogs. I sat and watched the camp. The three guns were in a line, I could see some troops doing maintenance work on them. I counted over thirty guys around the camp. Again, most were unarmed. I saw one guy who looked like an officer wandering around shouting out orders.

There were huts, which I presumed were barracks or stores. I was amazed there were no fences. There was a stream that ran along the right-hand side of the little camp. That might come in handy. The photos we had been shown must have been taken by one of the members of the French resistance movement. The ones of the bridge had been taken by an aeroplane; it was obvious from the angle.