Chapter Three: The First Combat Jump

Summer 1944. Normandy, France, Planet Earth. “The D-Day Invasion,” World War II.

Corporal Roman Michaels stared out of the plane, knowing that in just a couple of hours he’d have to jump out of it into a sky heavy with bullets and anti-aircraft guns. He was nervous as he looked out across the channel, but he didn’t know any better to be afraid. Truth be told he was even a little excited; he wondered what combat would be like and if he’d go home a hero. Little did he know he was in way over his head, and he’d soon wish he were back home…wish he were anywhere, in fact, other than behind enemy lines in Normandy, France.

But, safe inside the plane for the moment, the only thing Michaels could concentrate on was how much his back hurt. He had so much gear on for this, that, and the other that he felt as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. And, in a way, he did. He was part of the D-Night invasion, going in and hitting the Germans before the rest of the infantry stormed the beachhead in the morning. He just didn’t know the significance of all this yet and, as they say, ignorance is bliss.

Corporal Michaels looked at the men sitting beside him. Most of them looked pretty calm on the outside, but Michaels knew that, like his own neutral expression, it was just an illusion. All of them probably felt a little scared and uncertain as to what the future would hold for them.

The young paratrooper looked down at his boots, but found he could not see them because of all the gear strapped to his chest. Mae West, reserve chute, weapon…so much stuff. Michaels wondered how in the hell they were going to use or even need all this stuff, but the answer would come soon enough.

A muffled metallic ping made all of the men look up. And then came another.

The corporal looked toward the front of the plane, where the troopers’ lieutenant was standing near the door.

“We’re gettin’ close, boys!” the lieutenant hollered over the roar of the engine. “Get ready to stand up and hook up, on my command!”

Oh, shit, Michaels thought, feeling the butterflies in his stomach really start to fly. This is it. This is really it. I can’t believe I’m going to be a part of this invasion.

“Ok, men! Stand up and hook up!” the lieutenant barked.

Please God, watch over me and my men, Michaels prayed as he labored to stand and hook himself to the cable in the plane.

The plane dove sideways suddenly, nearly sending all of the men back to their seats. All of a sudden, it seemed as if the whole entire German army had its weapons targeted on Michaels’ plane. The aircraft rocked back and forth, clearly displaying the pilot’s attempts at dodging the anti-aircraft weaponry on the ground.

“Sound off!” their lieutenant shouted, remaining calm despite the fact that the metallic pings were coming in a far greater frequency.

“Fifteen ok!” the trooper at the back of the plane called.

“Fourteen ok!” the next man yelled.

“Thirteen ok!” came another, and so it went on down the line of paratroopers.

After going through almost everyone in the plane, it was finally Corporal Michaels’ turn.

“Six ok!” he yelled as the plane jerked to the side. Michaels began to feel the fear in the pit of his stomach as he focused his eyes intently on the red light near the door. When it turned green, the first man would parachute out of the plane, and then the next, until Michaels himself would have to jump out into the dark, lead-filled sky.

After a few more moments of swaying in the air, Michaels saw the green light go on. His hands started to sweat and his breathing and heart rate became faster as he watched the first man jump out. I’ve trained hard for this moment, Michaels said to himself. I’ve parachuted tons of times, and we’ve done night drops, too. I’m prepared, and I will not freeze up at the door, he thought to himself. I will not.

As the men in front of him began jumping into the seemingly never-ending barrage of fire, Corporal Michaels was surprised to finally find that he was up. He placed his hands outside the door and just stared at the melee going on below him. Planes and bullets and paratroopers and anti-aircraft firing away, plus tracers lighting up the sky--everything happening all at once. All in one moment, Michaels’ fear hit him. This is suicide, Michaels thought. This is…

And suddenly Michaels found himself free-falling towards the ground, counting “One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand,” as per his training. At the number three, his parachute exploded open with unexpected force, and the corporal was jerked back. He looked down and saw that he was right in the middle of the fray, and the ground was coming up way faster than he had anticipated. He used his risers to aim his landing as well as he could, and he found himself on the ground in seconds. We must’ve been dropped from five hundred feet, he thought to himself. That’s way too low!

But now that he was on the ground, he had no time to think of the pilot’s mishap. He had to get out of his harness fast before the Germans found him.