This story is weird, but I think it's okay.


November 11, 1942
Camp Toacca

Well, I've done it. I've signed up for the paratroopers and there's no going back now.

It seemed so long ago when I was standing in front of the house, on the porch, saying goodbye to my parents. That porch is brand new, you know. Installed a week before I left. I wonder if it will live longer than I will.

Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so morbid. I just got into camp, after all. No telling what I'm going to do, where I'm going to go. For all I know they could be sending me to the rear where I sit behind the desk all day, typing reports.

But anyway, when I left Mom was crying her heart out. Why wouldn't she? Jim, he signed up before me, he's going to be a paratrooper too. They'll probably send him to some dangerous spot like Africa or Italy. Paul, he's already gone. He was on the USS Arizona when she got hit. And Harlon's off too, set on becoming a Marine.

Mom already saw three sons off to war. She didn't want me to go too. But I had to. I have a duty to this country. This is my home, this is my life. I could've just stayed at home, I guess. Go to work producing Shermans or something. But what if everyone thought the same way? Then no one would be fighting, everyone would be cooped up at home, and by the time we realize our mistake, and go off to fight, there won't be anything left to fight for.

Dad was expressionless, as usual. He just grabbed my hand, shook it, wished me luck and that’s all there was to it. No tearful farewells, no hugs, nothing. But I know he loves me all the same.

Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing, risking my life, playing with it so dangerously. But it's my home, it's my country, and I'll do whatever it takes to save it.

***

Dear mom

Thanks for your letter. I hope that Uncle Roy is feeling better now. Sorry to hear about Timmy. Please send my condolences. You may ask why I'm being so offhanded, indifferent about his passing, but this is war, you know. People, millions of them, die in war. You live or you die and the difference is a very thin line. Soldiers who come back from the war are just as scarred – emotionally – as their dead friends are physically. Don't tell dad, but just look at him. He fought in the Great War, that's what you always say. You always told me that before the war, he had been cheerful, happy, talkative. How he could not keep still or keep quiet for a moment. Well, now he isn't like that. Now he just sits there, silent, still, stoic, not saying anything, not doing anything. Something has obviously happened to him.

Please don't tell me I'm going to come back like this. I'll try my best not to, but please don't say that. I know I'll come back, eventually. One day. No matter what happens I'll come home.

***

1943
Fort Benning

We're in Fort Benning now, the Airborne school where we're going to do what we came here to do. We've already passed Stage A, the physical toughening-up. The N.C.O.s supposed to instruct us were a joke. We were much fitter than them, thanks to Colonel Sink and Major Strayer. Company A arrived first, outran the N.C.O.s, and that's why we're all skipping Stage A.

Then it's Stage B. Jumping down this mock tower, practicing how to land, packing parachutes, all that sort of thing. Stage C is the same. All practice, doing it over and over again.

Stage D is the real thing. The actual jump. I've never been on a plane before, and neither have a lot of my pals. But it's just this thing flying through the air. How bad can it be?

***

Dear mom

I don't know whether you're like me, but if you are and if somebody ever asks you to go on a plane, bring a long a lot of paper bags. I went on my first jump today. It was terrible. The plane rolled and bounced and I couldn’t take it and threw up. And then the guy in front of me looked at me and lost his lunch, and so it went. And to think I was right at the back, the last man out! But when I was out, and the parachute jerked and opened, the feeling was awesome. It's not describable to a person who's never done it. You're in the air, with other high spirited soldiers, waving, laughing, free. Now I know how birds feel and why they go flying so often. There aren't any restrictions up there. You can do whatever you want.

***

1943
Somewhere in the Atlantic

I'm on my way to jolly old England now, a country I've never seen before. (Then again, I've never seen any country save good old United States of America before.) I hate this ship we're on. It stinks, the grub is foul ( do the chefs wash at all?) and everybody is seasick. I've been sleeping on the floor three days straight now. Not very comfortable, sleeping on the floor. If you can afford a proper bunk, use it. Don't ever try sleeping on the floor.

Every day is spent playing, gambling. Craps, poker, gin, hearts. Better than doing nothing, I guess. Keeps your mind off from the seasickness too.

This ship wasn't meant to take so many people at once. It's cramp and overcrowded. That's why I've been sleeping on the floor. Joe McIntyre - funny chap, his Scottish accent is hardly understandable but he's good fun to have around - he's been sleeping on the bunk for three days now, and we're supposed to be sharing. Tonight, no matter what, I will sleep in a bunk. Even if it means sleeping in a bunk with a Scotsman whose idea of a joke is sliding a frog down your trousers.

***

1943
Aldbourne, England

They sure aren't going to give us anymore passes to London. Some of the boys got a pass to London, went there, got into a fight, broke some of the local boys' noses and started what we now call "The Great London Bust Up".

***

Dear mom

You wouldn't guessed what happened today. I jumped out of the plane for the fifth time and didn't wreck it! Today was the proudest moment of my life, when my wings were finally pinned on me. I earned them, mom. All my hard work's been worth it.

***

1943
Aldbourne, England

Awesome! The 82nd airborne has been used! Finally, the first Airborne Division to go into action. They jumped into Sicily on the 9th of July. Worst friendly fire disaster, too. A heck of a lot of planes were shot down by our own ships. But never mind, we're back in business now. Jim jumped with the 82nd. He's a real paratrooper now. Sure, I earned my wings, but I've never jumped into combat before. Those are two different things, training and combat. I hope Jim's okay. It wouldn't do for my mom to lose another son.

***

Dear Jim

Glad to hear from you. You're alright now, then? You sure did give mom a scare with your Prisoner of War status. How did you escape? You have to tell me, it could be useful for when I'm captured. Anyway, good luck for the invasion.

***

5 June 1944
England

Well, this is it. I'm about to jump into France in the largest invasion ever mounted. We're all overloaded - carrying our body weight in guns, ammunition and equipment. Wish me good luck.

***

Dear mom

What a battle! On that plane I was frightened out of my wits. Especially when we ran into Flak Alley and our plane's wing got hit and started to burn. We were out of there mighty fast. Joe McIntyre and I met up on the ground. We hiked to our HQ at [censored] and met up with the rest. Mind you, we were dropped so far away that we took two days to get there.

I killed my first man. He jumped out of nowhere and I just shot him. I hated it. It's not right to kill your fellow man, especially if he's just another guy forced into the army by Hitler. I didn't want to squeeze the trigger. But I had to, because it's war. In war you kill or be killed. But that's no excuse, and I don't feel much more than a murderer now.

***

1944
Aldbourne, England

We're back in England! Celebration. But honestly, these Generals aren't very smart. They gave us one week passes to London of all things! Well, we went to all the pubs in town. Everyone wanted to buy us a drink. But the real trouble started at one of the pubs when we met some blokes from the 82nd. It was "The Great London Bust Up II". Simply put? No more London passes.

***

Dear mom

I can’t say much - it's top secret, but by the time you get this I'll probably be in [censored]. Yep, you got it - we’re jumping again! It's going to be a combat jump. No guarantee the censor won't spot this but anyway, can't blame me for not trying, the date's [censored]. Wish I could tell you more, but the damn [censored] will probably [censored] this. The [censored] has a real sense of humor, let me tell you that. One of my pal's letters got [censored] all the way through! Anyway, Jim should be jumping too. Wish us good luck, mom.

***

1944
Eindhoven, Holland

There's nothing to complain about, really. The jump was perfect. No flak, no Germans, just blue skies and white clouds and thousands of parachutes in the air. My heart swelled in pride at the sight of all the men - my division, you know, mine - so happy and carefree although they're on the road to yet another battle. We'll show them what we're made of.

The moment we landed everything went like clockwork. Up in a flash, assembling our weapons while running to the "finish line", the assembly point. Then we set off.

Eindhoven was full of happy, happy people, happy like only liberated people can be, waving orange flags and holding beer bottles, literally pushing fresh bread and wine into our faces. The Dutch are a great people.

One man came up to me and said, "Do you know what freedom is?"”

I looked at him and I shrugged, because I didn't know what to say. What he said next I'll always remember.

"No you don't",” he said. "Because you don’t know what freedom is until it’s been taken away from you."”

***

Dear mom

We're back in France and licking our wounds. The Jerries beat us back. I pity the boys at Arnhem. They fought like the good, brave men they were. I only wish XXX Corps had gotten there in time.

***

1944
France

Well, they've done it again. Trust the Krauts to come up with something stupid like this. They've broken through the Ardennes and now because the Generals have no one else they're sending us to plug the gap. Who's "us"? Paratroopers.

The 82nd is being sent somewhere else. We 101st Airborne troops are going to go to this little town called Bastogne. I guess we'll have to defend it.

***

1944
Belgium

Every day it's shelling, more shelling. We just sit and try to take whatever the Krauts throw at us. We try to advance? They beat us back. They try to advance? We beat them back. So we just sit in our foxholes, waiting for a shell or a tree to kill us. And if that doesn't kill us then the cold will. It's freezing here. Our butts are probably frozen to the foxholes. I hate this. It's cold and we don't have ammo or food. Merry Christmas.

***

Dear mom

Hurrah! The Germans are being pushed back. They’ve surrendered! The war is over! I’m in Berchtesgaden now. Hitler’s old hideout! It’s the life here. They have wine, girls, everything over here. By the way, the girls are all very nice, but don’t worry, they’re only interested in my friends.

I wonder how Jim’s doing. I haven’t heard from him for a long time, not since Holland. I hope he’s not dead. Not to crush your hopes, but there’s a pretty good chance. The 82nd’s been in the thick of the action for a long time.

***

Dear mom

I hope you haven’t heard, but then again I’m sorry. I don’t know how to break the news.

My brother’s dead, mom. He’s dead. Your son’s dead.

I’m sorry for being so direct. My brother, the little paratrooper! Gone! He survived everything and now he’s dead. He was a paratrooper. The best of the best. But now he’s dead. It’s not fair.

They say it was a drunken G.I. driving the jeep. They say that the G.I. crashed into the truck, that it’s not his fault. They even gave him a silver star. But that’s immaterial, isn’t it? I’d rather have him back than have a damn silver star. As if that silver star could solve everything.

He’s gone. I’m sorry, mom, but he’s gone.

Your son
Jim