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June 5, 1944 23:50

As we loaded onto the C-47, I wondered if it was going to be another false alarm. Yesterday, the weather had forced us to abort, but tonight the planes took off. I had the feeling that this was the night I would die for sure. I had gotten less than three hours shut-eye, and I floated between sleep and consciousness as we flew toward our drop zone.

I had done night drops in the English countryside over the last month, but this was the real deal, behind enemy lines. Few of us in the 101 st Airborne had experienced combat yet. That would change drastically over the next month, for those that would survive the next 24 hours.

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