Screwing Private Ryan
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...