In daylight, we were easier for Luftwaffe interceptors to find, but none came close. The daylight air gamble had paid off. There was no breaking of formation, no evasive action as there had been in Normandy. Even as motors started to burst into flame and wings began to break, pilots held their planes in place for the crucial seconds that gave the paratroopers a chance to jump at the assigned zones. Entire regiments came down in full view of each other. We landed close to our men and weapons. It was the most successful jump the division had ever made, either in training or in combat. Between 1 and 1:30 p.m., 6,769 men were placed in their correct drop zones with less than 2 percent casualties. That was the way a war should be fought! My whole attitude changed-temporarily.

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After removing my parachute, I saw Major LaPrade, my battalion commander, and Colonel Sink, the regimental commander, at the checkpoint on the southern edge of the drop zone. They had previously agreed that, as quickly as possible, the paratroopers would be formed into 15-man groups, placed under an officer and hurried south to seize the bridge over the Wilhelmina Canal. Timing was crucial in this part of the operation; minutes counted. I became part of the second group, led by Captain Mo Davis, commander of A Company. We moved on the double toward the bridge. About 200 yards out we received heavy German 88mm artillery fire, including flak that hit in the trees above us. We were forced to the ground, taking casualties from tree bursts. Davis was hit, and as his wound was being treated, the medic was also struck by a bullet. Davis said, You better hurry up, medic. They’re gaining on you.

It was Mo Davis’ third wound. He and I had come out of Normandy on stretchers, side by side on the same boat two days after our jump on June 5. In Normandy, he had been wounded in the chest and shoulder. We went to the same hospital and after a few days we raised enough hell to be released. I won’t forget Mo Davis. He was older, a big man, and his presence instilled confidence and determination in the company. As Davis was receiving treatment for his wound, a deafening explosion occurred at the canal bridge. I looked up and saw pieces of the bridge hurtling hundreds of feet into the air. I rushed on with my men and reached the canal in time to see three dazed German soldiers near the remains of the bridge, one of them with a hand-crank demolition detonator.

As we might have expected, the bridges had been previously prepared for demolition. The three German engineers had done their job well. The intermediate support structure was still intact, however, and our parachute Engineer Company went to work. In 1 1/2 hours they had rigged a footbridge. But a bridgehead on the Zon side of the canal was still the number one priority. Major LaPrade and two men swam the canal and someone silenced the 88s. When my group moved on, we stumbled onto some A Company men who had found a rowboat. We rowed across the canal as fast as possible. By then, a number of troops had reached the far side. In my opinion, the bridgehead was established. I took a few men and entered the southern section of the town. We clung close to the walls of the houses and moved about two blocks before stopping. I was really not a troop leader during this operation. My arm cast from the Normandy wound had only been off a few days. As a result, I had been given a staff job at battalion — which I viewed as a step down from the job of platoon leader. I spotted a radio operator, got on the battalion net, and asked Major LaPrade if he wanted me to establish a command post. When he agreed to my offer, I went ahead and set up in one of the houses. Within a few minutes, he reached the house I had selected, water still dripping from his clothes after his swim.

I heard a reconnaissance report over the radio that the two smaller bridges over the canal had been demolished several days earlier. The footbridge could allow only a few men to cross at a time. Getting the regiment across was painfully slow, dragging on through the evening until midnight.

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