On the flight across the English Channel there was a profound silence in our plane. I know my thoughts were all very personal. I remember passing the Guernsey and Jersey islands with many red flashes showing on the ground. I think our C-47 made it all the way to the jump area without getting hit by flak; I am sure no one in our plane was hit before the drop.
I remember, the Jump Master ordering us to 'stand up and hook up, getting rid of my Mae West and jumping. I looked down and everywhere I looked was water.
There was not much time to think. I prepared to drown. I could not swim. Not that it would have done any good for the way we were loaded down with equipment we probably would have gone under and stayed there anyway.
I was lucky a breeze caused my parachute to billow above the water, and I aquaplaned toward a tree-lined causeway. Eventually, my chute caught on the trees lining a roadway and I pulled myself onto dry land. I am certain many of the men from my stick drowned in the flooded areas.
I was involved in building the sand tables used to orient our troops, I knew generally, where I landed in relation to the causeway, and I knew in which direction I had to go to get to our assembly area.
There was a problem, the Germans had machineguns at both ends of the causeway, and I thought by staying slightly below the roadway I could stay out of their line of fire.
Jones continues, "In Ireland during one of our night training patrols while we were warming ourselves at a roadside pub, a fellow parachutist and I got into a fistfight. As our group separated us, my opponent vowed he would get my ass when we got into combat.
Naturally, you can guess whom the first American paratrooper was that I met while crawling along the edge of the roadway. Right, he had me looking down the barrel of a Thompson submachine-gun.
After we hugged and slapped each other on the back, telling each other how fortunate we were to have made it this far, we started off together along the causeway toward a group of houses at the far end of the road.
By the time we reached the houses, we had picked up eight more paratroopers. The German machinegun at our end of the causeway had been silenced by someone, (not me), and we assembled behind a farmhouse wondering what to do next.
When you are in a group your confidence seems to return somewhat. Although you do not feel completely out of danger, you feel more comfortable. We all agreed that the next logical move was to eat, and we opened one of our K-rations, which we
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