Assaults from the Sky by Martin W. Bowman

Author:Martin W. Bowman [Bowman, Martin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: History, Military, World War II, Aviation
ISBN: 9781781591161
Google: mpp3LwEACAAJ
Publisher: Pen & Sword Aviation
Published: 2013-01-15T03:07:22+00:00

‘I heard voices and I recognized the tongue. They were not French. A Schmeisser machine pistol started firing through the door and through the window of the barn but I was swinging behind the window and not close to the door and they missed me. I could make out two persons outside the barn and they were coming close. I pulled my .45 out of the shoulder holster - it had a hair trigger and it went off as I pulled it out. Remarkable I didn’t shoot my arm off - and I kept firing, nervous reaction and just as I reach the door with my rapid fire this German came in still firing and the .45 slug caught him somewhere and knocked him up in the corner. A .45 is a rough damn gun. I did not see this man move again. I grabbed the lanyard on my knife and pulled it up and slashed the suspensions lines on the left side and dropped a foot or so to the floor. I went down flat and crawled to the door. I saw the other one standing about five or six feet away and shot him. He spun around, went backwards, fell and lay there. Still on my hands and knees I crawled through the doorway (there was no door) around the side of the barn into a driveway to a road behind the barn. There was gunfire but not right there. I dashed across the road into what was an orchard and stopped to survey the situation in the dark. I could not see more than thirty yards, if that.

‘Reconnaissance - that is a military positive and it comes up front - reconnoitre - patrol - and that’s what I did. There were 17 or 19 men on my plane and we would have come down in a generally straight line. I did not know about the river then. I was in the village of Chef du Pont but did not know where I was.

‘I spent about one hour going from end to end of that place which was spread out with several fields and many open places along a main drag. No lights, no sign of habitation. The natives were lying low. I found none of my boys. How much time went by I can’t recall and I was ready to leave the village and make toward some firing that had started up I don’t know just how far away. I could tell from the sound that our rifles were firing.

‘Actually, I was heading cover behind fences, posts, bushes - just like a good soldier doing it by the book. That was the easy part. I was back at the orchard and I heard someone moving. The weeds were about knee high. A normal pace through could make noise and I was tuned for a pin drop. I went down in a prone position, brought my carbine up on this figure I could make out as he came toward me and - why I didn’t take that perfect shot, only God knows.

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