2. Parachute


As I fell free of the airplane, my back hit something. Then I was falling face up staring at the flames from the wings and bomb bay that licked back past the tail. I was losing consciousness. Pull the rip cord! No, wait until you're clear of the flames! Pull.
I was first conscious of a gentle swishing sound as the air rushed around the nylon canopy of the parachute. The D-ring, attached to the rip cord, was still clutched in my right hand. In the distance, I could hear the faint drone of the Fortress returning home. It was difficult to face reality. A few minutes ago I had been part of a smoothly functioning bomber crew, able to make decisions and command power. Now, I had been projected into a cold, hostile environment and I was at the mercy of nature and the enemy. For some unknown reason, I thought of the meal I was going to miss back at the base. Today the mess was serving steak and ice cream.(1) It had been months since we had food like that.
There was a total absence of odors and sounds except for air rustling around the parachute. Underneath, there was a neat patchwork of fields, pastures, roads, and fence rows. I felt alone and powerless as I swung gently, back and forth under a few yards of nylon.
Trees and houses could be distinguished now, and I could smell the ripening grain fields and grassy pastures. I thought of our farm back in Oklahoma where the wheat would be standing in shocks, waiting to be threshed. It seemed impossible that this peaceful, orderly countryside belonged to an enemy conqueror and that I was a hunted animal.
The earth was rushing up faster now. I was going to land in a small field (2) which was surrounded by tall poplar trees. My feet slammed against the ground and I rolled backwards on one shoulder. The parachute settled to the ground and collapsed gently. My back hurt and I was tired, so I lay back to rest.
My mind cleared and I remembered the briefings on the techniques for evading capture. I had to hide my flying gear and travel as far as possible, as quickly as I could. German patrols had undoubtedly spotted the area where I landed.


(1) independance day on this July 4, 1943
(2) Between the hamlet of Forcin (St-Colomban) and the hamlet of Ouvrardière (St-Philbert-de-Grd-Lieu)

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