Drop over Longwy and Virton FB

(October 7th - Combat Stats & Records)
(BEF) 2nd Lieutenant Sport20 reported: " As I sat in my seat on the C47, I couldn?t help but think about home. My mind drifted away from the mission and to my favorite pub back in Surrey. I could nearly taste the delicious cold ale on my lips when my thoughts were snapped back into focus as the jump leader, Shad0w64, had us stand up. We called out our equipment checks and latched our static cables to the wire humming over our heads. The plane shuddered as the door was flung open revealing nothing but darkness, propwash filling the cabin. Our pilot, Bartsass, expertly lined up on our final course, adjusting the throttles to idle to make our approach as silent as possible.

The DZ approached and I stepped towards the door, peering out at the faint lights of Virton in the distance to the south. As the platoon?s sniper, I was first out, to set up an covering position west of the infantry camp at the enemy forward base, which had been established between Virton and Longwy along the allied front. My parachute opened with a reassuring jolt, and I took account of my surroundings. A flak battery opened up below as the rest of the squad exited the aircraft, bright orange tracers drawing a line across the night sky. I was relieved to see each one of them with a good chute.

As I landed in a hedge, I immediately heard the unmistakable staccato chatter of an MG34 firing at close range. Expecting to hear the sound of bullets ripping through my flesh, I quickly realized he was sitting in the open, spraying my mates, never having seen me come down behind him. I took quick aim (he was only 50m away) and fired, the round entered his right flank and bounced around his ribcage. Unfortunately, he was able to get four of my friends before I could get him. As the rest of the team?s charges were placed on the infantry tent, I ran and took position on the opposite side of the ridge to the southwest with a clear 200m shot. I quickly dropped another LMG who had attempted to take cover in a berm. The pink mist from his shattered head lingered in the air for several moments.


At the same time, an Opel troop carrier had left the FB depot and was driving up the hill I was on. As he got closer, I took aim, about 100m away, and fired. The blood from the drivers freshly departed head sprayed the interior of the cab as he slumped over the wheel and the truck slowly drifted to a halt. I turned my attention back to the FB and watched infantry pour out of the tents and try to take defensive positions. Several members of the Covert Ops squad had shown up by truck and were attacking the base from the north, diverting the infantry?s attention as a second C47 roared overhead. I took aim at a MG34 gunner who deployed his weapon in the open in a futile attempt to shoot at the descending paratroopers. The bullet from my rifle tore through his upper back and came out of his neck; his death scream drowned out by the sounds of battle. Blood painted the green grass red, as the barrel of his gun smoked in silence.

I turned my attention on the flak battery which had punched holes in the C47 and was now turning its attention on the attacking infantry. As both the infantry camp and the vehicle depot succumbed to satchel charges, the enemy became desperate. The gunner of the FlaK28 was spraying wildly, only pausing for his partner to keep shells feeding into the receiver. As the barrel swung around away from me, I took aim, and fired. The bullet entered the small of the back of the supporting crewmember, and he dropped like a fresh sack of potatoes. The gunner did not notice his departed comrade for several moments, giving me enough time to adjust my aim, and wait for him to stop. Spotting his dead partner, he paused, the deafening silence encompassing the air around the battlefield. He looked around in paralyzing fear at the sea of dead men, most of which wearing his uniform, that surrounded his position. My heartbeat, steady and rhythmic, beat in my ears. I released my breath slowly, and with definite purpose squeezed my trigger. The sharp crack of my rifle broke the death silence of the area and the round entered the chest of the gunner. I could hear the round pierce his flesh, forcing a final gurgling grunt to escape his mouth. From 325 meters, I could hear it as if he was next to me. His limp body rolled out of his seat and lay still on the ground, helmet slowly rolling away.

I stayed in my position for several more minutes, watching for any hidden enemies waiting to leave their cover. When none showed, I recovered my rifle and casings, and checked my map. Virton was only 2.7 kilometers to the west, and I started a slow jog, stopping only to check my surroundings for any hidden surprises. According to my watch, it was 41 minutes after leaving Montfaucon when I entered our AB to the welcome of some friendly French soldiers. It?s good to be alive "

Read this AAR over at CSR.