On short tow is Hugh Robb 350 feet behind the tow ship, his copilot is William Wojtyna. This is the first mission for both co- pilots. Robb was a good friend. We joined the squadron at the same time when it was formed over two years earlier.

March 24^th, mission day, was a sunny, bright, spring day with a few thin clouds in a pale blue sky. I am thinking, will our luck hold today? The 80th squadron is the only one in the 436th that has not lost a glider pilot in three previous missions although we have had some injured pilots. As we approach Brussels the air is becoming quite turbulent caused by all the planes joining the main corridor that will stretch over two hundred miles. Off to the left are British formations. To the right are C47's with 17th Airborne paratroopers. Suddenly as I look a head I see the left outer wing section on Robb's glider break and turn up to ninety degrees and quickly blow apart. The glider goes into a slow flat spin, the tow rope breaks and it noses over heading straight down as it goes out of view. The tow plane is almost in a stall position during which we have lost three positions in the formation. The pilot decides to get our position back by speeding up and climbing up and going over the top of the other planes in formation. For the next hour we continue to fight rough turbulence that bounces us around. We are having to make constant corrections to maintain position behind the tow plane. As we approach the Rhine we see black puffs of flak ahead.

There are tow ships on fire. Another tow plane blows up. The blast from the explosion flips the glider it was towing over on its back. It is cart wheeling toward the ground as it disappears under us. The curtain of flak also extends to the sides to include both outside columns. We have just about cleared the river when a piece of metal debris comes through the nose of our glider striking our instrument panel ripping it from its mounting. It ends up on Fred's upper shoulder cutting through his sleeve and opening up a large wound. The trooper sitting behind Fred takes a gauze pad from his aid kit and places it over the cut and pulls the sleeve over top and wraps the arm with tape.

We get the green light from our tow ship. It is time to get off tow. We are over a cloud of smoke that has come from those below building bridges over the river. We have no instruments to aid us land. We make our 270 degree turn by sighting the column passing over head and enter the cloud. As we get lower the smoke starts to thin at one hundred feet and we are able to make out objects. Below are gliders on fire, troops some moving, others not. I notice a drainage ditch to our right, the first good thing.

If I can get stopped close by, it will afford cover from what ever is going on. We come to a stop about fifteen feet from this ditch. Fred seems to be in shock so one of the troopers and I drag him out of the glider and into the ditch. We do not want to stay here in the ditch thinking that the Germans may put some 20mm rounds in our glider or cut the ditch bank down with their fire. I also want to get Fred to an aid station. Hopefully we will find a medic that can tell us in what direction we need to go. About ten minutes later a medic jumped in the ditch on his way to a station to get more supplies. He threw Fred over his shoulder and disappeared in the haze. Gliders were still landing. One blew up just before touching down. It had to be carrying ammo of some kind. The Germans seemed to panic. That gave the airborne a chance to clear the area. By 12:30 pm the 194th Glider Infantry.