Keith Winning
D Day 80th Anniversary Parachute Jump, 8th of June 2024
In December 2023 I was invited to join a group of para qualified veterans who were taking part in the 80th anniversary of D-Day. As part of the commemorations, we would parachute onto the original British wartime Drop Zone (DZ) at Sannerville in Normandy from a Second World War Dakota in period uniform.
Since it was thirty-seven years since my last jump, I had to undertake refresher training and assessment. This involved lectures and practical training on exit drills, emergency procedures, DZ drills, parachute landing falls, and parachute packing. Having passed the assessments, I was cleared to jump.
Operation Tonga was the codename given to the airborne operation undertaken by the British 6th Airborne Division between the 5th and the 7th of June 1944 as part of Operation Overlord, the invasion of Normandy during World War II.
The aircraft for our jump was a Douglas Dakota C47 Skytrain (N74589) named ‘Placid Lassie’, a D Day veteran herself. It is now based in Connecticut USA and flew via Canada, Greenland, Iceland, and the UK for the drop.
On the 6th of June 1944 ‘Placid Lassie’ took-off from Aldermaston at 01:19 as part of the 434th Tactical Carrier Group towing a glider with troops from the 101st American Airborne. Their objective was Landing Zone E, south of Sainte Mere Eglise to support the landings at Utah Beech.
The 7th of June was spent packing, checking, and fitting parachutes as well as conducting the pre-jump briefing and final ground training at a local gym.
The aim of military parachuting is to get a body of men into battle as quickly as possible. We would jump from under 250 metres. Using a military round canopy with limited steering capability, the rate of descent is about 5.5 metres per second, giving a typical time in the air of 45 seconds and ends with a hard landing.
On the morning of the 8th of June, we emplaned at Carpiquet, just west of Caen. I was number 10 in the starboard stick of chalk 3. A chalk is a group of paratroopers that deploy from a single aircraft. This is then divided into two sticks, port and starboard, which are dropped on successive runs over the DZ.
The engines were started, and we taxied to the start of the runway. The banter in the aircraft ceased as the serious business of deploying twenty-three veteran paratroopers with a combined age of around 1,200 years prepared to pay tribute to their airborne forefathers. We took off and headed east towards DZ K, just west of the village of Sannerville.
As we approached the DZ from the east, the jumpmaster stood in the door and shouted, “FIVE MINUTES – GET READY – PORT STICK STAND UP – HOOK UP – CHECK EQUIPMENT.” The port stick got to their feet and hooked their static lines to the cable running the length of the aircraft. Each man checked the equipment of the man in front, tapped his shoulder to show that his equipment was ok and shouted out his own number to indicate that he was ready. “NUMBER 12 OK”, until number one shouted “NUMBER ONE OK – PORT STICK OK”.
Then came the commands “RED ON – ONE MINUTE – STAND IN THE DOOR.” They shuffled forward closing the gaps to ensure a tight exit. Through the door we could see Sannerville passing below us. “GREEN ON,” the jumpmaster yelled as he leaned out of the aircraft assessing the moment when to begin the drop. “GO,” the first man in the door was gone, quickly followed by the rest of the stick. As the aircraft banked preparing for the run in for the second stick, the jumpmaster hauled in the deployment bags and then leaned out of the door to assess the drift of the first stick.
As the aircraft steadied on the second run in, the jumpmaster shouted, “FIVE MINUTES – GET READY – STARBOARD STICK STAND UP – HOOK UP – CHECK EQUIPMENT.” My turn. We got to our feet, not easy as we were sitting on the floor with fifty pounds of equipment. Once the equipment was checked we stood there, swaying gently as the aircraft approached the DZ. This is a time for reflection, a time when each man is alone as he prepares himself mentally for the jump. “GREEN ON – GO.” The stick quickly moves forward as we start to exit the aircraft. Number 9 is in the door and then he is gone. I hand my static line to the jumpmaster, turn to face the door, and step out.
As I fall away from the aircraft the sound of the engines recedes. I shout out “ONE THOUSAND, TWO THOUSAND, THREE THOUSAND, FOUR THOUSAND – CHECK CANOPY” and look up to see the canopy is inflated – there is a feeling of relief and I kick out the few twists in the rigging lines. I assess my airspace, ensuring that I maintain space from my fellow jumpers. I check my rate of descent and look for the DZ marker. Turning into wind I look for a landing area. As I descend the last forty feet, the ground rushes up to meet me. I tuck my chin in, legs tight together with knees slightly bent. I hit the ground hard and roll to absorb the impact. As I start to be dragged by the parachute, I haul on one of the risers hand over hand to partially collapse the canopy so that I can get to my feet to run round the parachute to get it under control.
With my parachute and reserve stowed, I begin the walk off the DZ, and I look up to the sky and reflect on the men of the 6th Airborne Division who jumped here 80 years ago on a wild and windy night into the unknown to begin the liberation of Europe.
The 6th Airborne Division continued fighting until the 27th of August, having spent 82 days in the line. The Parachute Regiment were awarded seven battle honours for their part in Operation Overlord. The Division which had a strength of 8,500 men, suffered 542 killed, 1,623 wounded and 725 missing. More than one man in three was a casualty.
“What manner of men are these that wear the maroon beret?
They are in fact - men apart - every man an emperor.”
Field Marshall Bernard Montgomery
Links to the jump on YouTube