Sergeant Eugene Colter slouched immobile alongside 27 of his mates inside the dark cavernous interior of the big C-47 cargo plane as it droned hypnotically through the predawn darkness toward occupied Europe. He was one of only three young paratroopers onboard the plane who was not chain smoking Camels, Chesterfields or Lucky Strikes. He had trained for nearly two years for this moment, and he was utterly terrified.
He was a member of the 101st Airborne—the Screaming Eagles—and he was about to take the fight to Hitler.
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