After the regiment has rested near Leicester, England, and received reinforcements from new recruits, they are prepared for the next assignment: "Market Garden."
To prevent any mistakes during the jump, E Company is at the tail of the formation heading for drop zone "O." They're approaching their destination, the engines are throttled back, and the light turns green. Thompson, as jumpmaster, assesses the landscape slipping away beneath him in the doorway. Wait a moment, a bit too much development, then a fairly flat terrain, now jump, GO! GO! GO!
Wait a moment, a bit too much construction, then a fairly flat terrain, now jump, GO! GO! GO!
The harness straps gnaw at his body, then he concentrates on the rapidly approaching earth. With a heavy thud, the jump is over. Barely ten minutes later, he has rallied his group. Separately dropped supplies are gathered, noses are counted, hey, four men are missing. Found, splashing and sputtering sounds come from a nearby watercourse. One man has gone under and is struggling to keep his head above water. The weight of supplies strapped to his body is dragging him down. Bad luck, the radio is also there, so he can forget about contacting Commander VanPoyck. An orderly is sent aft with the message that the group is heading for the bridge, the company's number one objective.
Shots can be heard from the city, but here in the field they hardly notice them yet.
As they advance toward the bridge, making the most of the cover of ditches and trenches, they come under heavy fire, including flak from the tower on the south side of the bridge. As they approach, they gain some protection from undergrowth and come clearly within the flak's field of fire.
A brief consultation: Thompson and his group will provide fire cover while the other group makes a detour toward the pumping station. Thompson sees Germans running back and forth between the pumping station and the bridge. Are they going to destroy the bridge? So close, surely that won't happen. The Germans come under fire, four or five of them are shot down. The flak and the machine gun nests behind them come under fire, and the bazooka team moves into position to fire on the high-mounted guns. The first shot misses, somewhere at the foot of the concrete colossus. The second shell is better, a hit just under the parapet surrounding the flak. One edge is completely blown away, and the crew is eliminated. The job is essentially done; vehicles arriving from the fortified town approach so unsuspectingly that one assumes they don't realize that the area around the bridge has been designated a battlefield since this afternoon. Late in the afternoon, the first men of F Company reach Thompson. An orderly is sent out with the message “bridge eleven is ours”.