Green Means Jump

My name is Joe McGrath I was born August 20, 1922. I am a 1st Lieutenant in the United States 82nd Airborne…and I hate heights.

When asked to join the airborne, they said it was an extra $50 a month. I think if we had known that meant jumping out of perfectly good airplanes, no one would have volunteered.

On D-day when we invaded Normandy, I could hear what sounded like thunder in the distance. I checked in with the pilots to see if we were flying into a storm, the clouds in the distance lit up intermittently like lightning. It was flak and anti-aircraft fire, it was everywhere. The closer we came to our drop the more we could all see in the pitch of night, the illuminated bursting of shells and C-47 Skytrain’s explode into flames. I couldn’t help but feel it was oddly reminiscent of the 4th of July, only there were no barbeques and family waiting for us down below, just the enemy…if we fail in our endeavor will the 4th of July disappear? This thought and so many more like it rush through my mind as the jump light turned red. I gave the order to stand, check gear and hook up, I could feel the fear of the thirty men inside. That’s the one thing that most of these men will never share with each other but we all had in common, we were all afraid. Who wouldn’t be afraid? I could hear the should of bullets ripping holes in wing and the debris falling from our plane. That was the first time I had been exhilarated to see a red light turn green light so we could jump out of a perfectly good airplane. I knew the moment I looked out the door to jump, the only chance we all had to survive was for me to get on the other side of my fear and jump, if I didn’t jump why should they? So I took that step out, it was as if the wind violently grab my body and for a moment I thought my shoot hadn’t opened and my heart leap from my chest - we were so low to the ground - but I felt the jerk of my shoot and I drifted to the ground slowly. The fighting that night was sporadic, so many of us had been dropped in the wrong zone, I ended up attached to some guys from the 101st. Eventually we rendezvous with the rest of the 82nd and 101st and my division went on to Sainte-Mère-Église. The fighting was intense, especially at the crossing of Merderet, I could tell why the Germans fought so hard to keep this land…in the moments where there was no fighting, I would forget we were at war and appreciate this beautiful country.

The next step of the Allied advance was Holland (Operation Market Garden). The resistance we encountered was less substantial, during our drop at least. Fog and bad weather made the drop…I’m embarrassed to say, a little rough, I almost landed upside-down when I hit the ground. Our objectives were simple, take the bridges at Grave, Malden, Heumen, Hatert, Hoininghutje, Waal. Take Arnhem from the Germans and the bridges there as well, hold them until our tanks arrive, ensure the Allied ability to invade Germany and end the war by Christmas. But while advancing my platoon outside Arnhem, we encountered a hiccup in our plans that came in the form of a little girl named Evi Meijer.

We killed a few Germans holding small towns and farms west of Arnhem, those that didn't die retreated towards the city. A few of the men including myself went house to house, room to room, to make sure no Germans lingered. The locals were extremely grateful, we were hugged and kissed everywhere we went. Of all the places we had liberated I think Holland is my favorite. We also took this time to take a quick breather and scrounge up whatever food we could find. We were after all, in farm country. We came across a beautiful homestead, with a front yard filled with bright yellow marigolds. I could tell there had been some fighting here, empty shell casings and pools of blood, but no bodies. Perplexing to say the least. I raised my fist into the air and told my men to stay alert. We heard some rustling in the barn. As we approached a little girl began sprinting out the back towards the woods. We called out to her but I don’t think she heard us because she continued running, so I sprinted after her, when I caught up to her I spun her around by her shoulder, she smelled soiled, she had tears in her eyes, when she realized I wasn’t German I could tell she seemed relieved, but traumatized, angry, and a little wild.

“Hey Doc!” I shouted. “We need some help over here! You okay sweetheart?”

She collapsed in my arms. “Where is family?” Her English was a bit broken.

“Jesus Christ! It’s gonna be okay. You’re safe, little lady - we’ll find your family. You’re safe now.”

She went limp in my arms, so I took her inside the house. There were no adults around, so I didn’t feel right just leaving her there.

“Sir, we have to keep moving.” Doc reminded me for the third time that afternoon.

“Cowboy!” I shouted for our radio man.

“Sir!”

“Radio battalion and tell them we are running behind schedule and that we found something.”

As Cowboy made the call, I confided in First Sergeant Douglas and Doc Young. “Something happened here, I’m not sure what but we need to stay and ask this girl a few questions.”

“Like what sir?”

“I think a war crime happened here. Search the house, if this girl lives here then we should be able to find some clothes.”

“Sir? Out here!”

One of my privates found one sloppy shallow grave in the backyard. With two people very recently killed. Just as I feared. We did find some clothing that would fit the young girl. But it took her a few hours to come to. As she opened her eyes she panicked for a moment until she recognized me.

“What is your name?”

“Evi Meijer.”

“What happened here?”

She began to speak a mile a minute in Dutch. I had to have my translator come over.

“She says ‘The Captain, the Germans, killed the Jansens for protecting me.’” My translator relayed.

“Why would the Jansens be killed for protecting you?”

“Omdat ik een Jood ben.” For a moment my translator looked confused.

“Well private? What did she say?”

“She said ‘Because I am a Jew.’” The look on his face is one I will never forget the rest of my life. We both seemed to connect the dots at the same time.

“The Germans are hunting Jews?” I asked.

“Ja.” She began to weep once more.

“I want an investigator from Regiment up here immediately. I’ll keep first squad here with me here and you take the rest of the platoon on to Arnhem, when the investigator gets here, first squad and I will rejoin you at Arnhem.” I ordered my First Sergeant. An hour or so later an investigator came to pick up the girl and conduct an inquiry at the farm. I along with my first squad double-timed to rejoin the rest of my platoon at Arnhem.

Before I left, I told little Evi “We will find your family, I promise.” I could only hope that was the case, but we were on a timetable and already behind schedule. By the time we reached Arnhem the battle was in full swing, it was bloody, and the body count was high on both sides. Then the most peculiar thing I’ve ever witness happened. Two cars containing what appeared to be German soldiers in each were shooting at each other. It was such a strange sight that everyone on both sides stopped shooting, I think the Germans on the other side of the bridge didn't want to shoot their own. The cars sped past us swerving between the wrecked tanks and casualties until they crashed near the bridge. They all piled out of the cars and the German in the lead car being chased ran toward the German side of the Arnhem bridge. The other two Germans in the car behind him also crashed and began to chase after him, shooting until they were out of bullets.

“Grab em!” I yelled to my men.

One of my squads tackled and subdued the two Germans closest to us and disarmed them.

“We aren’t Germans! Shoot that one!” The bigger man, apparently not a German pointed to the other German now almost across the bridge.

“What the fuck is going on?! Bring those men to me!”

The fight began once more as soon as my third squad brought over the two men, behind cover.

“Name and rank!”

“We are not Germans; we are just dressed as Germans! He’s getting away! Shoot him! He has my daughter!”

“Name and rank! Where are your papers!?” I demanded.

“Corporal Judah Meijer and Sergeant Lambert Van Dijk, French Infantry and Corps of Royal Engineers!”

“The hell you sa-did you say Meijer?” I was astonished. Could this be Evi’s father?

“Yes sir I’m here to find my daughter Evi, she was on a farm to the west of here, but that son of a bitch has her now! Please stop him!”

“Are you a Jew?” I asked suspiciously of his story. He seemed reluctant to answer.

“Yes.”

“Sir, we have your daughter, she’s safe. We found her yesterday afternoon. She’s with our battalion.”

Judah dropped to his knees, tears of joy running down his face. He grabbed my hands and kissed them. I must admit I felt uncomfortable, but it reinforced my belief in his story.

"Take those uniforms off before someone shoots you. We will sort this all out at battalion, keep them back until we can sort it all out."