This is Jocco Podcasts number 94 with Echo Charles and me, Jocco Willink.

Good evening, Echo.

Good evening.

The black cloud of smoke exploded silently outside the open door of the Dakota,

obscuring for the moment my view of the geometrical Dutch landscape,

deserted but for a few for-lorn cows.

As soon as the sea had appeared below us, I started to think about the flak,

and I knew that everyone else in the aircraft must be worrying as well.

When we crossed the east Anglican coastline, that slight wave of movement had flickered down the aircraft

as the men checked their watches, calculating the time it would take to fly over the sea

and come within range of the now alerted German anti-aircraft guns.

Below us, the air-sea rescue launches of the RAF dotting the water at precise intervals were pleasantly comforting.

The narrow band of beach, which was the coast of Holland, had aroused us once again.

As the flooded fields flashed into view, private harrowsett had leaned across to point out the guns

on the ground shooting up at the masked ranks of our aircraft.

At the sound of my Batman's voice, which had been silent for the past hour,

the men near to the open doorway had cramed forward to see what they could.

While the rest, anxious for the first indications of the enemy,

had twisted their necks to peer through the small windows at their backs.

At first I could see nothing, and I was stupidly aggravated that everyone but myself could spot gun flashes.

Then came that cloud of smoke, producing an odd sense of satisfaction,

a reaction which immediately shamed me.

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