AMFREVILLE, France -- For 38 World War II veterans of the Return to Normandy Association, a commemorative parachute jump into a mud-choked marsh here Sunday provided a sense of closure.
"We left some of our youth here," said Thomas Rice, 73, of San Diego, his face blackened with burnt cork as it was when he landed before dawn on D-Day 50 years ago today. "We're coming back to get some of that youth. Now we're whole again."
Before the group could fulfill its dream of jumping into Normandy again, the veterans - age 67 to 83 - had to overcome initial Pentagon objections and concerns about safety.
Yesterday's jump saw its share of bumps and bruises and one truly frightening moment.
Earl Draper, 70, of Inverness, Fla., the last veteran to jump before active duty paratroopers took to the skies, terrified onlookers when his sport parachute failed to open.
As hundreds gasped below, Draper tumbled in a spiral before cutting away his faulty streamer. A blue emergency chute opened just in time to deposit him behind the crowd.
Draper was helicoptered in stable condition to a French hospital to determine the extent of a back injury.
Elsworth Harger, 68, of Munising, Mich., suffered a bloody temple when his parachute risers whacked him in the head on the way down. But Harger, who wore a leather helmet with a Mohawk down the center, walked off the field on his own.
A veteran of more than 880 jumps, Harger said this one was "in memory of all the fallen comrades (and) to celebrate that we turned the world around."
Though they were followed by 500 members of the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions and 60 French paratroopers, the veterans in their tilted red berets and matching silk kerchiefs were the stars of the show.
Each veterans' landing brought cheers and applause. After the jump, former 82nd Airborne paratrooper Jack Dunn, 69, of Brookfield, Wis., played bagpipes as he led veterans to the reviewing area. Reporters and autograph seekers surrounded them.
"They are very courageous to jump at 70 years," said Jacques-Claude Leymond, a local resident.
Most of the men, many of whom parachute as a hobby, considered Sunday's jump a breeze compared with 50 years ago, when they were fired on in darkness by Germans.
But a small army of nurses, medics and doctors - including two heart specialists - positioned around the drop zone attested to concerns about the seniors' safety.
Their services weren't needed by most veterans. Some, however, did have bruised egos when, as 50 years earlier, they floated far afield from their designated drop zone.
"I didn't want to land with the cows so I steered to a nice dry field way out there. A couple of French gendarmes found me," said a smiling Howard Greenberg, 69, from Bay Village, Ohio.
Yet, Greenberg was serious about why he jumped: to honor two close friends killed in the war. "I carried their names in my pocket," he said. "In those days, we made a difference for freedom."
Gordon King, 70, of Merrill, Wis., also jumped to honor warriors of a half-century ago. In his pocket, he carried pictures of his wife's two brothers, one killed in North Africa, the other in Sicily; and a photo of "the man I jumped behind in Normandy," who later died in Holland.
"People shouldn't remember us," said King. Then, pointing to the old black and white photos he carried, he said, "That's what this whole thing is about."
