Word: gliderfuls
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...plane started up before we were sitting down. A young lieutenant, settled on the benches running fore & aft on both sides of the glider, checking parachutes, barely got out in time. He lit running as the big 15-man glider, suddenly an amazingly skittish, lightfooted creature, lifted off the runway. To a glider novice the take-off was startling; we were airborne and climbing on the rope while the heavier tow plane was still soaring down the runway, picking up speed for its own takeoff. We climbed rapidly to 700 feet, circled to get into formation...
Candid Craft. The troop-carrying glider is a candid sort of aircraft, no secrets, nothing concealed. Canvas fabric covers the fuselage; in flight it vibrates like a drumhead. The whole craft is springy and alive as a new buggy. Pilot and copilot sit up in the blunt, transparent nose, a single row of instrument dials in front of them. The noise of rushing air is astonishing...
...Glider Crackup. Suddenly our pilot reached up, hesitated a fraction of a second, then smacked the tow release lever. With a twang like a snapped harp string, the long white towing cable vanished. The pounding thunder of air dropped to a murmur...
...once the glider slowed down, then picked up speed again as the pilot banked sharply, stood it on the right wing and started down in a sweeping curve. There were three possible fields in sight, but we were too high and going too fast for the nearest one. The farthest was too tiny, surrounded by big, mean-looking trees, and we would have to poop over a highway and power lines...
...grabbed two steel struts overhead, braced myself and stared over the copilot's shoulder. Another glider had landed ahead of us: its troops were scrambling out into the battle. We ripped toward the end of the short field, charged past the glider, ripped off one of its wing tips. We slashed through a fence...