Dawn Over the Rhine

Supplies for American troops are loaded aboard a B-24 Liberator at RAF Wendling before the March 24, 1945 mission over Wesel, Germany.

The morning of March 24, 1945, broke colder than it should have. Fog hung low over RAF Wendling, clinging to the runways like breath that refused to fade. For weeks, the 392nd had flown mission after mission into Germany—oil plants, rail yards, airfields. But this one felt different.

Inside the briefing room, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and silence. For nearly four hours, the officers talked—maps, wind speeds, drop zones, timing. But what held the men’s attention wasn’t the details. It was the word Varsity.

Operation Varsity, they were told, would be the largest airborne assault in history. Thousands of Allied paratroopers—American, British, and Canadian—would be dropped behind enemy lines on the far side of the Rhine. Their job was to secure the crossing, clear out resistance, and open the road to the heart of Germany. The Hummel crew’s job was to feed them from the sky.

This wasn’t a bombing run from 25,000 feet. There were no high-altitude formations, no evasive turns through clouds. They would be flying low—under flak—so low they could see the treetops. Their bomb bays wouldn’t carry explosives, but bundles of food, fuel, and ammunition. And they’d be dropping them at only 300 feet.

Each man took the information differently. Some joked, hiding nerves behind habit. Others just stared at the map, tracing the blue line of the Rhine River and the red marks where they’d be flying over it. For the first time in months, they were part of something larger than destruction—something that could end the war.

At 0930, the engines started. The roar rolled across the field, breaking the morning fog. “E for Easy,” their B-24, rumbled forward into formation. The ground crew waved as the wheels left the earth.

Below them, England slipped away under a blanket of mist. Ahead lay France, Holland, and the jagged, smoky horizon of Germany.

They couldn’t know what waited for them on the other side of the Rhine. But they would soon learn that history itself was waiting there—and that not everyone would make it home.