“We had the usual problems of reorganization in the dark; however, about an hour before dawn, Company A moved out from the drop zone with about 90 percent of the men accounted for. (This was not due to luck alone, but to the cooperation of my officers and non-coms (non-commissioned officers) and, last but not least, training. Men who have to fight in the night should be trained in night-time fighting, not just taken on a night march and digging fox holes.) We moved along this dirt road that I previously referred to as being the north-south arm of the T intersection, and just around here, I ran into Major McGinity. He moved out with us.”⁽²⁾

When I met up with Dolan, everyone seemed exuberant, high spirited and ready for action. There is a peculiar elation, a feeling that paratroopers experience after a combat jump. Their chute has opened, and they’ve reached the ground alive. I still vividly remember how my training camp tent-mate friend, Cpl. Darrell Franks, manifested that particular joy when he came looking for me to ask if I had seen our squad sergeant Bill Owens, which I had. Darrell, a good old boy from Ashville, North Carolina, jokingly said, “Hey, Moy-fee (Murphy), have you seen any of those Voulay-vous cooshares tonight?” I never forgot that question, and I leave the reader to interpret the famous words that most young paratroopers wanted to learn in French. At the very least, Franks’ facetious remark was proof of a spirited, not a fearful mood.