The sun was rising as our 52’s were arriving
Rays of light were illuminating the birds of steal
And as soldiers will walk, we flew above the baring
Sea that opened us the way to a newer deal
Hearts were pounding as our light equipment was tinting
Soon we would stand up and throw ourselves into the blue velvet
And so silently land on the shores of Crête, minds were binding
The time was near, but had we known what awaited us, we would have fled
There was no turning back, there was only three options
The first was to land and conquer the Crête Island
The second was to be made prisoner and abort the invasion
And lastly, was none other than death at hand…
Our intercepted radio communication a few weeks earlier had been the seal
That terminated this operation before it even began
The British had been awaiting, had been ordered without knowing what was real
Throughout the chaos to come, blood was expected to blend into the sand…
We took one leap, opened our parachutes…we were then easy targets
As bullets slithered pass our ears, through our limbs…our heads
We were but puppets entwined in strings, at the mercy of harshness
Few were the ones to come out of this blood shed alive…all dead
Never had been so easy to kill, as some of us got caught in the olive trees
Others drowned in the sea as their parachutes had opened too late
I saw myself dying at that instant…joining my comrades… « Nothing breathes… »
As the bullets pierce your body, we were not supposed to be the bate
Those of us who had not died in the trees or in the tall grass
Had so violently been assassinated or made prisoners
German troops had failed their first attack on the 2 first harbours, clashed
As the British had anticipated our arrival…death to the invaders
To this day the massacre this flourishes under the vast fields
Of olive trees and grape vines…somehow none of us had asked for this
Orders had been orders and we had to bend to the third Reich…yields
All soldier apt to bear his pride…we we’re the German parachutists…
As one of the survivors said : « The grapes that were beginning to be ripe, were tinted a blackened red… » thus, the blood of the bold and stubborn replied with it’s buried cries…