"During my lifetime, sir, I have never been terrified. I am a vicious little Scotsman," said Jock Hutton after falling to earth from 1800m. The paratroopers were back in Normandy, among them the 89-year-old veteran of D-Day.
Hutton was responding to the question of whether the parachute jump yesterday was as terrifying as the one he had made 70 years ago when he was among the first wave coming in for days of fierce fighting. On that night, flares were lighting them up as targets for machine-gun fire rising from the ground. Many of his comrades were going to be killed in the next few days and he himself would suffer severe injuries, with shrapnel in his stomach.
On this occasion, the former private jumped in tandem with Colour Sergeant Billy Blanchard on this 70th anniversary of the war being taken to Hitler across the Channel. Upon congratulations from Prince Charles, he nodded: "Aye, there aren't many of us left." A few minutes later, Hutton ran into Ben Marsh, also 89, a fellow paratrooper with whom he'd served in the Ardennes, and his voice went deeper into his Stirling roots:
"Och, you old beast, I thought you was deid!"
This is probably the last gathering of the clan for the 650 from all three services who had travelled to France for the anniversary; almost all are now in their 80s and 90s. The numbers among the Parachute Regiment gets thinner every year; Hutton was the only one to jump this year.
