Consider the Orbital Drop Assault. Its fury is a thing of hallowed legend writ across the histories of a hundred thousand worlds, the impact alone is more destructive then any artillery barrage, but it is nothing compared to the payload of Space Marines. Eldar hosts have fled, Ork hordes slaughtered, Rebel armies broken, and yet none have ever attempted it themselves, Xeno or Man. It is too strenuous, too uncertain, too insane a method of deployment for any save the Adeptus Astartes. Fitting, for as our enemies know to their woe, the Angels of Death come on Wings of Fire.
The Imperial Guard came to Gereon, grav chuting by the thousands. They didn't wait for daybreak. They didn't wait for clement weather, or a favourable turn in the tides. They didn't wait because they were greater than the weather and more powerful than the tides. They were brighter than the daybreak.
Major Silva: Most of the crew - not to mention your fellow jarheads - will be leaving the ship in lifeboats. They'll ride to the surface in air-conditioned comfort, sipping wine, and nibbling on appetizers. Not you, however. Oh no, you're going to leave the Pillar of Autumn by a different method. Tell me, boys and girls... How will you leave?
Orbital Drop Shock Troopers: WE GO FEET FIRST SIR!
— Halo: The Flood
Simmons: You have a fear of heights? Didn't you used to jump out of ships in high orbit during the war?
Sarge: And how do you think I developed that fear? That shit was crazy...
After the demise of the best Airborne plan, a most terrifying effect occurs on the battlefield. This effect is known as the rule of the LGOPs (Little Groups of Paratroopers). This is, in its purest form, small groups of pissed-off 19 year old American paratroopers. They are well trained. They are armed to the teeth and lack serious adult supervision. They collectively remember the Commander's intent as "March to the sound of the guns and kill anyone who is not dressed like you" - or something like that. Happily they go about the day's work...
I always get the shakes before a drop. I've had the injections, of course, and hypnotic preparation, and it stands to reason that I can't really be afraid. The ship's psychiatrist has checked my brain waves and asked me silly questions while I was asleep and he tells me that it isn't fear, it isn't anything important — it's just like the trembling of an eager race horse in the starting gate. I couldn't say about that; I've never been a race horse. But the fact is: I'm scared silly, every time.
— Juan Rico, Starship Troopers
Where is the prince who can afford so to cover his country with troops for its defence, so that ten thousand men descending from the clouds might not, in many places, do an infinite deal of mischief before a force could be brought together to repel them?