Death from Above

As a rule, you probably have never thought about jumping out of a plane with a parachute and thought that looks like a good idea.  In fact, I am willing to bet that VERY few people ever follow through and pay someone to let them jump out of a plane.  There is an astonishing reason for this, they are CRAZY.  I know, this is not a big surprise to many of us "normal" people, but the fact remains, they are crazy.  In the Civilian world, you can sign up for a jump for $199, strapped to someone who knows what they are doing.  They take you up in a little plane that goes very slow and you bail out at 13,000 feet.  WeeeEEeee and you pull your ripcord and your chute opens (hopefully) then you glide to the ground nice and easy, then you hit the ground after flaring a little at the end hitting ground like you sit on your couch. 

In Airborne, you are just a number, this was my number.

 I hit the ground hard....often.

   Well I gotta tell you that the Army has figured out how to do it almost completely opposite of that pleasant experience.  Welcome to Basic Airborne Course in Fort Benning, Georgia.  After training for 2 weeks on how to HIT the ground like a Sack of Bricks and not break anything, you finally get to climb in to a C-130 Cargo plane that is 5 hours late with 50 of your fellow sweat covered and frustrated buddies.  The additional 50 pounds of gear on your back and the engine exhaust in the Southern Georgia heat has caused you to sweat through everything you are wearing, even your boot leather! 
 As the plane accelerates for takeoff, I wondered if I was going to be a coward, because they say you never know until you find yourself in the situation if you are going to refuse to go out that door.  God I hope I am not a coward.  So the plane makes its turns to get alignment with the drop zone within 3 minutes.  The Jump Masters are giving the count until drop time, giving the "ONE MINUTE" signal, we scream "ONE MINUTE!!" in return.  We all look at each other wondering who is going to screw up exiting the plane and cause a potentially fatal situation for the rest of us going out after.  Jump Master Signals and yells "STAND UP!"  "HOOK! UP!" we scream it back while doing it.  We triple check our gear, without touching it, that gets you dropped from the course never to return.  Our static lines are hooked to a cable that runs the length of the interior of the plane.  Its the Static line that pulls our chute open for us, you see, we are flying at only 1,200 feet, no time to waste getting that chute opened.  The doors on each side of the plane open, not the ramp, just the doors.  The scream of four turbo prop engines and the roar of the wind going by at 130 MPH,  smothers all communication except hand signals now.  The humidity outside is so thick you can see it, it's like breathing through a hot water soaked washcloth.  THIRTY SECONDS!  The jump master signals, we all scream it back to him "THIRTY SECONDS!!!"  But it sounds pathetic as it's washed away by the chaos.  As we shuffle to the door in two single file lines, one for each side of the plane, we can see out the door for miles and miles of forest.  All I can think about is the training, the painful, stupid, perfect training I have gotten to this point.  What was it they said about this, or that, or what do I do first?  OH CRAP!   The Drop Light turns green, its go time, every second counts, the youngest person in the 500 soldier company is the first person out the door!  She goes out WHOOOSH!!!   The next person goes WHOOOSH!  Oh Crap it's my turn and I have been watching how cool they looked going out the door of this flying plane!  This next part happens in about a 10 second period I can't think, my body does it for me.  I hand off the static line, and JUMP like the plane is on fire!  Wait, what am I forgetting ...Uh HOLY---- WHOOSH!!!      Smack!  The windblast from my right makes my head smack into my left shoulder.  I count out loud ONE THOUSAND....and so on to four.  I can feel myself falling but being pulled by the plane a bit and the wind fighting to keep me, slow me.  With a jerk, my chute is open and I am floating!  I look to my right and I can see the plane huge before me, exhaust billowing, engines quieter by the moment, the jumpers coming out behind me.  It's simply awesome...their chutes opening quickly, someone yells "Hell Yea!  This is America!"  Indeed, it's beautiful, sunny, and clear for miles and miles, the perfect day for a Para-drop!  I look down to see which way I am floating, look back at the trees, holy crap they are a lot closer!  Uh what do I do, oh yea feet together, knees to together, elbows in, head down, hips to the side I'm gonna fall.  Here comes theSMACK!!!  *!@#$%  That hurt.  I forgot to bend my knees!  I wonder if my legs are broken.....  oh...Breathe!  Ow  ow  ow ow.   I can hear the crunching of a truck approaching over the dried dirt clods.  I give them a thumbs up so they can see I'm not knocked out, but I don't wanna get up yet.  As the Adrenaline starts to ebb down, I can tell my legs are not broken, Thank You God.  As I pull myself off the ground, I can hear someone coming down real close to me.  He hits the ground so hard I feel it from 15 feet away.  He hits (in this order)  Feet, Face.  Ouch, now that had to hurt worse than my landing, so I grab his chute so it doesn't drag him away, cause he isn't moving.  "Hey!  Are you OK?" I say as I roll up his chute a bit, but he doesn't move!  I ran over to him and start to roll him over because he is still on his face in the dirt.  He opens his eyes and nods at me.  I said, "You hit feet then FACE man!  That was... AWESOME!"  He is so out of it he just mumbles something and starts packing his chute up.  Ok, I guess I better get going too.    As we are walking back, he mumbles at me through his swollen lips and face, and points to my left shoulder.  I have some blood on my collar and shirt coming from my Ear!  I had forgotten to keep my head tucked in and down upon exit from the plane, so my head smashed my ear into the riser mount bracket on my chute harness, splitting it wide open.  Aw yea, Chicks dig scars!  It's what I call a self-correcting mistake. 

   Alright!  I am not a coward; I just jumped out of a plane at 1200 feet with a parachute designed in the 1930s made by the lowest bidder, which was packed by a Private some Recruiter scraped out of a juvenile detention center.  Hell Yea!  Only 4 more jumps to go to get my Jump Wings!.....Crap.

   Well that is basically how each jump went, with less pain in one case, and similar pain in the other three.  I am not a small person, at 6' 4" 220 lbs; I get to the ground faster than most of the people.  I will admit I am scared of jumping out of airplanes, parachuting, and hitting the ground like a sack of bricks.  Nevertheless, I will do it again, and again, because I Love America, and being a Paratrooper is better than being a dirty nasty Leg(non-Airborne Soldier).  Now where is my bumper sticker that says "I JUMP OUT OF AIRPLANES AND KILL PEOPLE"??

Cody