Sky Soldier
So, as a paratrooper we're expected to jump out of airplanes every now and then, possibly for training, possibly as an undercover experiment to see how much it takes an individual to break a leg. I had a jump yesterday with full combat equipment (meaning with my rucksack and weapon).
First off, I have a damn near paralyzing fear of heights. I'd much rather be in a gunfight, give a speech in public, or ask a girl out on stage at a concert and have her say "No" than jump out of a plane at 1000ft. Hell, my uncle used to live on the 31st floor of a skyscraper and it took four years of visiting him before I could sleep in a room with windows. Jumping out of planes is Hell for me, and I often loathe my choice of going airborne.
Secondly, the parachutes we use were made in the 50's and 60's, with minor fixes here and there when they tear or get damaged. Using a 60+ year old parachute when jumping at said 1000ft isn't too thrilling, regardless of being scared shitless at that height.
Third, the landing isn't all that soft. When people go skydiving with those fancy, steerable chutes you see them do all kinds of cool standing landings. With ours, you'd shatter your legs. So we practice PLF's (Parachute Landing falls), which are a certain way of hitting the ground without breaking yourself. They're awesome in theory. If you do it right, you barely feel the impact. Unfortunately, when actually landing, they just never happen. Supposedly you hit the ground in this order: Balls of your feet, calf, thigh, butt, "pushup muscle" (side of your body), basically fall sideways, one body part at a time. Well, I've had feet, knees, face, I've done a backwards somersault, I've hit a tree, I've landed on my ass (don't ask. It hurt), and any other combination of not the right way. All of them hurt. With one exception.
My jump yesterday. First time jumping with my combat gear instead of Hollywood (no extra baggage). For the first time in history I wasn't shaking in fear. I honestly took this as a really bad sign. Figured it meant that this would be my last jump and I'd die, though this optimism was obviously wasted. While on the way to the dropzone I took a splendid little nap, crammed in the plane with 64 other unlucky motherfuckers. So, after about 20 minutes they went through the jump commands, stand up, hook up, check equipment and whatnot. Still perfectly calm. Still thinking I'd die, and perfectly accepted it. Much better dead than with broken limbs (I'm a bitch when it comes to pain). Then they opened the doors and gave the first jumpers the command of Standby. Still calm, despite there being an open door in a plane not 10ft away. Then came the command of Greenlight, GO!
Yep. I went bitchmode, spouting out Hail Mary's like there was no tomorrow (I don't even accept Catholicism as my religion anymore, but when you're about to die you go with what you've known). Didn't have a chance to say too many since I was the 6th jumper in line, and there's only a 1 second interval between guys hurling themselves out the door. Next thing you know I pass off my static line (it opens the chute when you jump out) and for the four seconds of free fall before it deployed the only thought running through my head was "WHOOHOOMOTHERFUCKERS", though I sounded more like "AAAAHHH". Well, it opened. Yay.
So next step, look up, make sure my chute isn't falling apart (it wasn't) and make sure I wasn't about to collide with anyone (Nope). Got to enjoy the view of other people at varying altitudes drifting around, and Big Ol' Mother Earth rushing up to greet me. With the extra equipment I fell fucking fast. Not even 20 seconds out the plane and I lowered my equipment, which basically lets it dangle under me, connected by a line, 10 seconds after that I hit the ground with a great BIG...nothing. For some strange reason it was a really soft, fairly light landing. Sure, I landed feet then shoulders...and then was dragged by my chute for about 50ft (my canopy release assembly was being a pain in the ass).
From there I packed up all my shit and ran it off the dropzone, wondering for the life of me why I wasn't dead or broken, which is still beyond me. But all in all it was a pretty good jump, and I got the rest of the day off, which I spent sleeping.
Despite things going so well, I still can't wait until I'm done with this shit. Hopefully only 3 more jumps, preferably during daytime and I'm doneski.
First off, I have a damn near paralyzing fear of heights. I'd much rather be in a gunfight, give a speech in public, or ask a girl out on stage at a concert and have her say "No" than jump out of a plane at 1000ft. Hell, my uncle used to live on the 31st floor of a skyscraper and it took four years of visiting him before I could sleep in a room with windows. Jumping out of planes is Hell for me, and I often loathe my choice of going airborne.
Secondly, the parachutes we use were made in the 50's and 60's, with minor fixes here and there when they tear or get damaged. Using a 60+ year old parachute when jumping at said 1000ft isn't too thrilling, regardless of being scared shitless at that height.
Third, the landing isn't all that soft. When people go skydiving with those fancy, steerable chutes you see them do all kinds of cool standing landings. With ours, you'd shatter your legs. So we practice PLF's (Parachute Landing falls), which are a certain way of hitting the ground without breaking yourself. They're awesome in theory. If you do it right, you barely feel the impact. Unfortunately, when actually landing, they just never happen. Supposedly you hit the ground in this order: Balls of your feet, calf, thigh, butt, "pushup muscle" (side of your body), basically fall sideways, one body part at a time. Well, I've had feet, knees, face, I've done a backwards somersault, I've hit a tree, I've landed on my ass (don't ask. It hurt), and any other combination of not the right way. All of them hurt. With one exception.
My jump yesterday. First time jumping with my combat gear instead of Hollywood (no extra baggage). For the first time in history I wasn't shaking in fear. I honestly took this as a really bad sign. Figured it meant that this would be my last jump and I'd die, though this optimism was obviously wasted. While on the way to the dropzone I took a splendid little nap, crammed in the plane with 64 other unlucky motherfuckers. So, after about 20 minutes they went through the jump commands, stand up, hook up, check equipment and whatnot. Still perfectly calm. Still thinking I'd die, and perfectly accepted it. Much better dead than with broken limbs (I'm a bitch when it comes to pain). Then they opened the doors and gave the first jumpers the command of Standby. Still calm, despite there being an open door in a plane not 10ft away. Then came the command of Greenlight, GO!
Yep. I went bitchmode, spouting out Hail Mary's like there was no tomorrow (I don't even accept Catholicism as my religion anymore, but when you're about to die you go with what you've known). Didn't have a chance to say too many since I was the 6th jumper in line, and there's only a 1 second interval between guys hurling themselves out the door. Next thing you know I pass off my static line (it opens the chute when you jump out) and for the four seconds of free fall before it deployed the only thought running through my head was "WHOOHOOMOTHERFUCKERS", though I sounded more like "AAAAHHH". Well, it opened. Yay.
So next step, look up, make sure my chute isn't falling apart (it wasn't) and make sure I wasn't about to collide with anyone (Nope). Got to enjoy the view of other people at varying altitudes drifting around, and Big Ol' Mother Earth rushing up to greet me. With the extra equipment I fell fucking fast. Not even 20 seconds out the plane and I lowered my equipment, which basically lets it dangle under me, connected by a line, 10 seconds after that I hit the ground with a great BIG...nothing. For some strange reason it was a really soft, fairly light landing. Sure, I landed feet then shoulders...and then was dragged by my chute for about 50ft (my canopy release assembly was being a pain in the ass).
From there I packed up all my shit and ran it off the dropzone, wondering for the life of me why I wasn't dead or broken, which is still beyond me. But all in all it was a pretty good jump, and I got the rest of the day off, which I spent sleeping.
Despite things going so well, I still can't wait until I'm done with this shit. Hopefully only 3 more jumps, preferably during daytime and I'm doneski.
Comments
Post a Comment