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Travis Cooke
“Ten minutes!” My eyes came sharply open, my heart sank, and I wanted some one to say, “Just kidding, we are turning around and going home”. No one said it, “Get ready!” and as if you could have missed the sergeant’s booming voice everyone repeated his words. I prayed in my mind “dear God I don’t want to do this, I am afraid, but if I have to die tonight, then Your will be done. Please God watch over me”.
“Outboard personnel, stand up!” The men across from me unbuckled their safety belts. They clumsily stood trying to fight their heavy loads, cramped conditions, and the pitching floor. In the red light I watched them climb on top of their orange cloth seats, then bend over double to relieve their shoulders of the massive burdens upon them. “God, please watch over me”
“Inboard personnel stand up!” Involuntarily I tried to stand, but the safety belt held me fast. Embarrassed, I quickly unbuckled it and stood with the rest of the men. As one we turned to face our seats, we all bent and unclipped them from the floor, then folded them up out of the way. We quickly stepped into the newly created floor space, and the outboard personnel climbed off their seats and folded them against the wall.
“Hook up!” Oh, I hated that one, the thick yellow line draped over my left shoulder, ended in a heavy metal clip. I unhooked it from the handle on the pack concealing my belly. I held it up trying to slip it onto the cable over my head. The floor pitched wildly, and the cable with it. I missed the cable, time and again. The weight on my shoulders prevented me from using one hand to stabilize the cable while the other hooked up.
“Check static lines!” “Oh God, I’m not even hooked up yet” I finally slid the clip into place with a satisfying click. Then I ran my index finger, and eyes over both sides of the clip. I moved them down my static line and as far as I could over my shoulder. Quickly I turned to the back of the man ahead of me. I looked at his yellow static line, as it crossed his shoulder, my index finger lightly traced it as it zigzagged across his back, held at the sides by rubber bands. It finally ended in the center of the pack disappearing through a small hole in the green fabric. I slapped his shoulder, “Your good” I screamed over the noise of the engines. Seconds later my shoulder was slapped by the man behind me “Your good” I barely heard.
“Check equipment!” I ran my finger across my chinstrap, “Oh, God I don’t want to do this” my finger ran its course over the straps leading from my chin to the back of my helmet. “Dear God if it be your will, just give me a break this one time.” The finger slid to my left shoulder and checked the heavy green strap there and the metal buckle over my heart. I switched hands and did the same with the strap on my right shoulder and its buckle. With both hands I checked the buckle in the center of my chest, then the silver handle over my right hip. Two buckles threatening to break both of my hips were next. They were concealed beneath the pack hanging across my pelvis. Then the eighty pound ruck, that was suspended upside down over my legs. I had no idea what I was looking for, but it all seemed okay to me. The weight had again pulled me to a stooped position. I shot up straight trying in vain to adjust the load on my shoulders. It didn’t work, it never worked, so again I stooped clinging to the yellow life line with my right hand.
“Sound off for equipment check!” from the back of the line the response was immediate, a loud slap and a chorus of “Okay!” The slaps grew louder as each man shouted okay to the man ahead of him. The man behind me slapped my butt hard, “ Okay!” he shouted. I quickly did the same to the man ahead of me. It continued up the line, until from the front, the lead men shouted, “All okay, jumpmaster!” Now came the wait, it was normally three to seven minutes, but it might as well have been twenty years. I bent under the weight, both on my shoulders and on my heart. I realized that I needed to urinate terribly; I always needed to at this point. It was just one more thing to make this experience a living hell. The fear washed over me again, it took away the pain in my back and shoulders, it stole the sharp searing pain in my bladder, but it brought with it a question, a hundred questions, the same ones as every time before. I had been lounging against the pack on my back for four hours now, what if I messed it up. Head down, chin on chest, elbows tight into sides, hands on the ends of the reserve, bend slightly forward at the waist, feet and knees together, count to four, if you make it to five pull the reserve, my brain ran through the sequence. I had it down pat; but if I forgot one thing it would mean injury or death. “Dear God, I am afraid. I know you can turn this plane around, but if it is your will that we jump, please be with me. Give me the strength of heart to step out, and then carry me to the ground safely, dear Lord. If I have to die please watch over my sons dear Lord. Dear Lord, please give me strength. Your will be done dear God, Amen.”
Suddenly my ears popped and the wind roared through the opening doors, the air rang with the agonized scream of the wind through the blast deflectors. It slowly died down to a dull rushing roar as my ears became accustomed to the sound. I could glimpse through the swaying forest of bodies the slightly bluer blackness of the night sky outside. I could also see the little red light next to the door; “Please God let it stay red”. I wondered, would I jump, or would I freeze in the door? I had seen men do it, did they know they were going to do that, or did it just happen as they prepared to exit? I hoped it wouldn’t happen to me. I had friends, leaders, and followers all around me, and I had seen the cruel ostracism that resulted from cowardice, I didn’t want to be a coward. “Dear God, your will be done”.
“One minute!” Oh, God, sixty seconds to go, in less than two minutes I would either be safely on the ground, or dead. Sometimes they didn’t fall to their deaths though, every once in a while someone got hung up; the guys called it being “out there flapping,” the army called it being a towed jumper. Normally, a person unfortunate enough to have this happen, would be hit by every other jumper that exited behind him, then if he lived would be beaten to death against the side of the plane. I could definitely do without that.
“Stand by!” the first jumper slid his static line to the jumpmaster’s waiting hand, and turned to face the door. My heart skipped a beat, “Oh God, be with me”, and I knew the lead man’s anxiety. Everyone else could hold onto something to stabilized themselves against the bucking aircraft, the lead man on each side, however, had to stand with their hands on their reserves and watch that little red light.
“Thirty seconds!” the man ahead of me turned and showed me his index finger and thumb held close together, it was the visual signal for the thirty-second warning. I signaled the man behind me, and again in an instant, remembered my aching bladder. I was sure that my clavicles would shatter under the load, I remembered I was holding my static line in my right hand and quickly changed it to my left. If I had gone out like that the static line would have severed my neck, “Gotta think, Travis”, I thought “you’ll get yourself killed if you don’t”. The man beside me turned and winked, his smile was brilliantly white against his camouflaged face, “Have a good jump brother!” he shouted. I smiled back, it came natural, and looked like I meant it “You too brother, good luck!” It was tradition to wish each other luck, during the last thirty seconds. There was a combination of reasons; first, your heart was swollen in fear, and excitement until you knew it would explode if you didn’t let some pressure off it. The only way to do that was to scream something to someone near you. Secondly, it felt as if you brought good luck upon yourself by wishing it to those around you, as if God would smile at your generosity of spirit, and then keep you from harm. I had to urinate so bad by then that I almost wanted to jump so that I could release the pressure.
“Green light, GO!” it caught me unaware, it startled me half to death. The outboard personnel would exit first; the man who had winked at me was gone in an instant. I only had moments left to contemplate my life before thought would be replaced by action. Why were they exiting so fast, couldn’t they slow down and give me one extra moment? “Last man, last man, last man!” the last man in the outboard row flew past me, when he reached the door it would be time for the inboard row to exit. Suddenly the man ahead of me was gone, moving for the door. I jumped and followed him; the world went into slow motion. He handed his static line to the jumpmaster’s assistant called the safety. He turned to face the door in one fluid motion, his foot went out and he froze there for an instant. The air stream caught his toe and that was all it took. In a flash he was gone, and I stepped up. I passed my static line to the safety, and turned to the door, “oh God, Oh God, Oh GOD”. I bent at the waist and could see out, down the side of the plane there was a stream of open and opening parachutes out there. I stuck my toe out and it took an eternity for the air to catch it and suck me involuntarily out of the plane.
I forgot to count, I always forgot to count. The hand of God shook me like I was the dice in a cosmic craps game. My feet went over my head, and through slitted eyes I saw the aircraft upside-down. God chose that moment to snatch me upright, the straps running between my legs tried to cut me in half, as my descent slowed. I reached for my risers, and tried to look up at my canopy. My helmet had slid over my eyes and I was blind for a moment. I adjusted the helmet, and looked up again. The chute was full, full and beautiful. Light green silk against a blue-black night sky. The silence enveloped me, with aircraft flying over my head, and people falling all around me, there was silence. The silence was more than a lack of sound though; it was a lack of feeling, no wind, no sensation of falling, nothing but God and me. “Thank you, God” I whispered, “Thank you so much”. God and I hung there in space and surveyed the world around us. You can see more at night from the air than the ground. It was wonderful, perfect, miles of North Carolina forest stretched as far as I could see. Then my eyes wandered to the ground. From that height you have no depth perception, I could see the ground moving slowly past me. There were parachutes scattered across the open field below, and I realized I could make out individual clumps of grass. I quickly lowered my rucksack by pulling the white handle that released it to fall to the end of its eighteen-foot lowering line. I then activated the clip on my left and allowed my rifle, in its case, to slide down the line and join my ruck there below me.
I put my feet and knees together so that my ankles wouldn’t break when I impacted the ground. I put my chin on my chest so that I wouldn’t bite my tongue off or shatter my jaw. I waited, and waited; the ground was impossibly close but still I wasn’t there. I imperceptibly reached for the ground with my toes. In a heart beat I realized that I had my depth perception back, this meant I was within thirty five feet of the ground, I would hit soon. From the realization to the hit takes a second and a half, but it feels much quicker. All at once, almost too fast to consciously realize my lowered equipment hit and anchored me to it’s position, my toes hit, then my buttocks, and I flipped heels over head, twisted and came to rest on my back. The parachute was feeling ambitious and reinflated with the wind and began dragging me towards its own destination. I unclipped the buckle on my left shoulder, and the parachute went limp. I lay in the sand and grass, perfectly still. I looked up at the sky and wiggled my toes, then my ankles, knees, and hips. I then checked my back, my elbows, neck, and jaws, I was okay! “Thank you God, Oh thank you God for saving me”. I rolled onto my side and freed myself from the rig, and while lying there urinated on the ground beside me. I got up to retrieve my rifle out of its case, pack my chute and don my ruck. While packing my chute into its bag, I saw a man near me doing the same thing. We silently worked as the aircraft made a second pass over head. Looking up, I could see more chutes opening, and was silently grateful that I was here and not there. I had just gone back to my work, when I heard a loud thump behind me. Something had hit hard between the other man and I. I thought something had fallen from one of the aircraft. I turned to look, and found that I was right. There on the ground was an amorphous pile of darkness, the other soldier and I advanced warily toward it. The pile groaned, and my heart stopped cold. I wanted to run away, I wanted to help, I wanted to do everything and nothing. I yelled to the other man, “Get a medic, now!” I moved to the dying man’s side. I wanted to make him comfortable, but I knew moving him would kill him instantly. I lay on my side next to him; I wanted to ask, “Are you okay?” I knew it would be a stupid question, but it was all that would pass my lips. He groaned again, I can still picture his eyes wild with fear and pain, his neck bent impossibly sharply, and his cheek in the dirt. “What is your name?” I asked, I got no response. I heard the humvee coming with the medics, I whispered “Help is on the way, brother.” I scrambled away as the medics ran up. I stood there helplessly as they cut away his equipment. I heard one tell the other that he was dead, and in answer the soldier groaned again. The medics got out a backboard, and six of them tried to roll him off of his equipment onto the board. There were sickening, audible, wet, cracks, and pops from the broken body. I waited for the scream that never came, only a small grunt and it was over. The soldier died before they could put him into the truck. I thought about him a lot afterward. I never knew his name, but I knew that on my first jump in the Eighty Second Airborne division, a man had died before my eyes. It is a sobering thought, and I see him in my dreams to this day. With all of that, it still was not my most frightening jump. The next one was.
