The beginning of the U.S. Army’s Airborne Creed reads: I am an Airborne trooper! I jump by parachute from any plane in flight. I volunteered to do it, knowing full well the hazards of my choice. I volunteered for the US Army at age 17. Though I had A grades in high school, I dropped out to serve my country (later obtaining my GED and eventually earning a Master’s degree).
The US Marines attempted to recruit me but I passed on their offer because they could not guarantee me a chance to become a paratrooper, so I enlisted to be a combat infantryman with a special status as an elite paratrooper, providing I could pass the grueling course.
After basic training I flew to Ft Benning, Georgia to report for Airborne school. Temperatures were 33 Celsius and humid. The first week is called Zero Week. This is where the weak are weeded out. All we did was exercise and run all day. All day!
We typically ran 10-12 miles each day during this 5-day period. If you dropped out of any run, you were booted from Airborne school. The Army gave no second chances.
I passed Zero week and the first week of actual training began. Aside from a 5-mile run and exercising every morning, we jumped 30-40 times from a 34 foot tower.
This training prepared us for the jolt of a parachute opening when you jump from an airplane going. We also passed extensive physical exercising and learned how to land by jumping into sawdust pits. This was called parachute landing falls (PLFs).
Once I passed the first week, I moved on to the second week. Of the 1,200 plus men, only 650 or so remained. This week featured the same grueling runs and exercise, plus a 250 foot drop from a tower.
It’s like jumping from a 25-story building. I estimate that another 100 plus men dropped out because they didn’t have the courage to jump from 250 feet. I thought it was pretty darn cool.
The third week began. Again, each morning we had a 5-mile run, sometimes 10 miles. In order to earn your parachute wings, you had to complete five jumps from a C-130 or C-141 aircraft. Now I don’t care how brave you think you are, but the first jump will have any person's nerves rattled.
Boarding the plane is exciting.
The C-130 Hercules was flown by two Air Force pilots. I was seated at the rear of the aircraft. Then came the command from the experienced jumpmaster.
“Outboard personnel stand up!” The men next to the fuselage stood up. This is called a stick, a line of soldiers who will jump.
“Inboard personnel stand up!” The Soldiers on the inside rows stood up, the aircraft wobbling in the turbulence.
“Check equipment!” Here you make sure your parachute is strapped in tight and your 18 foot static line is not wrapped under your arms or tangled with your other equipment.
“Sound off with equipment check!” the jumpmaster boomed. I couldn’t hear, just followed along. Here we checked the man in front of us to ensure he was ready to jump.
The C-130 began to slow to about 200 miles per hour. When the red light turned to green, we would jump out from 1,250 feet.
“Get ready!”
My nerves were tight, I said a silent prayer. It was now or never.
“Stand in the door! The first man in the stick on each side of the plane stood in the open door of the C-130.
Then the command final came. “Go, go, go!”
I shuffled behind the men in front of me and out the plane I went, my legs flying into the air near my head in a wash of turboprop wind. Exhilarating!
Suddenly my T-10 parachute popped open with a hard jolt and I was floating to the ground. The scenery was beautiful. I almost cried it was so awesome.
And then I prepared for my landing. It didn’t go as well as I planned. I hit like a sack of potatoes falling off the back of a grocery delivery truck.
The wind began to fill my parachute and drag me across rough terrain so I cut it loose and rolled and then slid on my back till my momentum brought me to a halt. I’d made it! My first jump was complete. Only four more to go, if I survived.
Unfortunately, some men were injured with broken bones and most dropped out as a result. Others ignored their injuries. True Soldiers! All I had was a few cuts and bruises. No big deal.
The second, third and fourth jumps were easier. By the 4th, the nerves weren’t so taunt. The landings were not necessarily easier dependent on how strong the wind was blowing that particular day.
Then came the final jump from a C-140 Starlifter, basically a cargo jet and much faster. Once I stuck my leg out the door of the plane I was sucked out! I landed safely with no injuries.
Later that afternoon we had an emotional graduation ceremony. Tears welled up in my eyes when the music played as 432 of us stood at attention. An officer came by each of us to pin our parachute wings on our chest. He placed it on my chest and punched it, drawing blood.
I was ecstatic, I’d done what my friends and family said I couldn’t do, I graduated as one of the elite Army’s fighting Soldiers.
To this day, I maintain the same discipline the Army taught me as an elite paratrooper/infantryman. Strong as a bull, I went on to serve for 2.5 years until I was severely injured landing in a tree, but that’s another story.
