Chapter 8
Parachute Jump School: Day Three
The next morning Jill got out of bed and gently put her weight on her left foot. Hmm, this is a lot better than it was yesterday. Maybe I’ll make that HALO jump after all.
When Jill entered the HALO school Jack and the instructor were waiting. Jill tried to avoid favoring her injured ankle. She heard the usual, “Teen hut.”
“As you were, and good morning,” Jill responded. “Did the others finish up yesterday?”
“Yes, and they all passed,” replied the instructor. “How are you feeling today?”
“Much better. In fact, I feel like making a HALO jump out of a Pilatus,” Jill smiled.
“Great,” replied Jack. “Just one minor problem. The Pilatus had to go in for maintenance. The fuel pressure was a little low yesterday. We’ll have to take the C7 instead.”
“Hmm, we get to go for a ride in the Caribou. That sounds like fun.” Jill preferred the C7 because it was easier jumping out its spacious back door than the small side door of a Pilatus, especially considering her sprained ankle. She wondered if Jack had contemplated that when he arranged for the C7.
“Let’s go over the procedure and rules for HALO qualification,” the instructor said. “First, you will be jumping at an altitude of twenty-seven thousand feet. You will be using oxygen, and it will be very cold at that altitude. You will be free falling at a speed of two hundred miles per hour to an altitude of three thousand feet. During this time you will steer yourself to keep on a trajectory that will land you inside the target. At three thousand feet you will pull the ripcord. This is a bit higher than the two thousand feet that you would use if you were on a mission, but it’s a good training altitude, and it will give you some extra margin in case there are any problems. Then you will fly your high-performance chute to the target, which is a two-hundred-foot circle marked with white chalk. The ten-knot wind will try to blow you off course. Your high-performance parachutes can easily compensate for this, but you must still be on guard and make the necessary compensations. You must land inside the circle to qualify. If you don’t, then you will have to take the course again. Furthermore, it will be recorded in your file that you failed the first time, and required a second try. That will be embarrassing, and it will cause a week’s delay. Any questions?”
Jill shook her head. I hope I can remember to do everything correctly.
“Good. There is one more item. One of you will be carrying the GPS so you can navigate to the landing zone. Which one of you lucky guys wants the GPS?”
Jill nodded at Jack.
“I’ll take it,” Jack said.
“Take good care of this GPS. It’s brand new, and so far we only have a few of them. Okay, men, it’s time to suit up. By the way, that is fake ammo, and so are the food packages, so don’t get hungry and try to eat anything on the way down. The medical supplies are real in case you need them. I’ll meet you guys at the drop zone.” The instructor saluted Lieutenant Jacobson, and she returned the salute. Then he turned, got in his Hummer and drove away.
Jill and Jack looked at each other, and then they looked at all the equipment that they had to strap into, and the two technicians that were going to help them. “Let’s get started,” Jill said.
Jill’s technician began with the parachute harness. He slid the straps over Jill’s arms and legs. Then he began tightening the straps. He asked Jill to bend at the waist for the final tightening. After that Jill had a hard time straightening up because the harness was so tight. Then it was time for the parachute. First the main chute was clipped to the harness on her back. Then the reserve chute was clipped to the harness near her abdomen. Next a pistol and spare ammo were strapped to her right leg. A knife and a first aid kit were strapped to her left leg. Then kneepads were strapped on. A water bottle was attached at the bottom of the reserve chute along with two fake hand grenades and a flashlight. A large assembly called an assault vest was attached to the top of the reserve chute. It carried four spare ammo magazines for the AK-74 rifle—which was attached under her left arm—a gun cleaning kit, a small two-way radio, two light sticks, three flares and a small survival kit that included two fake MRE food rations. The space on her lower back—under the main parachute—was where they put the 40mm grenade launcher, poncho, fake C4 explosive, four detonators, and an M-18 red smoke grenade. On the right hip they attached an oxygen tank and regulator, which had a thin flexible hose that fed oxygen to a mask that dangled around their necks. A two-quart bag of saline for IVs was strapped to her left leg. An altimeter was strapped on her left forearm. It had a large dial that was easy to see. It would tell her when to open her main parachute.
Then Jill looked at Jack. He was also loaded with all of the necessary jump gear. They waddled one step at a time toward the C7 and climbed a ramp into the back of the aircraft. Finally the technicians handed them their helmets and goggles. Both technicians saluted Jill and Jack, then turned and walked back to the training building. Jill’s claustrophobia was starting. I have to be calm. I can’t let all this equipment bother me. I must stay focused on the jump. I can’t make any mistakes. I have to be a good leader and not quit.
There were no seats inside the C7 except for the pilot and co-pilot because it was used for parachute jumping. Jill couldn’t fit in a seat if there were any because she was just too big with all the equipment she was wearing. They both sat on the floor by the side of the airplane. They tried to ease themselves into a sitting position as gently as possible, but the weight and bulk was overwhelming. Jill plopped on the floor first, then Jack. They looked at each other, and then started laughing.
“I saw that, Savage.”
“Yes, and I saw you plop down too, ma’am.”
The moment of humor broke the tension that was building. Jill’s claustrophobia waned slightly, but she still wanted to rip off all the equipment and parachutes that were attached to her.
“Ma’am, you used to be so skinny. What happened?”
“I joined the Army. This is what happens when they feed you three squares a day.”
Their smiles lingered as the C7 engines started. The jumpmaster closed the rear door of the airplane, and the aircraft taxied to the end of the runway. The engines whined, and the C7 shook as it accelerated down the runway. It lifted off and Jill felt the vibrations of the hydraulic motors that were retracting the landing gear.
Jill and Jack were quiet as the airplane flew to its designated altitude. After ten minutes, Jill spoke. “Savage, why did you take up skydiving?”
“I’m a sucker for a good adrenalin rush,” Jack replied.
“Why don’t you just ride roller coasters or go parasailing?” Jill yelled back.
“It’s too easy. There is no skill involved. They strap you in. Then you sit back and enjoy the ride. That’s okay for some thrill seekers, but I like the idea of having responsibility for my destiny.”
“You want to have control over your death?” Jill yelled.
“Actually, I want to know that if I do my job correctly I will live.”
“Yeah, I relate to that philosophy. My friends don’t understand why I wanted to join the Army. Everything else seemed so boring and useless to me. Why be a desk jockey when I can jump out of airplanes and kill bad guys,” Jill yelled.
“We are approaching ten thousand feet, so put your oxygen masks on,” the jumpmaster yelled. “Don’t forget to turn the oxygen regulator to the ‘on’ position. I’m going to put on my oxygen mask, so from here on I will be using hand signals to tell you what to do.”
Jill complied and waited for them to arrive at the necessary jump altitude.
Another ten minutes passed. The jumpmaster used his index fingers and thumbs to make two circles that he held up to his eyes like a pair of glasses. That signaled Jill and Jack to put on their goggles. Then the jumpmaster slapped both sides of his head with the palms of his hands to signal Jill and Jack that they needed to put on their helmets. Finally, he waved both hands w
ith the palms up to indicate they needed to stand.
Jill began the process of standing. She twisted slightly toward the side of the airplane and grabbed handholds in the wall of the plane so she could lift the extra weight from the equipment that was strapped on her body. Jill looked up and saw Jack extending a hand toward her, and wondered how he stood so fast. She reached up, grasped his hand and pulled. She rose to the standing position, looked into Jack’s eyes, and nodded a ‘thank you.’ Jack nodded a ‘you’re welcome.’ Their clasped hands lingered, and then slowly parted. She felt Jack’s fingertips brush lightly against her palm as he slowly withdrew his hand. A shiver coursed through her body. Did Jack notice that? Jack’s eyes were looking directly into Jill’s eyes, and they were standing only inches apart, their assault vests touching. What’s going on? We should be getting ready to jump out of an airplane at thirty thousand feet, but I sense that Jack has other things on his mind; I know that I do. Why am I thinking things like this? I need to concentrate on the HALO jump. Focus, Jill—focus. How can I get my mind of this good-looking guy that’s standing in front of me?
Jill’s attention diverted as the jumpmaster clipped a safety strap to his harness. He tugged on both ends making sure it was securely attached to both him and the airplane. Then he hit a large green button on a control panel by the exit ramp. The rear door creaked and groaned as hydraulic motors slowly opened the huge door that stretched from one side of the plane to the other and from the top to the bottom of the plane. It took a full thirty seconds for the door to open. Jill then saw a beautiful view of puffy white clouds checker-boarding the view below. The only details that were visible from twenty-seven thousand feet were the rectangular farm fields that had various shades of green, tan and brown, and the irregular shapes of large rivers. They were too high to see homes, cars, or people.
The jumpmaster pointed to a yellow line six feet from the opening that Jill was peering through. Jill and Jack both waddled to the edge of the yellow line. Jill glanced at Jack and wondered what he was thinking. Does he really think this is fun? Maybe I would enjoy this more if I weren’t so claustrophobic. Maybe I will like this better after I do it a few more times. Maybe if—
A green light next to the opening flashed on, and a deafening horn blasted her ears. The jumpmaster waved his arm vigorously toward the opening with a repeated motion. Jill and Jack looked at each other. Jack held out one hand as if to say ‘ladies first.’
Jill took one last look at Jack and charged full speed for the opening. With her hands first, she plunged into the freezing air. Her head went straight for the earth below as the slipstream from the propellers blew past her. She was falling faster and faster. As her speed picked up her body leveled to a horizontal floating position. She experienced an eerie silence except for the sound of air rushing past her. As her adrenalin began flowing, her mind speeded up. That made it seem like everything was happening in slow motion. Her gaze fell upon the puffy clouds below. I wonder how long until I pass by those clouds. I wonder if I will pass through the clouds. I wonder if—
Whoosh . . . A large object zipped past her heading toward the ground. There goes Savage. He is such a show off.
Because Jack was responsible for navigating, he took the lead. Jill’s job was to follow Jack wherever he went and stay close behind him where he could check on her position. He glanced over his shoulder at her occasionally as they floated straight down at two hundred miles an hour. Jack looked back and forth between his GPS and the landing zone. The puffy white clouds grew closer and Jack slightly changed their course to avoid passing through them. Jill wondered what it would be like to pass through a cloud at two hundred miles an hour. She saw that the fields seemed much larger. Other objects on the ground could now be recognized. She could see houses, cars, and power lines that were not visible when they had jumped from the airplane. She glanced at her altimeter that was on her left forearm. Five thousand feet. Savage should be signaling me soon to pull the ripcord and open my parachute. Jack slowed his descent slightly so he floated up next to Jill. She watched his face as his concentration toggled between the GPS and the drop zone. Jack continued to slow his descent by spreading his arms. Jill followed his lead, and their speed decreased to one hundred miles per hour. My claustrophobia is gone—thank goodness. I wonder if my parachute will open.
Jill kept glancing at her altimeter while Jack watched his GPS. Jill could now clearly see the chalk circle that they were navigating toward. They were right over the top of the drop zone. I’ll be glad when I can pull the ripcord. I shouldn’t worry. The parachute packers are all experts. They know what they are doing. They have packed lots of parachutes. They are randomly required to make jumps with parachutes they packed, so they are always extra careful when they pack every parachute. Jill glanced at her altimeter. Four thousand feet. Anytime now Savage will give me the signal to pull my ripcord. It seems like the ground is now rushing toward me. Please, Savage, tell me to pull my ripcord . . .
The two floated downward as Jack made a few final adjustments to their trajectory toward the drop zone. Finally, at three thousand feet, Jack looked at Jill and made a yanking motion with his left hand. That was her signal to pull her ripcord. Jill smiled, happy to receive his signal. She grabbed the ripcord and yanked with all her might. It did not require much strength to pull it. She could have used a gentle pull, but she was tense and anxious to see if it opened correctly. Jill remembered the instructor had told her to keep hold of her ripcord and not drop it. He said that he would be very upset if he had to buy a replacement. So she concentrated on maintaining a firm grip on the ripcord handle. She felt the parachute harness loosen slightly as the chute began to unroll. The parachute cords then deployed and a gentle tugging on her harness indicated the parachute was unrolling. She glanced over and saw Jack watching her parachute unfurl. She looked into his eyes and noticed distress on his face. Did I do something wrong? Did I pull the ripcord at the wrong height? Did I pull the ripcord for the main parachute or the reserve parachute? What could be wrong?
Jill’s speed was starting to slow just a little, and Jack had not pulled his ripcord yet. As a result he continued to fall at a hundred miles per hour and appeared to be falling away from Jill toward the earth. Why doesn’t Jack pull his ripcord? What is wrong? Maybe I should check my parachute. Jill’s parachute had deployed just enough that it pulled her to the vertical position and she was dangling with her feet toward the earth. The wind was still streaming past her at a fast rate of speed. She glanced upwards to check her parachute. Oh no, a streamer! The cords have tangled in the cloth and it didn’t open fully. I am not going to slow down enough to land safely. What do I do now!
Jill did nothing for a couple of precious seconds while she watched her main parachute flutter in the wind like a streamer. The name streamer is such an appropriate word.
Finally, she realized the parachute was not going to deploy any further. She had to do something soon, or else . . .
Jill tried to remember the breakaway maneuver that the HALO instructor said she might have to use in a rare situation. The instructor had made it sound like parachute problems rarely happened. Right, just her luck. If she had only listened a little better . . .
She reached up to the top of her shoulders and grabbed the two breakaway releases, one in each hand. I hope I do this correctly.
Jill pulled each breakaway release upwards simultaneously, and then she yanked them forwards as hard as she could. Glancing upwards she saw the main parachute was indeed released from her harness and floating away from her. Without the main parachute, her speed began to increase toward the earth. Please, reserve parachute, don’t fail me now.
The military had devised a new system for deploying the reserve parachute. The main parachute had a small cord that was connected to the reserve parachute. As a result, when the main parachute is released, it pulls this cord, which in turn automatically pulls the reserve parachute out. This system proved to be reliable, and easy to operate.
Jill squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and jacked her jaw firmly as she waited for the impact.
Woomph. She heard the reserve parachute snapping open to its fully deployed position. Jill looked up. Thank God. It opened. I’m going to live.
Jill relaxed briefly at the thought of living another day.
She looked down at the ground, and a new thought pressed her mind. I have to compensate for a ten-mile-per-hour wind from the east, but this reserve parachute is much slower than the main and will barely go eight miles per hour. What do I do now? How can I make up the two-mile-per-hour difference? I don’t want to miss the drop zone and fail. I’ll have to retake the course. I don’t want a blemish on my military record. How can I land inside the circle with this reserve parachute?
Jill surveyed the terrain below her. She looked for a glide path that would give her some protection from the strong headwind. A small hill rose to the east of the drop zone, and she thought it might block some of the wind, so she tugged quickly on the right steering strap. Her parachute headed in that direction. At first it didn’t help. She was still losing ground and moving away from the drop zone. But as she got closer to the ground she could see that instead of drifting away from the large circle, she was now drifting toward it slightly. This might work.
The wind blew from the east, but there were also small gusts from the north and south that tried to blow her off course, so she had to tug on the two steering straps to keep her moving toward the landing zone. With one strap in each hand it was easy to tell the parachute which way to go. A stiff tug on the right strap turned the parachute to the right, and a tug on the left strap turned the parachute to the left. The tricky part was knowing how much, and when to tug the straps.
Jill was now less than one hundred feet from the ground. She wasn’t quite close enough to land inside the circle drawn in chalk on the drop zone. It’s a huge circle. It’s two hundred feet across. I should be able to reach it somehow. I have come this far, and I am so close, I must find a way to land inside the circle. I don’t want any black marks on my Army record.
The ground was fast approaching, and Jill had to think fast. She tugged her right steering strap as hard as she could to pull her parachute toward the circle. She only needed an extra ten feet to reach the circle. She was fifty feet above the ground. She had to do something. What can I do to get in the circle?
Jill suddenly released the tension on her right steering strap and immediately gave a hard yank on the left steering strap. This violent maneuver swung her away from the circle.
Jack yelled from the ground, “You’re going the wrong way!”
Shut up, Savage. I need to concentrate. Jill watched as the circle on the ground moved away from her as she swung under her parachute to the far left. Then, being careful, and at just the right moment, she slacked the left steering cable and yanked hard on the right steering cable. This swung her back toward the circle, but with much more force and speed, and gave her the extra ten feet she needed to get both feet inside the circle. The dirt gave up a small cloud of dust as her feet hit the ground. Her feet and ankles were inside the circle, but her hips, waist, and shoulders were outside the circle. Rats, if I had tugged a little harder I might have gotten the rest of me inside the circle too.
Jill lay in silence for a moment. She wondered what the qualification rules said about getting her feet inside the circle, but not her shoulders.
After catching her breath, Jill unsnapped the latches on her harness and wiggled out from it and all the equipment that was attached to it. She picked herself up from the ground. She watched the instructor talking to Jack. He waved his arms up and down and left and right. He talked rapidly to Jack, but his voice was not quite loud enough for Jill to understand what he was saying. Jack raised his shoulders and hands occasionally as if to say ‘I don’t know.’ Jill gathered up her parachute. Finally, the instructor finished his long and fast discourse. She noticed the silence as the instructor and Jack stood in the gentle breeze and looked at each other. What’s going on? What are they talking about?
After another several seconds of silence, Jack raised his shoulders and hands one last time as if to give the instructor a final ‘I don’t know.’
The instructor and Jack turned and walked over to Jill. The instructor said, “Ma’am, I am afraid I have some bad news.”
“I was afraid of that. I knew I should have pulled harder on the steering straps. If I had just gotten my shoulders in the circle I wouldn’t have to take the course over again. Now there’s a black mark on my otherwise perfect Army record. I am sorry that I didn’t land in the circle. I’ll do better next time. If I had only—”
“Ma’am, what I meant was you’ve put me in a difficult position.”
“I know, you are going to have to fail me, and I know that you didn’t want to fail your first female student. That’s all right. I deserve whatever I get. Don’t worry about—”
“Hold on, ma’am, you don’t understand. I’m in a difficult position because you’ve used a rather fancy maneuver that I have never seen before. In my twenty-seven years as an instructor, I never saw anyone pull off a close one like you just did. You instinctively figured how to use your momentum to swing away from, then into the circle. That was, hmm, well let’s just call it a resourceful maneuver that I never saw before. It’s an embarrassment to me because I have not been teaching it, but outside of that, you did very well. You passed the test.”
“I passed the test? Even though my shoulders didn’t land in the circle?”
“Yes, in fact, you passed with flying colors. By the way, since the parachute malfunction wasn’t your fault, I would have let you take the test again without any black marks on your record.”
“No black marks on my record?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The instructor held out his hand. “Congratulations.”
Jill reached out and shook the instructors hand with a firm and proud grip.
Jack and Jill: Army Page 14