Jacks plan was approved and he implemented this into the training. For the final, single jump on the seventh day they would jump at four hundred feet. He also showed his Company how to rig for overhead assault.
Once they were wearing the parachute on their back, they used a piece of paracord tied to their rifle, like a sling. It was measured by holding the rifle out, almost like a bow, and pulling the paracord back to the elbow, almost like a bowstring.
Once the paracord was rigged, they laid the weapon muzzle down behind their shoulder, resting against the parachute container, magazine rearwards. They then looped the center of the paracord under their arm and through the left upper D-ring attachment point for their reserve and clipped their reserve in place on their front.
The reserve held the weapon in place by the paracord, with a further piece of paracord rigged as a quick release to tie the weapon muzzle down along their side. The idea was that once under canopy they could pull the quick release and raise the muzzle of the weapon up, thus getting it out of the way of their leg for landing, and once they unclipped the reserve the weapon would be immediately available to fight with.
They would jump wearing their tactical vests, and on landing they would simply pull the quick releases on their shoulders to let the risers go, freeing them from the parachute canopy. This meant that there was no need to get out of the parachute harness itself, which they would leave on at least until a lull in the assault allowed them to remove it. It was all about being fast into action on the drop zone.
For their equipment, which would consist solely of a daypack containing ammunition, water, communications equipment, spare batteries, night vision and an MRE, they would dispense with the usual equipment straps and lowering line. Usually the equipment container would be lowered on a fifteen foot line once under canopy. In this case, there was no time.
What Jack did was modify the way the daypack was rigged. It normally sat below the reserve on the jumpers thighs, let down on the fifteen foot line once under canopy by pulling on a release. They removed the release and simply had the daypacks attached to the lower D-rings on the harness, sitting on the jumpers thighs. Once on the ground, the jettison device alone would be used, releasing the daypack from the D-rings and allowing the jumper to extend the daypack straps and throw it on his back.
Keeping the daypack on the thighs would be uncomfortable for landing, but there would be no time under canopy from a four hundred feet jump height to mess about with lowering the container. The daypacks were not over heavy, not in the realm of one hundred and ten pounds which was the permissible weight for a full sized container. The jumper’s would just have to suck it up and drive on; the priority was with the desire to jump low and be fast on the ground.
As soon as the risers, reserve and the daypack jettison device were pulled on landing, the paratrooper’s weapons and daypack would be immediately available to go into the fight with.
With this system, it was possible to jump weapons up to the size of the 240, laid alongside the jumper’s body. Spare ammo belts for the guns would be loaded into the daypacks. This meant that the Company would land in light overhead assault order with limited scales of ammunition, with resupply in their daypacks. They would have no mortars or anti-tank weapons.
Jack spoke to his Company before the practice jump, explaining that he could not go into the detailed plan due to OPSEC, but that there was a reason for the specific overhead assault modifications to what the veteran jumpers were used to. He was aware that he was addressing both veteran jumpers and novices.
“I realize that some of you are getting a very fast introduction to parachuting. Just remember that parachuting itself is simply a means of delivery to the battlefield. I have no doubt of your courage, and once you make the first jump you will be ready for the operational one.
“Parachuting itself is not complicated. Simply get out the door, keep your feet and knees together, and accept the landing. The important thing is to walk away. In this case, get rapidly into action once you hit the ground.
“It is what you do on the ground that is the important thing, and which distinguishes paratroopers from simple parachutists. You have all proved yourselves in combat, and I have absolute faith that you will shine in the chaos of a hot drop zone.”
The practice jump was made successfully and the Company was moved into isolation for battle procedure.
The broad plan was for Jack’s Company to jump in on the Mall and rapidly assault the White House in an attempt to kill or capture the Regime leadership. Kill the king, cutting off the head of the snake.
The Company would jump from three C-130s. They would be tactically loaded with the elements of the four platoons loaded in the same order inside each of the aircraft, the theory being that by doing so, once they hit the ground they would be roughly in the same place on the drop zone. The Company would rally by platoons to the north side of the Mall and assault onto the White House.
The drop zone itself was the Mall, running in from the east, the impact point was just to the north east of the Washington Memorial, allowing a drop zone length of fifteen hundred meters to just past the Lincoln Memorial. Apparently the shallow reflecting pool was empty now, and the jump height of four hundred feet would allow minimal drift, thus helping to keep the jumpers on the narrow drop zone.
There would only be one pass, the jumpers exiting in simultaneous sticks from the two rear side jump doors of each of the three C-130s. The Company would comprise one hundred and twenty parachute trained originals: 1st, 2nd, 3rd Platoons, the fire support platoon armed with 240s and a command element comprising tactical HQ, Jim’s logistics team and Megan’s team of medics.
With forty paratroopers per aircraft, twenty jumping from port side and twenty from starboard, it would allow enough room on the DZ to get them all out in one pass.
The plan was to hit the DZ loaded so that tactical HQ landed first to the east, then as the jumpers exited from the westward flying planes the order would be the fire support platoon, 1st Platoon, medics and logistics and then 2nd and 3rd Platoons.
Simultaneous sticks meant that the paratroopers would exit from both the port and starboard jump doors at the same time. Each jumper would exit with one second separation, the theory being that there was a half second stagger between the port and starboard doors.
To the north of the east side of the drop zone, in the area where tactical HQ and the fire support platoon should be landing, was a five to six hundred meter distance across the open ground of the ellipse and the south lawn, to the White House itself.
In conjunction with the overhead assault, a TALO operation (tactical air landing operation) would land a number of C-130s at Reagan National, close to the Mall just across the river. These C-130s would contain a light infantry battle group along with resupply loaded on gators, which would drive off the rear of the aircraft ramps on landing. This landing would also contain heavier support assets, such as 81mm mortars, that could set up at Reagan and provide fire support to Jack’s fighters across the river.
The TALO assault was also a surprise shock action with the objective of securing Reagan National, the Pentagon and the dual bridges across the Potomac to the Mall and White House areas, thus allowing a link-up with Jack’s Company.
Once the two elements of the airborne assault went in, simultaneously the ground assault would start up the I-95 from South Carolina, attempting to thrust north the five hundred miles to link up with the paratroopers in DC.
It was a bold, all or nothing move. If the plan failed, the paratroopers would have no option but to attempt to fade away into the countryside and back into an insurgency role.
Jack spoke to his assembled Company in the hangar before they donned their parachutes and gear. He had them gathered around in a group.
“There is no doubt that this is a risky, bold move. It is not only a parachute jump into the heart of darkness, it is a leap of faith. I have absolute faith in you, the men and women of this Company. You are li
ons, every one of you a hero. I have never been more impressed by courage and dedication as that which I have seen from you, even in our darkest days in the forests of Virginia.
“Remember why we do this. We do it for America, for the memories of those brave souls who founded this country, who fought for freedom and made this country great. We do it for the memories of those who went before us, fighting for liberty both here and abroad.
“But more importantly, we do it for each other, and we do it for our families and children, and our children’s children, for their future. If we don’t stand against the tyranny of the Regime, who will?!
“We will not go meekly into the sunset, our freedoms stripped from us. You, stood here now, are striking the blow for liberty, for our Constitution, for freedom, for America. I am honored to go into battle with you. Remember, when all this is over, it is either liberty or death!”
Jack paused, and a cheer went up from the assembled Company. Jack looked around him and saw the tears running down their faces.
“Let us take a moment to say the Ode of Remembrance, in honor of those that we have lost in this fight. Let us take a moment of silence afterwards.”
They bowed their heads, and Jack recited:
“They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.”
After a minutes silence, Jack looked up.
“Ok, let’s roll.”
Chapter Seventeen
The three C-130s flew nap of the earth in the darkness of the night, up the spine of the Appalachian Mountains, concealing themselves as best they could in the valleys, flying at two hundred feet, below radar detection.
Following them, separated by ten minutes, were the TALO assault aircraft designated for Reagan National.
In South Carolina, the armored and mechanized Division marshaled itself at the line of departure. It was a long column, laid out on the I-95, arranged into assault and support elements. As well as the main battle tanks, the armored personnel carriers and the self-propelled guns, there were engineer units with bridging equipment, supply and logistics elements, carrying everything that the fighting column would need on the five hundred mile dash to DC.
Inside the Company’s three C-130s, it was horrific. They had been flying for several hours now. It was hot and cramped and the smell of vomit filled the back of the aircraft. The green glow of night lights was the only illumination. The paratroopers cramped inside could feel the pull of the g-forces as they followed closely the contours of the land, the lurching feeling deep in the pit of their stomachs, sometimes pushed down in their seats as the aircraft climbed rapidly.
Timed to coincide with the approach of the transport aircraft to DC, a squadron of Southern Federation fast jets had streaked up the coast towards the Capital. The Regime scrambled its own fighter jets and a long range modern-style aerial dogfight ensued on the approaches to DC. Missiles were fired, evasive maneuvers and flares used as the fast jets struggled for ascendancy,
Meanwhile, a second Southern Federation squadron of fast jets utilized the cover their brothers in arms were providing and rocketed through to DC itself, firing missiles and softening up the approach down the air corridor for the C-130s. The primary mission of this squadron was to destroy any ground to air missile sites and clear the approach for the paratroopers.
Inside Jack’s aircraft the call of “Ten minutes!” was passed up the line of sitting paratroopers. Jack was sat down by the port (left) side jump door in the lead aircraft. He was number one, the first man out.
Next, the jumpmasters opened the doors, sliding them up on their tracks towards the roof of the aircraft and then swinging out the jump step, stamping it down into position. The rush of fresh air into the aircraft was a welcome relief. The jumpmasters were wearing parachutes – they would follow the sticks out the door – and they commenced to check the exit doors, hanging out of the aircraft to check outside.
Next came: “Stand up hook up!” and the paratroopers stood, stiff after so long crammed in wearing their equipment. They put away the red webbing seats by raising them and clipping them up, and hooked the end of their static lines onto the jump cable that ran above their heads.
The jumpmaster called out “Action stations!” and waved them towards the rear doors. Jack shuffled down at the head of his stick to stand in the open door, handing the slack of his static line off to the jumpmaster. The plane was moving and bucking beneath his feet and he put one hand out to steady himself in the doorframe, the other held the end of his reserve, elbow tucked in to his side. The little red jump light was on in the panel to the side of the doorway.
Jack stared south out of the aircraft door in the dawn light as the outskirts of the city passed beneath him, only two hundred feet below. He felt he could reach out and touch the rooftops. He watched as a fast jet went streaking past in the distance, headed for the drop zone.
They were getting close.
The massive wing of the aircraft was up to his right, its two propeller engines roaring and droning, exhaust tails streaming back into the dawn sky.
Superimposed on his view of the buildings below was a vision of Caitlin and the kids, laughing and at play. He loved them so much. The prayer was repeating itself in his head, on a loop, just the first couple of lines:
Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for thy rod and thy staff shall comfort me.
Jack thought of his family.
Please Lord, keep us safe. I don’t want to die today, but if I have to, I do it for them.
The jumpmaster was holding him by his harness as the plane bucked and lurched. Jack saw some of the open parkland of the city center approaching and then the tracer fire began.
Red tracer began to arc lazily up from the ground towards the aircraft. As it got closer it appeared to speed up, an optical illusion, whipping past the open door. The sky was filled with tracer fire.
Jack looked up the plane at the stick ready to follow him out the door. He saw their pale resolute faces, some nauseous and sheened with sweat. Fear filled them, but they controlled it. They were lions.
He saw Jenny back down the stick, hanging on her static line, her eyes far away, a thousand yard stare. She had recovered from the shrapnel wounds to her legs.
He caught Caleb’s eye, stood just in front of Jenny, and grinned at him. Caleb stuck his tongue out, grinning at him. Jack grinned back, shook his head and turned back to the door.
Greater love has no man.
Just then, a burst of enemy fire peppered down the side of the aircraft. One of the paratroopers was hit, falling to the floor. The man behind him unclipped the man’s static line and dragged him to the side.
Suddenly, the aircraft lurched upward as it climbed to four hundred feet, the jump height. Jack felt the aircraft level out and then the pilot slammed on the flaps, slowing down to jump speed at around a hundred knots. The aircraft went slightly nose up and the tail dipped, making it a downhill run to the door.
The jumpmaster smacked Jacks arm down from the door and he put his hands on his reserve. Jack looked out and saw the Washington Monument, looking close enough that it seemed a real danger that the wingtip was about to clip it.
The red light in the door went off, to be replaced by the green light. The jumpmaster screamed ‘GO!” and Jack was out of the door into the slipstream.
Five hundred miles to the south, the Southern Federation artillery began firing a massive barrage and the concentrated armored spear thrust itself into the Regime lines along the narrow frontage of the I-95.
The lead element of the Southern Fede
ration attack was an armored battle group and under the cover of the artillery barrage they rolled forward to engage the Regime defensive positions.
The battle group smashed through and the barrage rolled ahead of them up the Interstate. Through the gap in the Regime lines poured a squadron of Apache attack helicopters, seeking out targets ahead of the advance.
The Regime forces on the demarcation line initially tried to rally but then they started to fold. The Federation column began rolling north up the I-95, engaging Regime targets to the flanks of the road as they moved.
As Jack exited the aircraft, there was no sense of falling, just a buffeting in the slipstream as his parachute deployed, yanked out of its bag by the static line. He felt the risers against the back of his neck as they deployed, pushing his helmet forward on his head. Then, he was under canopy.
Jack had a couple of twists in the suspension lines and he rapidly kicked out of them, as he span he saw the aircraft flying away from him, the parachutes of his men blooming in the sky behind it, tracer fire flashing past.
Next, he looked down and the ground was coming up fast. He put his feet and knees together and slammed in, ‘oomph’, failing to conduct anything close to a regulation parachute landing fall.
Jack rolled onto his back, released the risers from his shoulders, unclipped his reserve and popped the jettison device on his daypack. He got up on one knee and as he did so there was a series of explosions from the buildings to the north side of the DZ, followed by the sonic boom as one of the Federation fast jets raced over, taking out Regime positions.
He shrugged his daypack on, grabbed his weapon, and looked around him. The jump had been on target, the sticks drifting in to land to the west of him down the north side of the Mall. He saw a couple of his men hung up in trees. They rapidly released themselves from their harnesses and climbed down their deployed reserve chutes.
Patriot Dawn: The Resistance Rises Page 27