August 29, 2006

• This is a very corny story, and there are pictures, but you will have to read the whole thing to understand.

  
  

  The last two days focused on Airborne jumps.  Monday I was assigned to be the Drop Zone Officer In Charge (DZOIC).  There’s really not much to the job. I got to miss a day of work, read a ton of magazines while waiting for the jump to happen, and all I had to do was tell the Italians to close the road.  Didn’t seem that bad at all.

  
  

  Skipping through most of the day, the time on target (TOT) for the jumpers was 1700 and 1930.  Around 1705, 2 C-130 Hercules (Radio Call sign “Herkey”), flew overhead… and dropped no one.  THen they approached from another direction…. and dropped no one.   This repeated 4 more times, and then they flew back to the airfield.  Meanwhile, I got a bunch of video of airplanes flying… and nothing else. 

  
  

  Turns out that there were a number of things wrong.  First off, the ceiling was too low, meaning the clouds were too low.  For training, the minimum height that you can drop from is 800 ft, and you must have a 200 ft clearance from there to the ceiling.  Second, the runway lights were acting up on the airfield, which would prevent the plane rom landing later, which is why they went back.  Later on, there would be issues with the visibility around the mountains near the DZ, and then there was a storm at the airfield, which would prevent a landing, so the plane didn’t take off.  This whole jump was scratched.  While I was waiting for this to be canceled, I enjoyed a Nintendo DS I had recently purchased (VERY Addictive).  I rode back with the medics (I rode there with them), and they were telling stories.  At one point, one of them talked about a guy that, upon landing from his jump, got his canteen shoved up his rear, and had to be helicoptered out.  Seemed funny at the time.  I arrived home just before 0100, so it was late call for me in the morning.

  
  

  Today, was my turn to jump.  At least it was at first.  With the previous day’s jumps being scratched, there were people that HAD TO jump, otherwise they would lose pay.  Because I had jumped the previous month, I was good for another two months.  I decided to show up anyway, and there just happened to be an opening.  Damn. 

  
  

  Throughout the day, I hoped that hole would close.  I like getting an extra $150 a month and such, but if I don’t have to do it, why risk it.  There’s no real incentive to jump right now, anyway.  I went through sustained airborne training, managed to not do the Parachute Landing Fall (PLF) training, and later we took the 2 hour trip up to the airfield.

  
  

  Jump ahead a few hours, and I’m rigged up and on the plane.  I am also jumping out of the left door, which is my favorite door, because the two times that I jumped right door, I had a hard landing, or (in the case of last month) had an opening shock that knocked my balls up to my throat.  This time, I made EXTRA sure that the leg straps were tight.  I was also the second person out the door, something I like because I get out early (normally near the pickup point), I’m away form everyone, and I am not the first guy.  Some private who was having his ”cherry jump” (the 6th jump aka the first one after airborne school) just happened to be in the right place.  That sucker has to stare out the door for almost 2 minutes before he gets to go.

  
  

  We’re on the plane for at least 50 minutes before takeoff.  I look around, and you can always tell the people who are nervous.  They fidget with their gear, tighten their helmet, and make repeated small check.  I went to sleep.  40 minutes later, I’m hooked up and going out the door.  I see the cherry in front of me spinning like crazy (he should have kept a tight body position), my chute opens, and I see the buses.  I reach up and pull a slip toward them, but I keep heading in the opposite direction.  I climb halfway up my risers trying to change directions, to no avail.  I pass over the medics, and the DZ marker, and I’m still moving in the opposite direction, so I decide to look behind me and see where I’m going to land.

  
  

  Before a jump, we go over a number of scenarios, such as landing in the trees, landing in power lines, and landing in water.  What we didn’t train for is landing in a corn field.  Remember the canteen story?  I really didn’t want a butt full of corn, ESPECIALLY if it’s going in the wrong direction.  Now I’m in “Oh shit” mode.  I’m still trying to slip away.  I have no idea how hard corn plants are (or what they are called), but my supermarket experience tells me that they are right up there with police batons.

  
  

  I’m too close to the ground when I finally give up, and I try to open my chest buckle to slow me down.  I can barely grab it, but get it open, and I reach up and grab two sets of risers (later I realize that it was the correct two, but you never really get told “if the corn field is approaching from your rear, reach up and grab…”) and land.  It was actually not too bad.  Either that, or the adrenaline was really pumping.  Here are some pics of the damage, which I took with my phone:

  
  

   
  This is the field around me.

  
  

    
  This is the path that I cleared while landing.

  
  

   
  This is my chute tangled in everything.

  
  

   
  And this is me with the ears of corn that I stole, since the plants were ruined.

  
  

  Black 6, out.

  • 5:40 pm
  • 5 Comments