26
26
0
“No! Did you hear me? I said, no!” She slapped him hard, but he had already catapulted out of the airplane. She had only a split second to stop the next parachutist, but it seemed to take forever. She was the jumpmaster for a night jump in the 82nd Airborne Division. As a second lieutenant fresh out of jumpmaster school, everyone was watching her, and she knew it. If that wasn’t enough stress, she was one of only a handful of female jumpmasters. Most of the jumpmasters came from combat units and, therefore, were men. She had been jumpmaster on a couple of day jumps without a problem, but this was her first night jump. Under normal conditions, it should’ve gone as smoothly as any day jump, but something went wrong.
It all started out well enough. She was assigned a senior sergeant with hundreds of jumps as assistant jumpmaster. All the troopers suited up and boarded, and there was the normal banter as they flew to the drop zone. Five minutes from the drop zone, the pilot turned on the red light. Jumpmasters train for this moment. The adrenaline was pumping hard now. After standing up and attaching her own static line to the overhead cable, she activated the automatic door openers, and began the commands and hand signals to get all the soldiers standing with their static lines hooked up.
Standing in the center of the aircraft at the head of four lines of paratroopers, she pointed to the two center rows. “Inboard personnel, stand up!” She raised her arms along with the commands. Each soldier in those sticks stood up.
Pointing to the two outboard sticks, she repeated the commands and hand signals, “Outboard personnel, stand up!”
They obeyed her commands.
“Hook up!” She made a motion to simulate hooking up. Every soldier hooked up his static line and gave it a tug to ensure it was fastened.
“Check equipment!” This time she patted her chest -- the hand signal to check equipment.
Each soldier checked his/her equipment, and the static line of the soldier in front of them.
She gave the appropriate hand signal – cupped hands behind the ears -- and shouted, “Sound off for equipment check!” Starting at the rear of each stick, each soldier tapped the soldier in front of them and shouted, “Okay!” When the first jumper received the final okay, they were ready to jump.
She braced her feet against the frame of the door, placed her hands inside the frame, and leaned out into the wind. The rush of the prop blast pushed the skin on her face back towards her ears and tugged at her goggles. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust so she could focus. A quick look behind the aircraft told her that there were no other aircraft behind or below them that would endanger the parachutists. Once inside the aircraft, she turned to her assistant who had performed the same safety check and got a thumb up from him. They were cleared to jump.
She pointed to the first soldier in each stick and shouted, “Stand in the door!” The first two soldiers, one on each side, stood in the door with their hands braced on the outside ready to spring out into the icy wind. She stood behind one jump on her side of the plane, and her assistant stood behind the jumper on the other side. Over the drop zone, the pilot turned on the green light -- the signal to jump. Immediately she shouted, “Go!” slapping the soldier in the door on her side of the plane in the buttocks. Her assistant did the same on the opposite side.
Paratroopers began jumping into the night as fast as they could, one after another. No one wanted to miss the drop zone and get hung up in the surrounding trees.
Then it happened.
A soldier on the assistant’s side of the aircraft had pushed up too close and caught the ripcord handle of his reserve on the parachute of the soldier in front of him. The reserve parachute opened, and the small pilot chute that pulls out the main chute opened inside the aircraft. Pulled by the suction from the open doors, the pilot chute snaked down the aisle between the two lines of paratroopers and out the door. The main chute would be next and once opened, it wouldn’t be able to be stopped from pulling the hapless trooper out of the airplane and either injuring or killing the soldier in the process. As the pilot chute started out the door, her assistant grabbed the cords to try to stop it but was jerked out of the open door. The calamity happened so quickly that the lieutenant was helpless to prevent it.
As the pilot chute was heading for the door, another sergeant, a senior parachutist who was in line to jump, saw what was happening and without hesitation, reached over and unhooked the frightened soldier’s static line. The senior parachutist then pushed the frightened soldier and shouted, “Run out the door!” The soldier took off running and followed the pilot chute out the door. The lieutenant tried to stop the other jumpers from jumping until she could see if her assistant and the soldier cleared the aircraft. She shouted, “No! No! No!” However, in the roar of C130 engines, it sounded like, “Go! Go! Go!” and three more soldiers jumped out. The next soldier was in the door when she said, “No! Did you hear me? I said no!” Without thinking, she slapped him hard on the buttocks to get his attention. She forgot for a moment that slapping the buttocks is the signal to jump. The soldier immediately sprang out behind his comrades. She realized her mistake too late for this jumper, but she interposed herself into the doorway to block the next jumper. The senior parachutist on the other side stopped the other stick from jumping. She motioned for everyone to stay in place. She then turned back to the open door, braced herself, and leaned out into the icy blast. Everywhere she looked, she saw open parachutes in the moonlight, no “streamers.” She leaned out as far as she could to get a good look underneath the aircraft.
“Oh, shit,” she thought.
Hanging at the end of his static line was her assistant jumpmaster. His static line was tangled up and his parachute could not deploy. His right hand was on his reserve handle, and his left hand was on top of his helmet, the signal for, ‘I’m okay. Cut me loose!’ She reached down by her boot and pulled out her knife. A stray thought rushed through her mind, that a high school cheerleader was now wearing a knife strapped to her boot hundreds of feet in the air. She reached up and grabbed the assistant jumpmaster’s static line and in two slices, cut right through it. Once again, she leaned out of the aircraft into the night air just in time to see her assistant wave from under an open parachute. She turned to the remaining soldiers and shouted, “Go!” No one misunderstood her this time. In less than ten seconds, she was alone in the aircraft. She took one last glance to make sure everyone was out and then leaped out into the night.
“Thank God, that is over,” she thought as she floated down.
Her landing was easy compared to the nightmare she had just endured. As she strode to the assembly area with her parachute, she saw the assistant jumpmaster standing next to a soldier who was in the front leaning rest position doing pushups. Apparently, the sergeant had located the errant soldier. She expected a good ass chewing as well as she walked over.
“Sarge, am I glad to see you!” she shouted.
The assistant was grinning. “Congratulations!”
“What for?” she replied, somewhat stunned. This was not what she expected.
He pushed back his helmet and looked her straight in the eye, “You did a great job up there; cool and collected under pressure. You probably saved my life. Shit, Lieutenant, you earned your jump pay tonight.”
He snapped to attention and saluted.
“Thanks, Sergeant”, she mumbled, a little embarrassed, as she returned his salute, “I hope every night jump isn’t this bad.”
“Hell, Lieutenant,” he laughed, “if it were easy, anyone could do it.”
"He’s right," she thought, "Not just anyone can do that."
It all started out well enough. She was assigned a senior sergeant with hundreds of jumps as assistant jumpmaster. All the troopers suited up and boarded, and there was the normal banter as they flew to the drop zone. Five minutes from the drop zone, the pilot turned on the red light. Jumpmasters train for this moment. The adrenaline was pumping hard now. After standing up and attaching her own static line to the overhead cable, she activated the automatic door openers, and began the commands and hand signals to get all the soldiers standing with their static lines hooked up.
Standing in the center of the aircraft at the head of four lines of paratroopers, she pointed to the two center rows. “Inboard personnel, stand up!” She raised her arms along with the commands. Each soldier in those sticks stood up.
Pointing to the two outboard sticks, she repeated the commands and hand signals, “Outboard personnel, stand up!”
They obeyed her commands.
“Hook up!” She made a motion to simulate hooking up. Every soldier hooked up his static line and gave it a tug to ensure it was fastened.
“Check equipment!” This time she patted her chest -- the hand signal to check equipment.
Each soldier checked his/her equipment, and the static line of the soldier in front of them.
She gave the appropriate hand signal – cupped hands behind the ears -- and shouted, “Sound off for equipment check!” Starting at the rear of each stick, each soldier tapped the soldier in front of them and shouted, “Okay!” When the first jumper received the final okay, they were ready to jump.
She braced her feet against the frame of the door, placed her hands inside the frame, and leaned out into the wind. The rush of the prop blast pushed the skin on her face back towards her ears and tugged at her goggles. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust so she could focus. A quick look behind the aircraft told her that there were no other aircraft behind or below them that would endanger the parachutists. Once inside the aircraft, she turned to her assistant who had performed the same safety check and got a thumb up from him. They were cleared to jump.
She pointed to the first soldier in each stick and shouted, “Stand in the door!” The first two soldiers, one on each side, stood in the door with their hands braced on the outside ready to spring out into the icy wind. She stood behind one jump on her side of the plane, and her assistant stood behind the jumper on the other side. Over the drop zone, the pilot turned on the green light -- the signal to jump. Immediately she shouted, “Go!” slapping the soldier in the door on her side of the plane in the buttocks. Her assistant did the same on the opposite side.
Paratroopers began jumping into the night as fast as they could, one after another. No one wanted to miss the drop zone and get hung up in the surrounding trees.
Then it happened.
A soldier on the assistant’s side of the aircraft had pushed up too close and caught the ripcord handle of his reserve on the parachute of the soldier in front of him. The reserve parachute opened, and the small pilot chute that pulls out the main chute opened inside the aircraft. Pulled by the suction from the open doors, the pilot chute snaked down the aisle between the two lines of paratroopers and out the door. The main chute would be next and once opened, it wouldn’t be able to be stopped from pulling the hapless trooper out of the airplane and either injuring or killing the soldier in the process. As the pilot chute started out the door, her assistant grabbed the cords to try to stop it but was jerked out of the open door. The calamity happened so quickly that the lieutenant was helpless to prevent it.
As the pilot chute was heading for the door, another sergeant, a senior parachutist who was in line to jump, saw what was happening and without hesitation, reached over and unhooked the frightened soldier’s static line. The senior parachutist then pushed the frightened soldier and shouted, “Run out the door!” The soldier took off running and followed the pilot chute out the door. The lieutenant tried to stop the other jumpers from jumping until she could see if her assistant and the soldier cleared the aircraft. She shouted, “No! No! No!” However, in the roar of C130 engines, it sounded like, “Go! Go! Go!” and three more soldiers jumped out. The next soldier was in the door when she said, “No! Did you hear me? I said no!” Without thinking, she slapped him hard on the buttocks to get his attention. She forgot for a moment that slapping the buttocks is the signal to jump. The soldier immediately sprang out behind his comrades. She realized her mistake too late for this jumper, but she interposed herself into the doorway to block the next jumper. The senior parachutist on the other side stopped the other stick from jumping. She motioned for everyone to stay in place. She then turned back to the open door, braced herself, and leaned out into the icy blast. Everywhere she looked, she saw open parachutes in the moonlight, no “streamers.” She leaned out as far as she could to get a good look underneath the aircraft.
“Oh, shit,” she thought.
Hanging at the end of his static line was her assistant jumpmaster. His static line was tangled up and his parachute could not deploy. His right hand was on his reserve handle, and his left hand was on top of his helmet, the signal for, ‘I’m okay. Cut me loose!’ She reached down by her boot and pulled out her knife. A stray thought rushed through her mind, that a high school cheerleader was now wearing a knife strapped to her boot hundreds of feet in the air. She reached up and grabbed the assistant jumpmaster’s static line and in two slices, cut right through it. Once again, she leaned out of the aircraft into the night air just in time to see her assistant wave from under an open parachute. She turned to the remaining soldiers and shouted, “Go!” No one misunderstood her this time. In less than ten seconds, she was alone in the aircraft. She took one last glance to make sure everyone was out and then leaped out into the night.
“Thank God, that is over,” she thought as she floated down.
Her landing was easy compared to the nightmare she had just endured. As she strode to the assembly area with her parachute, she saw the assistant jumpmaster standing next to a soldier who was in the front leaning rest position doing pushups. Apparently, the sergeant had located the errant soldier. She expected a good ass chewing as well as she walked over.
“Sarge, am I glad to see you!” she shouted.
The assistant was grinning. “Congratulations!”
“What for?” she replied, somewhat stunned. This was not what she expected.
He pushed back his helmet and looked her straight in the eye, “You did a great job up there; cool and collected under pressure. You probably saved my life. Shit, Lieutenant, you earned your jump pay tonight.”
He snapped to attention and saluted.
“Thanks, Sergeant”, she mumbled, a little embarrassed, as she returned his salute, “I hope every night jump isn’t this bad.”
“Hell, Lieutenant,” he laughed, “if it were easy, anyone could do it.”
"He’s right," she thought, "Not just anyone can do that."
Command Post
82nd ABN
Parachuting
Stories
Posted >1 y ago
Responses: 12
I have been in many units and been to many schools, Being a master Rated Jumpmaster is by far one of my highest accomplishments of the peacetime Army life.
(8)
(0)
7
7
0
When I was in Germany, the 82nd had a big push looking for airborne. They were like " we're looking for people to jump out of planes." It wasn't gonna be me cause I dont even jump to conclusions.
(7)
(0)
4
4
0
Read This Next
Continue with Facebook 
Continue with Google