My Fist Jump
My first Jump
It was summer 08’, 105 degrees, and the place was Ft. Benning,Ga. It felt just like basic training due to the hours and hours of intensive waiting with full gear on. Frustration was at its maximum. I was about to become another member of the selected community of paratroopers in the US army. The rough sound of the airplane engines approaching, the harness shed announced the meeting with my destiny. There I was minutes away from my first jump in airborne school. The jumpmasters call for shock number 7 to rise and get ready. As I stood up I noticed my uniform was soaking wet, but it did not matter at that point. I had many more things in my mind than trying to keep a clean appearance. Walking down the runway and feeling the wind of the angry engines hitting my face made me realize that this time was for real. This was creating all kinds of crazy thoughts in my mind, from how to practice a perfect PLF (parachute landing fall) to parachute malfunctions. Once inside the airplane, we sat on these tiny seats where my body was totally against the person next to me. As soon as the aircraft took off it felt that there was no oxygen. Then as if there was a miracle from God, the air vents opened up to let a cool nice breeze out. According to the pilot winds were high, that would make the jump to be postpone for a while, so it did. My level of nervousness increased as they gave the 10 minute warning, followed by the instructional commands. I hooked up my static line to the main cable of the aircraft. At that specific point something happened that I never had experienced in my life. I could not control my body shaking just like a newborn chicken. I tried all the techniques learned during my 3 week training, but my involuntary movements would not stop. The air was tense, and also the faces of my fellow jumpers. I could not believe that I was doing something that I once said I would never do. With one hand on my reserve parachute and the
It was summer 08’, 105 degrees, and the place was Ft. Benning,Ga. It felt just like basic training due to the hours and hours of intensive waiting with full gear on. Frustration was at its maximum. I was about to become another member of the selected community of paratroopers in the US army. The rough sound of the airplane engines approaching, the harness shed announced the meeting with my destiny. There I was minutes away from my first jump in airborne school. The jumpmasters call for shock number 7 to rise and get ready. As I stood up I noticed my uniform was soaking wet, but it did not matter at that point. I had many more things in my mind than trying to keep a clean appearance. Walking down the runway and feeling the wind of the angry engines hitting my face made me realize that this time was for real. This was creating all kinds of crazy thoughts in my mind, from how to practice a perfect PLF (parachute landing fall) to parachute malfunctions. Once inside the airplane, we sat on these tiny seats where my body was totally against the person next to me. As soon as the aircraft took off it felt that there was no oxygen. Then as if there was a miracle from God, the air vents opened up to let a cool nice breeze out. According to the pilot winds were high, that would make the jump to be postpone for a while, so it did. My level of nervousness increased as they gave the 10 minute warning, followed by the instructional commands. I hooked up my static line to the main cable of the aircraft. At that specific point something happened that I never had experienced in my life. I could not control my body shaking just like a newborn chicken. I tried all the techniques learned during my 3 week training, but my involuntary movements would not stop. The air was tense, and also the faces of my fellow jumpers. I could not believe that I was doing something that I once said I would never do. With one hand on my reserve parachute and the