It was a great morning. We were sitting and waiting. The sun came up, the wind whispering quietly. Like it was saying; Its gonna be alright. Didn't had that feeling at all. Twenty off us looking calm, but nothing like that at all. Looking at each other we just knew we were thinking the same thing, nothing.
The sun was getting warmer and I started to sweat. The metal roof warmed up quickly and transformed in some sort of toaster. Yesterday they put us out in the blazing sun with our face down in the brown crispy grass, arms and legs spread.
Then there was a shouting voice; "Do you know what you are doing". From earlier experiences nobody moved and said anything. "This is how you come down when your chute isn't opening", he yelled, "Get up and rest and get ready for tomorrow, your first jump."
The sound of a jeep in the distance brought me back to reality again. Who would that be? Heads raised and hopeful we saw who we hoped to see. It was our friend the pastor. He was in his sixties but didn't want to quit his job. He had a strength in him and was able to pass it on, on to us. Normally we were yelled at and straitened up, uniform check, chest up, lined up and looking straight forward.
After all he was a higher officer in rank than anyone else.
Not now, but we stood up and wanted him to talk. He looked at us and said;"I want to give you guys something". When he called my name I walked to him and shook his hand and thanked him for showing up. I am totally not religious but if people get strength to do something or help them in difficult times, do belief.
He opened his hand and there was a necklace and with a little picture of St. Michael. This is the guardian of the paratroopers, he will help you. I thanked hem and like a bunch of young girls getting their first necklace we put them on.
There was our plane again. It brought us from our base to this, call it jumping field. It landed and with our jumping gear -only the chutes- we entered it through the same door we later should jump out. The drill begun. Our weeks of ground training would pay off. We took off and everybody looked at the jumpleader. Check chutes, hook on, red light, he pointed at the light and yes it was red.
Entering the plane as last one I figured out that I would be the first one at the door. The jumpleader nodded at me and I took position at the door, no way back know. Looking at the red light the jumpleader opened the door and yelled hold on. Still looking at the light I smelled the gasoline and felt the suction of the open door. "Green on", he yelled. I concentrated me and looked down. With only 900 feet to go everything looked so small but again not that small. "RED, RED"; he yelled, and pulled me from the door. Something I didn't counted on I was ready to go. Confused I looked at him and he pointed down. Three choppers flew unannounced over our dropzone. That would be a nice landing, on the blades.
The light turned green again. I took position again. "Green on", he yelled again, "GO". There was the slap on the shoulder and I jumped out as far as I could. Then the pulling of the cord and the shock that the chute opened. Looking around I saw the rest hanging in the air. With three people out in two seconds we were almost running out off the plane.
Then coordination, where was I, and in the mean time getting ready to land.
Save down I thanked St. Michael for taking care of me and boy that was fun. After that first jump we where fearless and jumped as much as we could.
Not many people can say I jumped out of several plains an helicopters in daylight and night. But I can. For everyone not having the experience of parachute jumping, please try and feel free, what I felt.
