Cowards

Tower week is finished. The tower week consisted training for actions to be conducted in the air, such as ‘slipping’ (or steering). We need to know how ‘slip’ so we are able to avoid other idiots with parachutes in the air.

This week wasn’t too different from the first. We started out practicing landing again by jumping off walls into areas filled with gravel while wearing helmets- yea, we’re cool. Then, we went to a training area the cadre calls ‘The Slaughterhouse.” It’s not as scary as it sounds, it’s just an area filled with risers hanging from the ceiling so we can practice pulling down on them.

Next we moved to the Swing Landing Trainer. There’s that word again, ‘Land.’ For this, we jump off an eight-foot platform while an instructor catches us in the air with a rope-and-pulley system (similar to a medieval torture device) connected to our harness. Then, at the most apropos time he quickly releases the rope, giving us the opportunity to practice ‘landing!’ Awesome!

What’s next? The 250-foot tower! A 250-foot tower with four arms, each with a cable and winch that pulls the jumper up 250 feet before dropping them completely to afford them the experience of ‘slipping’ in mid-air. But don’t worry; this marvelous piece of equipment is operated by army civilians, the only people who could care less than soldiers.

I wasn’t too excited at the prospect of training on the tower, but I figured as long as someone else did it first it’d be okay. Of course, my instructor selected me immediately to go first. I decided I would be passive, yet defiant. I moved at sloth-like speed getting into the harness allowing the marine behind me to pass me in line. As they began to hoist him up in the air I was comforted by the sight of one of his suspension lines breaking before they removed him and ordered me up into the apparatus.

They jerked me foot-by-foot up to the top of the tower. I could see all of Ft. Benning and most of Columbus. Under the moan of the winch I could hear the faint sound of the person in the tower telling me to clap my heels together if I understood. Understood what?! I did nothing. A minute later he would come back on, this time louder, instructing me to steer away from the tower upon my release, as if I needed to be told. I reluctantly clapped my heels together and immediately was released.

The half-second it took for the parachute to catch me seemed like an eternity. I quickly pulled the front set of risers steering me away from the gigantic tower. As I approached the ground an instructor yelled to me from a bullhorn. He indicated that he wanted me to fall on my left side, so I made the appropriate change. A second later he changed his mind and instructed me to switch sides. The distance between me and the ground was shrinking quickly. I did nothing. A second later he changed his mind again and told me to ‘stick with’ what I had, which I was good because I had no intention of changing from the beginning.

A second later I landed safely on the soft, tilled dirt of the training field. I kissed the ground, jumped to my feet and quickly proceeded to tell my comrades that they were cowards for having their reservations.

"landing"

I just completed my first week at airborne school. It's been pretty fun, but not really what I expected.

First, we run everywhere, and I mean everywhere. After PT we run to breakfast, then we run to the training area, then we run to lunch, and so on... Not only that, but we do it wearing these seven pound helmets like a freaking pack of retards on a marathon or something. It's not that it's THAT tough or anything, it's just somewhat bothersome since I strained my right knee a few weeks before I came.

Second, we do pull-ups all day. I knew there would be some pull-ups involved, but I had no idea it would be ten before and after each meal- in addition to the ones we do at PT and in our harnesses.

Third, it's full of kids! Babies. I thought there would be more time to joke around and enjoy the training, but because of the distribution of rank I have to be a stick leader and babysit kids all day.

And finally, it's more painful than I thought. They're training us how to "land" a parachute that's descending at 22-feet per second! "Landing" is basically a nice way of saying "smashing into the ground so as to minimize the risk of SERIOUSLY hurting yourself." I say SERIOUSLY because no matter how you "land," it's going to hurt. It's like jumping off your roof and saying you flew. Stupid

Anyway, the first week included a basic familiarization, the mock door, 34-foot tower (shown above) as well as the lateral drift apparatus (a wheel we slide along on a suspended cable).

I'm just glad I finished the first week. One more week of tower training and then I'll be jumping out of planes (which I hear is relatively easy)!

i stand alone

Keila and Rena have been my family for longer than I can remember. Time passes when I don't hear from them for longer than I like. I used to feel lonely, but now I comfort myself with the thought of them.

I've learned that success, while derived from many places, cannot be achieved without a solid foundation. There must be a base, a purpose- they are my purpose. They're the reason I wake in the morning, and the single thought that is the center of my consciousness everyday.

I've always loved Keila and Baby. I always thought I stood alone, but the older I grow, the more I realize that's not true. They're with me always.