Long but awesome read. As a paratrooper when I was in...the worst fear was a complete failure of your chute (ie...the chute failed to open). I had a partial on my final jump, due to my own fault because of a piss poor exit (hit the door, caused a spin and twisted risers that I didn't get out of until about 50ft above the ground)
This story is from another paratrooper watching a brother almost fall to his death due to a failure.... :
This one goes out to anyone who watched a Brother have a parachute malfunction and the feeling of helplessness as you watched him falling to his certain death. In 1979 during the summer the 82nds 2nd Brigade planned a mass tac jump. Bear in mind in my day the US Air Force didnt have enough planes for a Division size jump. Most they could muster was for a Brigade size jump. We found out later the logistics involved. The Army found a farmer outside Ft. Campbell. He was a corn farmer. They went to him and asked him how many acres of corn he had planted. He gave them a number. Then they asked how many bushels of corn he expected to harvest. Again he gave a number. Next they asked what the market value per bushel was. So the farmer gives a dollar figure. What I heard is that on the spot they handed him a check. The idea was we needed a large field close to Ft. Cambell and that is was to be rented for a Brigade mass tac and also to rehearse bringing in heavy equipment and also a USMC Bn. It was to rehearse what it would take to actually deploy a segment of troops and capture, hold and expand a hotly contested section of real estate. I think it was to see if we could invade a country and then expand the invasion point quickly. This was the height if the Cold War. We had attached to us Air Force Forward Observers. Marines. Even Naval F.O.s. the 101st was to be the OPFOR. Once we secured the D Z. Engineers would come in expand and create a runway to bring in heavy equipment and Armor. Coming out of the plane was like a scence from the movie "A Bridge Too Far". It was a daylight jump. Everywhere you looked were planes of all types. C130s and C141s. Men were filling the skies quickly. We were all yelling at each other so we wouldn't run into one another. It was very hectic up there. I seemed to be alright. I was an M60 gunner and I was looking around and then calculating when I would release my Alice pack then the weapon container holding the M60. Then I heard a collective yell. From the sound I heard it was above me. The sound I'd Heard of men yelling told me what we all were dreading. Somone was having a major parachute malfunction. The dreaded cigarette roll. I stared in horror as I watched a man plunging to his certain death. A feeling of helplessness washed over me. Nothing anyone could do but stare mesmerized as this mans certain death was approaching. I felt sick to my stomach. A feeling I later heard my buddies say they also felt as they were witness to this horrible impending death. I could hear men yelling. "Cut away. Pull your reserve". But he kept plunging towards the ground. From his position I think he was unconscious. We couldn't tell who it was that was about to die. It didn't matter his name cause at that moment he was all of us. All our fears, all our nightmares of a malfunction, all our terror at being stuck in a situation out of our control the Mantra we all learned "The sky is a harsh mistress, unforgiving of even the slightest mistake". All of us went through the same feeling of helplessness. He was limp and his head was tilted forward and down. He also wasnt coming straight down in a vertical fashion. It was more like an angle. He was falling between what seemed to be about 50 men. Just when he was about 100 ft above the deck and certain death he passed close to a paratrooper who like the rest of us was looking up in horror and was a witness to this mans certain death. This unknown hero, at the time we didnt know who he was, at the last possible second as the unconscious paratrooper passed him, reached out with perfect pinpoint timing and grabbed the top edge of this falling angels parachute. A split second too early and he would not have been close enough to catch him. A millionth of a second later and he would have missed him. And the man would have continued down to his death. I was 50 meters behind him. Couldn't see the saviors face. Could just make out he was Black, muscular and a big man. I was close enough to them to be able to hear the groan he gave out as he caught him. I dont know how he didn't dislocate his arms. But I heard the pain in his voice as he caught him. The cheer that went up from those of us close enough to have witnessed that Herculean catch was deafening. As we landed I was one of the closest to them as they came down.At 50 feet I released my Alice pack and Weapon. Pack and used my KBar to cut it loose before I landed. I wanted no encumberances. My PLF was shit. I hit the ground and bounced up. I guess my adrenalin took over. I pulled both quick release latches and ran over to where they were coming down. I wasnt alone. A couple of us caught the unconscious trooper before he hit. The savior came down a split second later and at the last second let the mans malfunctioned chute go. He did a standing landing. By this point all hell had broken loose. Medics and every Paratrooper within 100 meters came running over to help. As I pulled away the chute from the wounded Trooper I recognized him. Sgt Trimby.great ****in guy. Type of man you looked up to cause he took care of his men. A real leader. From our Plt. He was an freshly promoted E5. In those days promotions were few and far between. So he had to go to Ranger school to guarantee his promotion. He left a Specialist E4 and got his E5 Sgt stripes when he got back to Bragg. The hero who caught him was our Plt Sgt. SFC Walton. Viet-Nam Vet. 173rd Abn. He was a big man. Looked like a young Morgan Freeman, the actor. First time I saw Morgan Freeman in a movie I thought "Shit, Sgt Walton became an actor." He was the Best Plt Sgt Ive ever known. He was a major influence and role model for me for the rest of my life. Sucks what happened to him 6 months later. But that's another story for another time. Sgt Trimby recovered and came back to us a month later. Sgt Walton should have gotten a medal. But he didnt. As the medics took over we had rally points to get to and three weeks of missions to do. Never found out how his chute malfunctioned. But to this day I can say I witnessed the single greatest act of valor by Sgt Walton on that fateful day. I didn't stop jumping but some guys quit their jump status. Every time we jumped we knew that something like this could happen. But being young we always had the mindset "It cant happen to me." Sgt Walton. Wherever you are. I want to let you know because of your leadership you made us better paratroopers, better Infantrymen, better leaders, better men and for me a better Father. In all my career as a US Army Soldier, private contractor, parent and even as a counter terror cop here in Israel your "Lead by example", "Color Blind" and "Judge a Man by his actions not his Race" command style allowed me to become the man that I am today. When the Army ****ed you over and transfered you many of us felt like we lost a parent. Im not ashamed to say as I shook your hand for the last time the tears were real. God Bless you where ever you are. May it be in the US somewhere or heaven or Valhalla. I just pray that somewhere we will meet again.
This story is from another paratrooper watching a brother almost fall to his death due to a failure.... :
This one goes out to anyone who watched a Brother have a parachute malfunction and the feeling of helplessness as you watched him falling to his certain death. In 1979 during the summer the 82nds 2nd Brigade planned a mass tac jump. Bear in mind in my day the US Air Force didnt have enough planes for a Division size jump. Most they could muster was for a Brigade size jump. We found out later the logistics involved. The Army found a farmer outside Ft. Campbell. He was a corn farmer. They went to him and asked him how many acres of corn he had planted. He gave them a number. Then they asked how many bushels of corn he expected to harvest. Again he gave a number. Next they asked what the market value per bushel was. So the farmer gives a dollar figure. What I heard is that on the spot they handed him a check. The idea was we needed a large field close to Ft. Cambell and that is was to be rented for a Brigade mass tac and also to rehearse bringing in heavy equipment and also a USMC Bn. It was to rehearse what it would take to actually deploy a segment of troops and capture, hold and expand a hotly contested section of real estate. I think it was to see if we could invade a country and then expand the invasion point quickly. This was the height if the Cold War. We had attached to us Air Force Forward Observers. Marines. Even Naval F.O.s. the 101st was to be the OPFOR. Once we secured the D Z. Engineers would come in expand and create a runway to bring in heavy equipment and Armor. Coming out of the plane was like a scence from the movie "A Bridge Too Far". It was a daylight jump. Everywhere you looked were planes of all types. C130s and C141s. Men were filling the skies quickly. We were all yelling at each other so we wouldn't run into one another. It was very hectic up there. I seemed to be alright. I was an M60 gunner and I was looking around and then calculating when I would release my Alice pack then the weapon container holding the M60. Then I heard a collective yell. From the sound I heard it was above me. The sound I'd Heard of men yelling told me what we all were dreading. Somone was having a major parachute malfunction. The dreaded cigarette roll. I stared in horror as I watched a man plunging to his certain death. A feeling of helplessness washed over me. Nothing anyone could do but stare mesmerized as this mans certain death was approaching. I felt sick to my stomach. A feeling I later heard my buddies say they also felt as they were witness to this horrible impending death. I could hear men yelling. "Cut away. Pull your reserve". But he kept plunging towards the ground. From his position I think he was unconscious. We couldn't tell who it was that was about to die. It didn't matter his name cause at that moment he was all of us. All our fears, all our nightmares of a malfunction, all our terror at being stuck in a situation out of our control the Mantra we all learned "The sky is a harsh mistress, unforgiving of even the slightest mistake". All of us went through the same feeling of helplessness. He was limp and his head was tilted forward and down. He also wasnt coming straight down in a vertical fashion. It was more like an angle. He was falling between what seemed to be about 50 men. Just when he was about 100 ft above the deck and certain death he passed close to a paratrooper who like the rest of us was looking up in horror and was a witness to this mans certain death. This unknown hero, at the time we didnt know who he was, at the last possible second as the unconscious paratrooper passed him, reached out with perfect pinpoint timing and grabbed the top edge of this falling angels parachute. A split second too early and he would not have been close enough to catch him. A millionth of a second later and he would have missed him. And the man would have continued down to his death. I was 50 meters behind him. Couldn't see the saviors face. Could just make out he was Black, muscular and a big man. I was close enough to them to be able to hear the groan he gave out as he caught him. I dont know how he didn't dislocate his arms. But I heard the pain in his voice as he caught him. The cheer that went up from those of us close enough to have witnessed that Herculean catch was deafening. As we landed I was one of the closest to them as they came down.At 50 feet I released my Alice pack and Weapon. Pack and used my KBar to cut it loose before I landed. I wanted no encumberances. My PLF was shit. I hit the ground and bounced up. I guess my adrenalin took over. I pulled both quick release latches and ran over to where they were coming down. I wasnt alone. A couple of us caught the unconscious trooper before he hit. The savior came down a split second later and at the last second let the mans malfunctioned chute go. He did a standing landing. By this point all hell had broken loose. Medics and every Paratrooper within 100 meters came running over to help. As I pulled away the chute from the wounded Trooper I recognized him. Sgt Trimby.great ****in guy. Type of man you looked up to cause he took care of his men. A real leader. From our Plt. He was an freshly promoted E5. In those days promotions were few and far between. So he had to go to Ranger school to guarantee his promotion. He left a Specialist E4 and got his E5 Sgt stripes when he got back to Bragg. The hero who caught him was our Plt Sgt. SFC Walton. Viet-Nam Vet. 173rd Abn. He was a big man. Looked like a young Morgan Freeman, the actor. First time I saw Morgan Freeman in a movie I thought "Shit, Sgt Walton became an actor." He was the Best Plt Sgt Ive ever known. He was a major influence and role model for me for the rest of my life. Sucks what happened to him 6 months later. But that's another story for another time. Sgt Trimby recovered and came back to us a month later. Sgt Walton should have gotten a medal. But he didnt. As the medics took over we had rally points to get to and three weeks of missions to do. Never found out how his chute malfunctioned. But to this day I can say I witnessed the single greatest act of valor by Sgt Walton on that fateful day. I didn't stop jumping but some guys quit their jump status. Every time we jumped we knew that something like this could happen. But being young we always had the mindset "It cant happen to me." Sgt Walton. Wherever you are. I want to let you know because of your leadership you made us better paratroopers, better Infantrymen, better leaders, better men and for me a better Father. In all my career as a US Army Soldier, private contractor, parent and even as a counter terror cop here in Israel your "Lead by example", "Color Blind" and "Judge a Man by his actions not his Race" command style allowed me to become the man that I am today. When the Army ****ed you over and transfered you many of us felt like we lost a parent. Im not ashamed to say as I shook your hand for the last time the tears were real. God Bless you where ever you are. May it be in the US somewhere or heaven or Valhalla. I just pray that somewhere we will meet again.
