Walk off, jump off, whatever. He was going out of that airplane. Very soon. After having done it only five times previously, more than 12 years ago. Seemingly without direction, people started moving about getting things organized for the jump. The ‘chute truck pulled up beside the van, and men began pitching in to spread a large tarp onto the sandy ground. Jumpmasters lined their jumpers up in chalk order, and parachutes and reserves were issued out. J.D. and his crew separated from the main group of jumpers and approached the Casa. Faith was surprised to see that it was painted in a gaudy, irregular pattern, and the crew flying it appeared to be civilians. But from the greetings exchanged, it appeared that the flight crew and the men of the ODA had at least met in the past.
Having received his equipment, Faith assumed his place in line on the tarp within his chalk. As he was idly wondering if he even remembered how to get all this gear on, MSG Marion appeared with three other jumpers in tow. Like Faith, all three (two young specialists and a very-young-looking-for-her-rank E6) all had the white and red helmets that designated “cherry” jumpers.
“Hey sir,” MSG Marion said as he walked up, “These three just graduated from jump school last month, this is going to be their cherry blast. I think they’re all a bit nervous, I figured I’d bring them over to meet you to see if you had any words of wisdom for them, since they’re all in the MID.”
Faith looked the group over. The two young men, Faith guessed they were 18, 19 tops, definitely looked a bit nervous. Not scared necessarily, but nervous. The other one, the female NCO, didn’t look nervous or scared. In fact, she looked excited about the jump. “If I only weighed 90 pounds even when I was under harness, like this woman does, I wouldn’t hit the ground like a sack of cement every time, and I might enjoy this too,” Faith muttered mentally.
some of you have a very long memory...
