HUNTERS FROM THE SKY
By Cinique’ Scott

I woke to the sound of the jumpmaster, “Wake up soldier we’re getting close.” It was around dusk and we were scheduled to do a jump over Sicily Drop Zone. It was dark on back of that C130 aircraft. The only thing I saw was the red light that illuminated our confined space. It was my first fully combat equipped jump. And when I say combat equipped I mean carrying about 150lbs of equipment on your front and back. That equipment was very heavy and very uncomfortable. It didn’t make this experience any easier but seemed to make it more intense. It was as hot as snake breath in there and you could feel the tension in the air. I was sweating profusely, but I never knew if it was from the temperature or from fear. I could see fear in everyone’s eyes. No matter how brave they seemed before hand…it was quiet. I noticed a soldier, I didn’t know, vomit in one of the airsickness bags. Then I saw another grab his collar and vomit in his shirt. It started a chain reaction causing three more men to vomit soon after. The smell made me nauseous, but I swallowed hard and held my lips together tightly. The fact that it was so hot in that plane didn’t help the situation at all.
“Ten Minutes!” yelled the jumpmasters. Everyone that was sleeping awoke and repeated, “Ten minutes!” The air thinned a bit because the time was nearing. “Inside personal stand up!” yelled the jumpmasters. Everyone again echoed the jumpmasters command. The echo was to ensure everyone heard the commands over the roaring engine of the plane. And at a twenty-five hundred foot altitude your eardrums are sure to pop. Everyone on the inside rows of the plane stood up. Sixty-four paratroopers were packed inside a C130 aircraft like sardines. Shuffled in two rows, cattycorner from each other, and in rows of 16. “Outside personal stand-up!” Jumpmaster said and we echoed. The outside rows stood up. “Hook up!” He yelled, and your right we echoed. Now that I think about it, this is how it always is in the service. You better repeat to show that you understand and that there is no miscommunication. We all then hooked our static lines, that were ran from our parachute, to the metal cable running from the front to the back of the plane near our heads. The static line helps pull your parachute out on time. “Check static lines! Check equipment!” They yelled. We all started to check the person in front of us for static line defaults and then we were to check our own equipment. “Last two men turn toward the skin of the aircraft and the second to last man check the last mans static line!” They yelled but not in unison. This we never repeated because of its difficulty. The last two men completed they’re task. “Count off!” They yelled and we repeated. Starting from the front of the plane each soldier counted and slapped the paratrooper in front of him on the buttocks when complete. Now we were to jump out of the back doors of the plane. When the count was finished the first jumper, which was I, said, “All OK jumpmaster!” Both jumpmaster’s looked at each other and nodded their heads for approval.
This was my cherry blast so I had to carry a cherry pie in my cargo-pocket, which they smashed up back in the pack-shed. The plane hit an air pocket and jolted I could feel the pie filling moving against my leg. Everyone shook and some fell on one another. It was at that moment that I was reminded about how much equipment I had on. It was heavy and almost unbearable. By this time I had held my urine for about as long as I could. I was almost ready to get out of this plane.
The jumpmasters then both opened the two back doors. They secured themselves and hung out of the door. The breeze that engulfed the plane brought in with it a sort of cool relief but also a cold reminder of the danger that lay ahead. I could see the earth role past beneath us. It was breathtaking. The jumpmaster’s leaned back inside the door held up one finger and said, “One minute!” He then motions for me to step closer to the door. My heart sank and my feet were cold as ice. I said a quick prayer and tried to steady my self against the rocking of the plane. I clinched ol’Betsy, my M16, and wondered about the journey that lay ahead for me. The jumpmaster then says, “Thirty seconds!” He grabs a hand full of my static line and moves me closer to the door. I took a deep swallow and pulled everything I had together. I closed my eyes and tried to remember what I first thought about when I signed up for this. I gained enough relief in the rush it would provide to open my eyes. The jumpmaster then says, “GO!” From that moment on everything was in slow motion. I walked out of the door and was immediately pulled away from the plane. I was falling rapidly and counting, one-one thousand, two- one thousand, three-one thousand, four-one thousand. At that moment I felt a sharp pull at my groin area as the parachute opened. For a short while I saw earth then sky, then earth then sky. I gradually stopped bouncing. The fear and adrenaline rush that I felt was like no other. I finally calmed down and took a good look around me, and at my parachute. I am safe now. As the plane speed away I could hear nothing. I just fell toward the earth from twenty-five hundred feet and admired the peace and tranquility of the sunset sky. It was the best thing I had ever experienced, yet the scariest. This is for all my hunters from the sky at Ft. Bragg, NC. “AIRBORNE!”