First Drop
Today is D-Day for our first drop. Under the burden of their equipment, a bunch of paratroopers waddle in a long queue on the taxiway. As I board the plane, I remember the last two months of training before our first jump. Like most of my friends, one of the reasons I decided to embark on this adventure was to avoid the numerous chores relevant to the job of a cadet in the Army!
Even if I am now questioning myself, I have made my commitment. What am I doing? Will I have the courage to jump? I must do it! My honor is at stake! Still, my body does not want to surrender to my will. I am afraid that someone will have to push me out!
As the engines roar to give the plane enough speed to take off, the cabin vibrates and there is a deafening noise. The crew members have to motion with their hands to give their orders. As the H-Hour approaches, I can read the increasing anxiety on my friends' faces. I stare at the red lights, just above the gates, that are going to shift to green when the plane flies over the drop zone. I feel terribly nervous. My heartbeats resound inside my head.
I have to do it, I tell myself again! Will my legs obey when I have to stand up? Even if my mind is willing, I am not sure my body will agree. All of a sudden, a strident siren yells as the lights turn green! The dispatchers wave at us to quickly stand up. We cannot afford to take our time. If we waste too much time, the plane will overtake the target area. All the men stand up like robots. One by one, they disappear through the gates as if they were caught by nothingness. The row of men between me and the gate decreases too quickly. I wish that an unexpected event would cause the plane to turn back before I have to jump. Unfortunately, all is going well, and the men are relentlessly swallowed into the nothingness.
In a few seconds, it will be my turn. Soon, I am going to face the monster that has devoured all my friends! The man who preceded me has just vanished into thin air. I finally stand at the threshold of the door. Then, I feel the shock of the cold. The wind violently slaps my face. Now, I am expected to throw myself out of the plane. However, my arms and my legs obstinately refuse to chuck me out. I know that if I hesitate much longer, we will overtake the landing place. I desperately seek the will to jump in the depths of my soul. Every man of my company jumped before me! I am not a coward! I am not reckless either, and throwing myself from a plane is not much more difficult than diving from a diving board into a swimming pool! Now, I can see countless white mushrooms floating and pitching in the sky.
It is up to me to meet with them there! I just have to push strongly with my legs, to pull with my arms, and the wind will stop slapping my face, the cold will stop freezing my body, and the deafening noise will stop breaking through my ears! Just push! Just push strongly! Then, plucking up my courage, I throw myself out of the plane! For a few seconds, I do not know where my head is. I do not know where my legs are, and I do not know where my arms are. For a few seconds, I do not know if I am dreaming or if I am awake. I do not know if my parachute will open correctly. I do not know if the shock will be as terrible as it is said, when the parachute opens. At least, I am not cold anymore, and the noise is now bearable. Suddenly, my parachute opens and powerfully deploys its white corolla. The shock is brutal. In the blink of an eye, my speed decreases and I feel that I am rising whereas the second before I was falling like a rock. The strap, which automatically opened my parachute, has worked perfectly. If it did not, I would surely have complained about it to my instructor!
Now, I am floating among dozens of mushrooms that are sparsely spread in the sky because of a capricious wind. What strikes me, is that I am able to babble with my neighbours who are floating dozens of meters away from me, whereas just a few minutes before, I had to yell to communicate with my closest neighbour in the plane.
The slow descent is such a delightful moment! It will last one or two minutes before I land. I take advantage of this time to monitor the sails and parachute strings. They look good. Now, the first parachutists are landing in a large field that looks particularly tiny seen from above. The landing is a tricky phase. Our instructors often told us stories about legs or ankles getting fractured during this critical phase. It is very worrying! To land safely, it is important to find a landmark in the landing area, otherwise, it is impossible to accurately assess the altitude. A tree or a barn are good choices, but an ambulance is a better one! I do not want to stick my neck out, so after little hesitation, I choose the ambulance. In case of problems, I will be closer to the rescuers. You can never be too careful! There are only a few seconds before I land. The soil is approaching more quickly. Two seconds before the impact!..... One second!..... I close my eyes!... Touch down!.... All that I have been taught is forgotten! To say the least, there is nothing to boast about my landing! At least, all's well that ends well! During the debriefing, I asked my instructor how many minutes he thought I took to make my decision to jump. He answered: Man! It was not minutes but seconds! I would say, barely two seconds!
