The rush of excitement the
first time jumping out of a plane is difficult to explain. From the
pre-flight jitters sitting on the runway when the massive Hercules
arrives to taking your seat on one of the benches lining the inside
of the aircraft, my memory of my first jump is one I'll always hold
close.
Seated shoulder-to-shoulder
next to your best friends as the aircraft ascends from the runway,
the butterflies start to flap their own wings in your gut.
I can't believe the only
way out of this airplane is jumping out that door.
The
order comes in to remove your seatbelt and attach the cord of your
parachute to the steel cable running through the plane.
Left
door, attention! Nervously, you
stand up, gripping the cord as your row of paratroopers slowly edge
towards the gaping door. Step-by-step, you sense what's coming and
have absolutely no idea what to expect.
The
light next to the door turns green and bodies start flying out into
the open. Soon, it's your turn as you stand centimeters away from
nothingness. “Kfotz! (jump!)”
comes the scream of the instructor to your left as his hand slaps
your back. Without hesitation, you launch yourself out the door.
For
three seconds, your body is pulled like a rag-doll horizontally
through the air. You gasp, doing your best to catch your breath.
Then, like a gift from above, you hear the parachute folding open
above you and your body smoothly evens out. Glancing up to check for
errors in the chute, you say your thank-you that everything is okay
and you enjoy the view.
For
one minute, you glide seamlessly through the air, gazing over at the
shoreline of the Mediterranean and the skyscrapers in the distance.
As the ground comes closer, you estimate your direction of landing,
hold your legs tightly together and hope for the best.
Boom!
Unexpectedly,
you crash into the ground with enough force to shake you up. A rough
landing perhaps, but you're safe and that's the most important thing.
Such
was the routine of each one of my four jumps during the jump course.
Each one was unique in it's own way, the first being the only jump
done without any combat gear, the following three done with the sak
haze
(equipment bag).
I
thoroughly enjoyed the course. From the adrenaline rush to the views
to standing at the door (being the second one of the plane) waiting
for a full two minutes for the order to jump into the pitch black of
night during our night jump, the course was the most memorable week
I've had to date in the army.
It's
worth mentioning that the week did have a negative aspect or two to
it. The first jump is certainly exciting due to the unknown, but I
can speak for everyone who jumped when I say that each jump
afterwards is gradually more scary. Knowing how hard the impending
landing will be and seeing friends get injured due to the jump leads
to a fear that's difficult to explain, though the adrenaline quickly
sees off the anxiety.
The
injury bit leads me to the second negative aspect of the week. After
each jump, there were always a few who had been injured, sometimes
seriously. From broken legs to torn shoulders to small sprains,
improper technique or even simply bad luck led to some very
unfortunate injuries, ending the combat careers of many soldiers, an
awful sight to see. I, along with all of my friends, thankfully made
it through the week in one piece.
While
usually five jumps are included in the course, only four were
scheduled for us (the fifth being scheduled for a later point, but
more on that in a later post!). After safely landing for my fourth
time in the dark of the night, I knew that the following morning I
would be receiving something I had always dreamed about: the
Paratrooper wings of the Israel Defense Forces.
Receiving
the wings was honestly a dream come true for me, a moment I had
always imagined and couldn't believe had arrived. It capped off a
perfect week for me in the army, cementing my place as an Israeli
Paratrooper and fueling my motivation to push forward towards the end
of training.
After
jumping, we returned to base for a week of urban warfare before
embarking on a 25+5 KM masa, one I actually happened to find quite
easy. While spanning over six hours, I finished strongly with a smile
on my face, receiving the gun strap of my unit at the finish.
It
was amongst the best two weeks I've had since drafting, certainly a
shift in morale as the end of my time on the base draws closer.
More
posts to come very soon!
-Brett
No comments:
Post a Comment