Only in the Army. Always enjoyed it. Haven’t jumped since.
Oh .... a few hundred times maybe. Sicily, Salerno, Nijmegen, Suchon up at Cambell, Gatun in Panama on a couple of occasions. Gold in the Mohave, ... we had seven killed and 156 critically injured on that jump ... including my S3 Air Bob Brietmeyer in Gallant Eagle 82. Drag killed him. Horrible way to die. Then Granada, then Pamama City. Then Beruit out of Vicenza to save the jar heads. Later Kuwait. I had made csm by then. Then, long dark jumps until Iraq with many a jump on Bragg and a few others here and there amd aroundp. Various places in Europe and North Africa.
German, French, Israeli and Italian wings.
I still remember every jump, every DZ, every time of day and bird. Was primary on most of them. Lead bird. I was honestly a helluva Jumpmaster. Took great pride in it. All other paratroops were in awe of our fearlessness and combat rediness. My log book is a thing of beauty.
I recollect those days with great pride. 123s, 130s, 141s, C5As ... we were all broken but bulletproof. We could not be beaten. We feared no man. None.
Oh well. The broken bones are a constant reminder. It's hard to explain the Brotherhood.
