This feat has been in the works for multiple months and was accomplished over this past half term. My fellow cadets and I travelled to Netheravon Airfield, home of the Army Parachute Association, in March to take part in our static line training course and hopefully take our first jump on that same afternoon. However, the weather was not on our side and forced us to pack our bags in defeat.
Our SSI, Lt Evans nevertheless did not accept defeat and booked two weekends in May to ensure that we got off that plane “if it was the last thing I do”. And that he did, a promising pocket of sunshine and the skies opened for us the first weekend of the half term, and we took it.
An early rise of 4:30am braced us for the long ride down to Netheravon, and we were knocking on the hanger door bright and early ready to have our refresher training and get on the manifest. Training was a repetition of previously taught knowledge, vital drills for us to remember if something went wrong. I think I can speak for all when I say that “Look! Locate! Cut! Away! Reserve! Arch!” will be engrained into our minds for quite some time. I can’t also leave out the kicking and wriggling that we were made to do on the floor…
Refresher training concluded and the only thing left was the long wait for our names to appear on the board. An air of tense excitement was felt as we all sat around eating our lunch in the sun, watching plane after laden plane take off and return with no passengers inside. Eventually it was our turn, suiting up and preparing for the jump was filled with lots of checking and double checking.
The time had come, and it was our turn, so after a final brief we were packed onto the plane (packed being an understatement). Most would presume the flight up would be silent, filled with nerves, but there was an air of calm, accompanied by some laughter. When the door opened, however, the plane did fall quiet. Out first was RSM Pickering, who braved exiting first, he was followed by myself, then CQMS Pemble, SSgt Jones, SSgt Melarkey, WO2 Cole, and finally WO Byard-Jones.
Jumping out wasn’t the hardest bit, it was the long build-up towards it. By the point I pushed myself out the door, I’d done so much repetition that when I heard the command words, “In the door, look up, go,” I was on autopilot. You’d hope I’d be more reprehensive about chucking myself out of a plane, but here we are. Once out, I had a checklist to complete.
Firstly, I count to 5, if I don’t and look straight up, well I’d be looking at nothing. Following the countdown I do a rather obvious check: Is it big? Is it rectangular? Is it free from damage? Can I control it?
The rest of the trip down was a blur of adrenaline and elation. But the time came where the ground was only 400ft below, and I had to complete my jump. The landing area was nearing quickly, and my final bit of training came into practice. Knees and ankles braced, I flared at 10ft and slowed. Turns out I didn’t need to brace as I gently touched the ground on my feet. The elation didn’t fade as I watched my friends glide through the air and land one by one, some more graceful than others…
I’d like to thank Flt Lt Bennett who accompanied us, provided us with his expert knowledge of parachuting and static line jumping, and jumped with us.
Finally, I’d like to emphasise the effort that Lt Evans has put in and thank him for his dedication and persistence in getting us on that plane, spending multiple weekends driving us back and forth.
Utrinque Paratus – “Ready for Anything”
