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An Ignorant Youth Seeks High Adventure In October 1976 two charter buses arrived outside the 82nd Airborne Personnel Replacement Detachment at Fort Bragg. I was one of 50 soldiers fresh from the Army's Jump School who would stand in a series of long lines to process into the famed division. The process required five days to complete and ended with a daylight jump using the new steerable parachute. On the last day of processing, the replacement troopers loaded waiting trucks for a short ride to Saint Mere Eglise Drop Zone. Upon arrival, we quickly donned our parachutes and were inspected by our Jump Masters. A couple of "Huey" helicopters soon arrived and settled down in front of us. I watched as groups of eight paratroopers ran to each aircraft. The helicopters lifted off, climbing to a thousand feet above the drop zone. I watched as the troopers parachuted back to earth, landing in the brush filled drop zone. I was excited to get a helicopter jump. Through the swirling dust from the rotor wash I ran to the aircraft's open door. It was a beautiful day; the air was cool, calm, and clear. The flight was brief and I was the fourth jumper to exit the aircraft. It was all perfect, up to the point that the fifth jumper mistakenly steered his chute into mine. He became hopelessly entangled in my suspension lines, trapped under my canopy and above my head. The intruding jumper, a Replacement Detachment clerk had been in the Airborne long enough to know that a horrible death likely awaited us. On the other hand, with less than five months in the Army, I was blissfully ignorant. The clerk's parachute collapsed on top of mine. The added weight of his chute caused my parachute to partially collapse then reinflate like an accordion being played. As trained, I grabbed the entangled clerk's boot and pulled him down until we were face to face, which was enough to pull his chute off of mine. My chute regained its shape, stabilized, and slowed our descent. Holding each other's parachute harness, we rode my parachute to the ground. We landed hard but without injuries. Although it was an exciting jump, I never enjoyed helicopter jumps after that. Eventually I would realize how lucky you are if adventures only produce vivid memories and a bit of wisdom. ~ Dave Moreland, club contacts are mlarchibald@mac.com and andreazehner20@ gmail.com FOUR SEASONS BREEZE | JANUARY 2021 47 Writers' Club Check with your club contact to confirm meeting place, date, and time.