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 A blog of no uncertain musings. What goes on in my mind is often a source of wonder to me. |
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My mind and my life are wonderous things ... as are yours, I'm sure. I have more slips of paper and pages of notebooks with musings and thoughts than I really know what to do with. Someone, actually several someones, have suggested I start a blog ... or a journal as a means of focusing some of this mental energy. To be honest, I don't even know what the difference between a 'journal' and 'blog' is--or if there even is a difference. Read on, my friends, and you can judge for yourself whether it even matters. And so....  I'm JACE. Yep ... that's me! And somewhere in all my writings my last name may be posted. But I'll just leave it at Jace for right now. I'm 70 years old and heading full tilt to 71. It's strange that while I'm going through some rather serious medical issues, I still consider myself to be in the prime of my life--pretty good shape physically AND mentally, though I don't run for competition anymore  . I love to ... dang, if I put this stuff here, I won't have anything for my blog.Guess you just have to be patient until such stuff leaks out.  Perhaps 2025, having embraced my retirement, will see more participation in my journaling efforts. Well, one can hope.... |
An entry "Writing.Com in Wonderland"  , Day 1: I joined Writing.Com at 8:34am on 2 May 08 after stumbling onto the site while looking for a replacement for the defunct Yahoo 360. I posted my first story, called "The Young Mother" and based on a real event, at 3:57pm the following day after a bit of trial and error. My first review came from Allyson Lindt  with 4.5 stars for "The Refuge" on 4 May 08 at 1:12pm, which really swelled my head. In less than a month, I had filled my Free Portfolio with ten stories and poems. The first merit badge I actually earned came on 1 Jun 08 for a 3rd Place May entry entitled "Fulfillment" to the "100 Words Contest" .  My first stop with a paid membership was Upgraded before the end of May 08. I have been a Premium member since Aug 08. Because of my penchant for writing erotica, I became a member of my first group--"Unofficial Erotica Newsletter Group" where I met their leader, Jeff  . Later, Jeff invited me to become a member of "Rising Stars of WdC" , where he acted as my mentor. One thing I learned from my mentor was that I was not alone here; help was available for any feature that eluded me. Friends like Brooke  , Purple Celebrating 25!  , Shannon  , and many others too numerous to name here, taught me many lessons about the workings of WDC. While I was more off than on with it, I wrote my first Blog entry on 10 Dec 08 after acting on a suggestion from a member who's name I do not recall. Embracing blogging has been a recent phenomenon with 56% of my total 184 entries coming in the past six months. I was promoted to Preferred Author on 14 Nov 08. I won the WYRM's Gauntlet, a challenge-based writing-intensive speculative Sci Fi contest, with "The Warlock's Circle " in 2009. I was chosen as one of a select group to help write and collate "Writing.Com 101" , which took about six months to produce, and was released sitewide the same day I was promoted to Moderator--30 Jul 10. I've been a full-time editor of the Noticing Newbies newsletter since my first edition on 29 Jun 2011. I was honored to be promoted to Senior Moderator on 1 Aug 13. I don't have a writing support group outside of Writing.Com, though I do talk with people who comment on one of the many WDC shirts I wear almost daily. Since retiring about a year and a half ago, I've resumed my reviewing efforts completing almost 25% of my total qualified reviews in that period. While I don't consider myself a poet by nature, I enjoy writing form poetry with a special bent toward limericks. I'm currently working on a series of memoirs of my life for my kids and grand-kids. I visit Writing.Com every day possible ... as long as WiFi is available. Tis a mite sad that I have far too many friends and acquaintances to be listed in the space I have available here, With imitation being the sincerest form of flattery, I'm emulating Annette  's submission with my format for this challenge. |
Part 3 Week 3: Jump Week. The days of push-ups, sit-ups and long runs are over. The training area was about a click (one kilometer) from the airfield. Each morning we would run to the airfield in formation and get outfitted with our gear for jumping. The run was designed to weed out those who were injured enough to be unable to jump. And like every other morning we’d enjoyed thus far, it was hot! We were divided into groups, called sticks, based on the plane from which we would be jumping (either a C-130 propeller-driven cargo plane or a C-141 jet engine driven cargo plane). I don’t remember how many were in a stick, but we hoped the powers that be allowed for personal confusion, reluctance and reticence, and just plain stupidity on our part when determining how many needed to jump from each plane. Needless to say, the Black Hats were there to apply their size 14 boot to the fourth point of contact of any cadet unable to exit the door on his own. After the first such application of persuasion, the rest of us moved smartly to the door and into freedom. Actually, after baking on an asphalt runway for an hour or so in full gear, waiting to board a plane with no air-conditioning, and packed in so tight we could barely breathe, we welcomed the opportunity for a little freedom. While waiting to board the airplane, the Black Hats would impart bits of wisdom for us to remember thus making our jumps safer. Such as: - "While the drop zone is fairly large, you must exit the aircraft in a timely manner so that those at the end of your stick have time to exit while still over the drop zone. The aircraft will not circle back to allow late jumpers to exit." - "If you are first in line to jump, you will be required to “stand in the door.” You’ll be afforded the opportunity to grip the handles firmly on each side of the open door facing outward for up to 30 seconds before jumping. If you exit early, or fall out, you will be landing in trees." - "In the event you find yourself floating toward another parachute, pull down on your risers (ropes running from your harness to your canopy) to steer away." - "If you are unsuccessful at moving away and you find yourself above another canopy, your ‘chute may collapse due to lack of air from the one below causing you to land on top of it. Double-time off that canopy quickly to allow your parachute to reinflate, thus depositing you safely on the ground. Remember you have seconds to react." - "There is a stream that meanders through the middle of the drop zone. If, by chance, you see that you will be landing in the stream, begin double-timing out of that stream as soon as your feet touch water. The stream is heavily populated with water moccasins and cottonmouth snakes." - Finally, you are required to make five jumps and the first four landings safely in order to graduate. If your fifth landing is not successful, they will pin your wings on your chest where you lay. As I mentioned, military parachuting is much different than civilian parachuting. The military uses smaller, round canopies designed to put a soldier on the ground as quickly as possible, thus lessening the chances of being shot in a combat situation. The faster descent is why we practiced PLF landings ad nauseum to avoid injuries. We didn’t train for free-fall jumps. We jumped using static lines, which means our parachute automatically deployed when we exited the plane, hopefully error-proofing the process. Jumping from a height of 1250 feet, we would be in the air from 30 seconds to a minute. Longer times were a bonus courtesy of thermal updrafts, something I was not lucky enough to experience. “Stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door” was a phrase we heard once, or twice … or a hundred times during training. Nowhere is this more appropriate than packed in a plane awaiting your turn to exit. Our plane would be going at 130 to 150 miles per hour when we jumped requiring both a sense of urgency when exiting and a need for good form. And then we were free. If you were able to overcome your natural tendency to close your eyes when you jumped (euphemistically called a ‘night jump’), you were treated to an awesome view of the aircraft leaving you in a huge arc as the prop or jet blasts caught your parachute as it opened pushing you away from the plane. Despite how fast we exited the plane, its speed was often enough to provide adequate separation between the canopies that now dotted the sky. For the next 20 seconds or so, you were alone in the world, floating to earth with a breeze in your face and a feeling of calm like you’ve never known. After that all-to-brief feeling of serenity, you find the ground rushing toward you quicker than you thought. Almost before you know it, your feet touched the ground, and you executed the perfect PLF for which you’ve trained so often. You laid on the ground for a few moments, thanking God you’re okay, while a small part of your mind told you that you’d just done the dumbest thing of your life. Then you got up, gathered your gear in your arms and began double-timing off the drop zone following your fellow cadets. I remember wondering if they were going in the right direction. After returning to our barracks, we all celebrated the day’s events with the only alcohol available—cans of 3.2 beer. The next day we again ran our mile, got our gear and tempted fate once more. We had four more jumps to make, actually making five jumps in four days. Second … third … fourth … I was beginning to think of these jumps as routine. Then Thursday afternoon, our fifth and final jump occurred. I was dealt an unexpected turn. As luck would have it, my jump was to be made from a C-141. Remember the -141 had jet engine. AND, I was to be first out. Jumping from a plane with a jet engine had a twist—when the door opened, a baffled wall about the size of the door opening deployed to deflect the wash from the engine. Without the baffle, I would likely be slammed into the plane’s fuselage before clearing the tail. And since I was first in line and standing in the door awaiting the Go command, I wondered if I’d be able to let go of the frame on which I had a death grip. Suddenly it occurred to me why we had to jump out 36 inches! So much to remember…. “GO!” My reflexes took over and I was free once again. After landing, I jumped up and took stock of all body parts. I began whooping and hollering—I had done it! Graduation was Friday morning, though a bit anti-climactic. The pomp and circumstance didn’t meet with the intensity of the previous three weeks. Frankly, Everett and I were anxious to begin the 2000 mile trek home. During one of the weekends, we were able to go shopping at the PX (Post Exchange). I had picked up the initial release of a Marshall Tucker Band. Somehow on the trip home, that record had been moved to the back window shelf, the sun turning it into a shallow bowl. To this day, I still have that album. Nope, can’t tell you why I kept it. But a penny on the turntable needle played the album perfectly. Also, on the way home, another thought occurred to me. Until Airborne School, I’d never even been in a plane. During this course, I had taken off in five planes and made five parachute jumps. It turns out that I would not actually land in a plane until I flew to West Germany to my initial posting with the 12th Engineer Battalion some four years later. Airborne School was definitely an experience to remember. I would never jump out of a plane again. But, I have to say it was an adventure I would always cherish. Thanks for joining me on this memory. |
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