The entire group of paratroopers sits inside what is known as the Rigger shed, waiting for our aircraft, an Air Force C-17, to show up on the tarmac. We're all wearing parachutes and combat gear, idling and sweating inside our cammies in the North Carolina heat. The Rigger shed isn't air conditioned- it resembles a warehouse more than anything else. Hurricane Dennis has kicked up more moisture in an already too humid summer. We continue to sit let the camo facepaint drip off our faces onto the cement floor.
"I'm sure I'll be haulin' ass off the DZ, as long as I don't bust anythin'." Corporal 'Fox' stopped for a second. "Well, suppose I would be if I didn't have some fuckin' Cherry along with me."
I look over at the enlisted man next to me, crack a smile out of the side of my mouth, and raise the middle finger of my left hand. Corporal Fox smirks back. I'm still getting to know the soldiers of my unit, but I think we'll do just fine. Harrassing the new Lieutenant is a fun game everyone gets to play. I usually just laugh too.
A 'Cherry' in an Airborne unit is someone who hasn't jumped (made his/her sixth jump overall) since Airborne School. For the past several weeks I have been called this by my esteemed fellow Lieutenants, and even by some of the more experienced and outspoken NCOs, but no longer. Today was the first time I have thrown myself out of a high performance, low flying aircraft in over three years. I'll admit that I was nervous, but in the end I had an awesome exit from the aircraft (essential to a good jump), and suffered little damage on the landing. I fared much better than one of the guys in my unit, who ended up fracturing his pelvis. If nothing else, it's a reminder that this is a hazardous (but damn fun) business. I love the fact that I get paid to do this kind of stuff.
