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Malta
2004
Once again Alan Ash and myself
found ourselves travelling to the beautiful Island of Malta for a Close
Protection course. This time we took with us a group of potential CPOs
from England who were all applying to different companies for work in
Iraq. Some had military experience. A few had combat experience, all had
security experience in one form or another. This course was different from
previous ones. All the training was to be aggressive combat body guard
training to give the students an insight into the brutal workings of the
Iraqi terrorist..

The course takes advantage
of a short break
The students had a day in which
to sort themselves out and acclimatise to Malta and then the training
started in earnest. We used for the training area a derelict hotel which
we had used before and the surrounding grounds. With the hot weather,
rocky terrain and derelict building we had the ideal Iraqi scenario.

Goza
First day was spent refreshing
military skills which did not take too long as all the students were
raring to get stuck in to the training. It took very little time for the
group to start working together. That evening was spent looking at the
Island and visiting many of the local bars. A good time was had by all
although the evening ended early due to a mixture of jet lag and fatigue.

Advance to contact
Up for breakfast and the team
travelled back to the training area. This time they were introduced to
basic CPO skills and in particular walking drills. Just as they were
getting confident they were taken onto embussing and debussing drills
which required eyes in the back of your head when faced with a principle
who does not want a bodyguard team and resents you being there. Its hard
to believe that someone who's life you are trying to prolong does not take
the threat seriously and gos out of his way to give the team a hard time
however they do exist and the bodyguard has got to be aware and ready for
them.

Anti-Ambush drills
On one scenario, Simon ,the
youngest on the course was acting as Bodyguard to the principle. One car
was disabled in the attack and as the back up vehicle pulled alongside to
effect a rescue it to was disabled. Shouting "I have a door, I have a
door" He propelled the principle towards the open door of a nearby
building. Two of the team went into the door before them to clear the
room. The rest of the team closed in behind using their bodies to shield
the BG and principle while putting down covering fire with their Glock
17s.. Inside the building the team started to take casualties from a
determined enemy supplied by some of our Maltes friends. The team had
almost gained the safety of the last room when a training grenade rolled
across the floor towards them. Two of the team reacting well to the
scenario yelled "Grenade" and threw themselves onto the BG and
principle. Unfortunately one of them being a Scots Guardsman and both
being the biggest blokes on the course they succeeded in crushing the very
people they were trying to protect. After the grenade had gone off they
got up but as they started to breath again another grenade was thrown in.
The reaction was repeated although this time the victims had to be peeled
from the floor. We were getting more casualties from the protection part
then we were from the enemy. Shit happens.
Clearing the route for
vehicles
The students took it in turns
changing their positions in the roll playing so they all had a chance to
experience each position in the team and what difficulties they would
experience. No one wants surprises when you do the real thing. Classroom
work followed with lessons on Threat assessment, voice procedure and all
the boring stuff that a good COP needs to survive in the trade. A few
beers and a meal out finished the day leaving all the students thinking
back over the days activities. A converted quarry was the venue for the
combat shotgun and small arms training. This was the first time many of
the group had fired the shotgun and we specifically wanted them to see the
damage such a weapon could do at close quarters to a vehicle.

Mobile patrol skills
They played out ambush and anti
ambush scenarios firing at a vehicle from the position of an ambusher on
the ground and then as a CPO firing from the back of a truck. By the end
of the day the weapons handling was vastly improved as was the
shooting. Very few targets were being missed and the target car was
slowly disintegrating..
Presentation in the
British Legion with Sir Anthony Hayes
By the end of the week
the students were conversant with convoy drills and vehicle ambush
techniques. A slide show of some gory photos from Iraq was the highlight
of one evening which left no body in a hurry to go out for a meal.. All
too soon the course came to an end. The last day was spent sight seeing
and buying presents for the folks back home. The end of course buffet was
held in the British Legion hall in Velletta with Sir Anthony Hayes and his
good lady wife presenting the certificates. Sir Anthony praised the team
and wished them luck for the future. We were fortunate enough to have a
senior officer of the Maltese defence force and his Security advisor
present at the presentation. This may lead to work for the team in the
near future.

Shotgun handling

Preparing a target car

Deliberate shoot
Taking the fight to the
enemy
Thailand
and Cambodia 2004
by Robin Talbott
http://www.worldextremities.org/index.html
I know you all
have been waiting for my story to appear on my website. Sorry for the
delay. It seems that my return needed a much needed soul search in
order to put the journey into prospective and into words.
As most of you know, I gathered up prosthetics and went on a journey to
Thailand and Cambodia with Jason Snailham and the Pathfinders. On October
21st, I flew out on a journey to the other side of the world and to
another world in it's self. We began military training with parachutes,
training tower with the Thai army and met up with other pathfinders there.
Bangkok was interesting; we saw a number of interesting parts of the city
from the filthy poor to homes surrounding the palaces. The roads there and
the driving was absolutely crazy
and the sound of horns were constant and steady.
The training went on for a couple days; we wore military uniforms, boots,
hats and jackets in about 100-degree weather with 100% humidity. Was
tedious to say the least, but yet the surroundings of the gorgeous foliage
and the sounds of birds unlike ours here in the states seemed someone
pleasant. While there, the main things we had to remember was to
watch for Cobras, mosquitoes, and remember that they drive on the other
side of the road from what they do here in the states. So, when
crossing the road on foot, you look in the opposite
direction for the on coming cars, not like I did and almost got hit by all
the on coming traffic. Whew, close call.
I don't think the Thai Special Forces could have been any more hospitable
to us. We had two sections of training. I decided to choose the static
line since I have never done static line and after the training, probably
never will actually do it from a flight vessel. I like free fall way too
much to give it up even for one jump. Also as most of you already know, I
am an amputee skydiver. So this is why this trip has gone forward and was
a must to become a very successful trip.
On to Cambodia. We arrived and checked in to our hotel. No one carries
toilette paper by the way, you must have your own, shake it dry or use a
water hose or pan to dip into the water hole they have next to the
toilette, hole or wherever they have appointed a place to potty to wash
yourself and then dare pull your britches up on the wetness. Eeeewwwwwyyy.
Once in
Cambodia, Phnom Penh, we checked into our hotel and was picked up by an
officer of the Royal Cambodian Special Force 911 team and taken to Kambol
Camp where we met up with some of the airborne troops. We talked for a
short while, looked around at their packing hanger, and studied the
dropzone and their thousand obstacles we had to avoid during our next day
skydive. On to their
open pavilion to observe where we would eat the next day. Oh, there is a
beautiful beige ox tied up. I think I'll head over and pet him. How sweet
and what beautiful eyes. Then I heard "sure Robin just pet your
dinner before you eat em" "yeah right"! After a long and
much hotter and humid day in comparison to the almost unbearable heat in
Thailand, off we went to our hotel. We rented a boy with a
motorcycle. Looking down the streets you wonder, would I be safer to ride
with one of these guys to the money transfer station or walk... really, it
was safer to ride. I don't know how cause there didn't seem to be any
rules on the road. There were not very many cars but thousands of these
motorcycles and some carrying families of 5. Some had 50 live ducks in
their baskets.
While some
were quacking if they were lucky enough to be the first ones in the
baskets tied by their feet. Others weren't so lucky if they were to
be part of the over flow, their quacks became more and more faint until
they actually hung over the sides beating their selves literally to death
with the road. I am so glad that we weren't witnesses to what happens to
the overflow of people hanging on for dear life to the sides, front, top
and backs of trucks and vans. So we dared, we got on the back after
looking over the driver to see if his body parts were still intact and how
many scars his body contained. it kind of told us the story of how good a
driver he was. "Ah ha, nice skin, I'll take this one!" We hired
the drivers for the day then shopping for more uniform
items. We ate at a tourist (mostly Europeans) restaurant on the bank of
the river where I got my first eyes view of just how many amputees,
homeless and beggars there were. Man I don't think I have ever seen so
many amputees and deformed people on one block in my life. Not just one
limb, but MANY with two, three and even four. As they approached us asking
for handouts, I showed them my leg and they backed off watching me
curiously and with smiles breaking on their
faces.
We bought
books from a double lower limb amputee and then as I turned to go back up
to the balcony of the restaurant. we were face to face with
another double arm amputee selling books. I thought this was a great thing
that they weren't begging, rather they were selling something for their
living.
I bought a book from him and
observed the use of his stumps to pick the books and even exchange the
money we gave. The books they were selling were all books about the Khmar
Rouge regime, Killing fields, and children of the mines and such.
Years and years of killing in one way or another have without a doubt
devastated their country. People are still stepping on mines left and
trying to pick up the pieces of over two million of their people who were
ordered slaughtered by the regime, families who were torn apart, drove
them from their homes to work in forced labour camps, and executed
captives in front of children, children were beat and killed, babies
ripped from their mothers arms and murdered and if the mothers cried out,
they were killed too. People were tortured beyond our comprehension and
innocence was taken from children and brutal dismemberment took place. The
khmar Rouge began their horrible control by taking all persons in power,
doctor's teachers, workers and any one of any intellect what so ever and
ordered them murdered. The hope and spirit of these people became only the
hope for Kmar Rouge revolution dependent on the children to obtain. It was
these Children's faces we saw in Cambodia those days of our visit and is
now the
faces of the young men and woman left to pick up the pieces. The Viet Nam
war was also going on during many of these years and land mines were left
by many countries involved in that war. These mines left are still blowing
up two people on an average per day! SOMETHING MORE NEEDS TO BE DONE TO
HELP THESE PEOPLE
RESTORE THEIR LIVES!
Jump day! Our special force courtesy shuttle arrived early to take
us to their base where we would jump from a donated Russian helicopter.
The clouds hung very low and the winds were strangely blowing with gusts
to a dead almost eerie calm. Of course we were grounded until
something opened. As I sat and talked with many of the soldiers and
told of my amputation and my skydiving, word spread and before I knew it I
was surrounded by dozens of curious on lookers asking many questions
through an interpreter. I was then approached by the free fall
instructor "master" who said with a huge smile on his face as he
puffed out his proud chest stating who he was and that he has 29 free fall
jumps. I thought "oh, my God, this is scary". I guess they
have to start somewhere. This is also the purpose of the Pathfinders, to
take donated parachutes to them, teach them skydiving in areas of both
static line and free fall, packing, repairing and teaching skills.
How much can they learn twice a year for a couple days each visit?
The sky opened, the wind died down and now a load of static were up and
under canopy. Ooops they landed in the rice paddies but all came
back proud that they did their PLF and evidence shows on their sides and
mud marked their points of impact.
Now it was the static and free fallers turn. The helicopter was
loaded. It was amazing they could get it off the ground, but surprisingly
it did. Jason Snailham pointed to the back at all the little eyes peaking
out and smiling at me. He stated that they were there to watch me jump
out. Seemed to be an amazing thing for a woman to free-fall. Never
heard of there and also that I was an amputee and could do it. They all
wanted to see this. Oh, boy, the pressures on. I must have a great
skydive, not land in the mines, or paddy fields, oh, and let's not forget
the thousand obstacles including all the flag poles with very sharp points
at the tops. As I got ready to exit the helicopter, the kids
came rushing out of their hiding places towards the door, My heart raced
as I wondered how many of these precious faces were going to fall out with
me. I motioned for them to all get back and the only way I could
communicate with them in the few moments I had was to give them a mean
face and a hand motion to stay back. They obeyed and Thank God for that!
Now I am out and under canopy, I am looking for my landing area and spot
every place I am not to land at first. No, not there, left turn. The
wind took me and threw me to the right and
collapsed two of my cells, quick back to the left and inflated my cells.
OK, all is good. I was so adamant about having a good landing cause
all eyes were on me. The television news reporters and cameras were
there too and as a woman free faller, amputee and as a special guest of
the Pathfinders and Royal Cambodian Special Force 911 group, I had to have
a smooth, stand up landing without incident. I did! Yeah!
I did!
We celebrated, had an award
ceremony, and drank with these wonderful sweet people. Let's not
forget the ox. The had a couple men rotating it's carcass over an open
fire. Tasted pretty delicious actually. What I couldn't eat and meant no
disrespect for was the duck soup. Not the meat of the body, but the whole
head in the centre of my bowl. Couldn't do it.
Got my wings there that day, a
certificate of skydive and was called
Airborne Sister. This was my ticket for World Extremities to feel safe
about bringing in prosthetics. What an honour to be in the presence
of these fantastic loving people.
I
spent some time in the following days, visiting places with the
Pathfinders even though we broke the group apart. Some of the
superiors had more work to do and I was ready to go and do what I came
for. Making my contacts with the rehab centers. We flew to Siem
Reap, went to Anchor Watt, saw the 5000-year-old ruins. Visited the
mine hutches called museum, saw thousands of mines (not active). Along the
miles of roads leading to the mine museum were blocked off
with rope and signs of cross bones warning of live mines just 25 feet from
where the dirt road was on both sides.
We visited the handicap international run by Belgium and governed by
Australia. Made my contacts there, visited with the amputees and
also polio victims. I held a 5-month-old badly deformed by polio.
Observed their make shift wheel chairs and crutches, their hammocks and
military medical stretchers they slept on, holes to potty in (can't see
how they do it when most don't have legs. The rehab centre for Cambodia is
"state of the art" for them. I promised them that day that
I would deliver and keep delivering as long as I live the much-needed
prosthetics.
I came home and found that through
Dana Bowman, he is willing to donate the two warehouses he has of
prosthetics if I can supply the shipment. What a great thing and
now, I must fund raise for my return trip in March to make good on my
promise to deliver.
The Pieces of Eight are willing to
make a trip this June or July to do a
skydiving demonstration for fund raising for World Extremities. This
is now in the works.
My experience was life changing, heart breaking, and heart warming,
I have special thanks to the following people who made this journey with
me. I couldn't have done it without them. First and foremost: Jason
Snailham (friend, fellow skydiver, and Pathfinder from the UK, static and
free fall). Ean (pathfinder, static and free fall). Rocky Frie
(United States Pathfinder, static). Bill (United States Pathfinder,
static). Wayne (UK Pathfinder, static). Wayne's beautiful sweet wife Nina
(Bangkok Thailand, completed tower training static). Nina's sweet
and beautiful sister Ploy (Bangkok Thailand, completed tower training
static). Russell (United States Pathfinder static and made first
free fall in Cambodia congratulations!). Sum (Singapore Pathfinder,
static). Maamar (Hong Kong Pathfinder and backbone.
Static, free fall) his lovely tiny smile faced girlfriend Som, Thailand,
completed tower training static) and the Special Forces of Thailand and
Cambodia. And many thanks to the residence of both places for
changing my life forever!
Thank you all!
Robin Talbott
Arnhem
2004
Parachuting: By
Al Murray

Before I
jumped onto Ginkel Heath I had not parachuted before. I had always wanted
to my father had been a parachutist in the TA, and I have clear
memories of being about 5 and going to see him jump from a balloon and
being yelled at when I tried to pick up his reserve by its red pull
handle. Parachuting probably strikes most people as a dangerous thing to
do. The utterly worn out joke: why jump out of a perfectly good aircraft?
only gets repeated endlessly because its got such an air of truth to it, a
friend of mine who's a pilot said this every time I mentioned the jump
[which was, ill confess, pretty often].
But Ive always
wanted to parachute at university I was all set to do a jump for
charity but broke my arm falling down nothing so dangerous as some stairs
at a railway station [the stairs had been well lubricated by several
pints of lager if you see what I mean] . So it never happened and
getting round to it was always going to be unlikely. I've read a great
deal about parachuting, and about the esprit de corps that it engendered
in the men who fought in the wars airborne armies. However, jumping out of
an aeroplane seemed a strange way to find out if what Id read was true.
But when the opportunity to jump with the Pathfinder Group on the 60th
anniversary came up, well, I cant say I jumped at the chance because that
would be a bad joke, but it seemed too good to pass up.
As the Road to
Berlin has as its central strand the idea that I would try to get as close
as I could to the notion of ordinary men doing extraordinary things the
perfect accompaniment to the programme about Arnhem was obviously a
parachute jump; and parachuting counts for most people a an extraordinary
thing to do. The Airborne mystique, that lies at the heart of the Arnhem
story was really only something I could properly investigate by
parachuting. I've ridden in tanks, waded ashore from a landing craft,
fired a flamethrower and sat in a Spitfire, but the parachuting was to be
by far the most intense of these so called stunts. When we discovered the
Pathfinders, we couldn't believe our luck. The Pathfinder Group have
decided to keep the techniques used by the British in World War Two alive,
in commemoration and also, I suspect, because they admire the men who
fought as airborne soldiers even more than I do. For the programme this
was a fantastic stunt, the only problem was I would have to learn how to
parachute
The plan was
to go for two days training at Texel Parachute Centre in northern Holland
and qualify for my Dutch wings [which does sound like something rude now I
think about it, but that's just the way my mind can turn over] . We
had to fit this into our filming schedule and we were to film the
training, which made things not exactly awkward, but cameras can sometimes
make situations seem not as real as thy could be the camera can become the
situation rather than, say, the lesson about how to open your reserve
chute in the time you have left to you as you hurtle towards the ground.
I had to fit pieces to camera into the day, and it made some of the other
trainees quite self conscious, but in the end, things were too serious to
let the camera get in the way of things.
When our group
sat in the Antonov , Ian Marshall, our instructor, told us that we weren't
going to get into the aeroplane unless we were going to jump out. And that's
what lies at the heart of parachuting, you have to have made the decision
to jump out of the plane long before you even put a chute on. And I
suspect that I made the decision to jump out of the plane months, if not
years, before it came to my turn at the door in the Dakota.
Training at
Texel was pretty straightforward. Apart from the afternoon lecture
about the terrible things that could happen to the chute, getting a mae
west, a line over, a 643tg streamer, the static line being shredded by
flak damage [!] and the parachute simply not opening, Ian treated me as
though I wasn't an idiot, but he didn't expect me to get it right away.
The thing about Ian is he's the statistics seven and a half thousand
jumps, he's pulled the reserve 65 times, so when he says that a twist in
your rigging lines may look bad but it isn't a malfunction, you really
have to believe him. Not that he'd been with me on the way down
Parachuting
with a round chute a PX1 Mk4, reassuringly the most reliable chute in the
world is pretty much as basic as it can be. As an introduction to
parachuting it had a certain purity, just as the way my arse feels now
also has a certain purity [more on that later] . In the end the weather
let us down, at Texel we had lots of great dramatic skies to film, which
look good and foreboding in the programme, but the upshot was I didn't get
my five practice jumps though I did pass, and Ian deemed me competent to
jump on the Saturday.
The training boiled
down to a series of drills drills that I felt I really ought to get
to grips with. They spun round and round in my mind, the three mornings
before the jump I woke up at five o'clock reciting one thousand two
thousand three thousand four thousand check parachute over and over. This
lack of sleep has translated into beautiful bags under my eyes for the
programme about Arnhem, but the obsession I developed about the drills
meant that when it came to learning how to parachute it seemed eminently
sensible. One of lads favourite refrains was that the parachute doesn't
know you're an idiot, it doesn't know you're trying to kill yourself and
it made his point quite neatly [he should keep it in the act].
Jumping from the Dakota on
a static line although it requires what seems like a huge act of
individual will is actually about surrendering yourself to the kit, to the
drill and to physics. If they all do their part you don't have to think or
decide at all. You've decided to jump ages ago, if you get the drills
right you'll make a clean exit, the chute will open nice and cleanly and
you just have to keep your feet and knees together, elbows in tucked in,
chin on chest and that should be that. When I jumped I felt attached to
the plane via the static line, then attached to the sky by the parachute
and then attached to the ground by my backside; there was never a moment
when I felt as though I was unsupported.
Pathfinders, who had every
reason to be suspicious of me, after all, a comedian? Why would he want to
do this? But the first night in the pub near Texel involved a warm
welcome, a few pints and something else dark and noxious in shot form,
and videos of the
drops they did at Ranville in Normandy this year for the D-Day anniversary
in June, with everyone jeering at the shabby exits some of the group had
made [young Rory in particular]. But watching the video made it all seem
very possible the film of everyone in the plane was just as I had imagined
everyone keyed up ready to go, but no great drama, no great scene, besides
the otherwise incredible scene of everyone jumping out of the door and
floating to earth.
Ian had told me that
the descent would take about a minute but that it would seem far
less. He wasn't wrong. Even now I don't know if iv taken in the
experience properly. If anything what happened was simply a set of drills.
I went out of the door with commitment as recommended I don't know where I
was looking. Some people had said to look at the horizon, others said that
looking back into the plane would help, but I'm not even sure that I even
looked anywhere. Emplaning had been simple enough, the Dakota pulled up
and we got on. I was 12th in the second stick, Bruce Cox wanted to jump
number 13 and who was I to argue? The flight was enhanced shall we say by
lads line in terrible jokes. Before the jump Jason Snailham who was also
on hand to truss me up in my harness like a eunuch with a bondage fetish
had told me that it was show time, and in many ways it was; before a show
the last thing I want is someone in my face cracking lame ones. I know why
he was doing it, but it was fucking annoying! Before a show I like time on
my own with me myself and my thoughts, or whatever I want to do. And what
I wanted to do was look out of the window!!
When we got to Ginkle,
the second stick stood up, hooked up, and all of a sudden they were
gone. It was all so matter of fact, though there were nervous
glances and sweating brows and then as I saw the chutes opening below the
plane and falling down towards the heath I was struck by the beauty of it
as they spread out across the heather the green parachutes were a
breathtaking sight, a sight that I had only ever imagined seeing.
This was what
was exciting me far more than the notion that I would be jumping out soon.
Then we stood up, hooked up and shouted out checks down the stick. I heard
myself shouting, number 12 OK and the call run down to the front of the
plane. Then suddenly it was Go! Go! Go! GO we shuffled forward,
automatically, looking at nothing but the guy in front of mes head if
anything at all, holding tight to toggle on the static line. I wish I
could say that my heart was pounding, but I was utterly focused on getting
out of the door neatly. Go! Go! Go! Go I wasn't counting how many had gone
but before I knew it in fact I don't even know if I knew it, I
was there at the door and Go! I was gone. Concentration. I was focused
entirely on my drills, nothing else. I bellowed the count to four, and
looked up. The chute was there but I had twists I yelled Twists and
pulled them out, checked the canopy and all was fine. I looked around me
to see if I would collide with anyone, was in the clear, and surprised my
speed of descent. The air current was making me drift to the left, so I
corrected, yanking hard to the right. This steadied me and I seemed to be
heading straight down. Looking back I wish I'd had a little longer to get
to grips with the chute as I descended, and read more of what was
happening wind-wise, but it was my first jump, and we only left the plane
at a thousand feet so I suppose I'm excused.
Once I thought
I was sorted and on the way down I began to recite my mantra feet and
knees together. In an exchange of texts with my dad, while waiting to
emplane, his main advice, and the advice of paras of every vintage who I'd
been chatting to at the bridge at Arnhem the night before, had all centred
around this one thing feet and knees together. One para had
recommended chanting something on the way down so as not to anticipate the
ground coming up, and feet and knees together seemed eminently sensible.
Someone on the ground was shouting it up to us as we sailed down. I looked
around and the sensation of flight began to give way to one of
descent not too rapid but rapid enough. I kept chanting, but missed
the cross wind, or at least misread the direction I was heading in as I
fell. With feet and knees together I landed I felt no shock in my
legs, but the wind caught the chute in precisely the direction I wasn't
expecting and pulled me wham! down onto my backside. It fell like being
kicked in the arse by a boot with a steel toe cap. Then as I lay somewhat
confused the chute inflated and began to drag me along this went on for
what must have been 2 seconds but it felt like an eternity. Cursing, my
knuckles grazed by the heather, I managed to deflate the chute, get up,
run around and begin to pack it up
Already I
could hear the cries of medic coming from where the two guys who had
jumped ahead and behind me had landed. I was so stunned by what had
happened, the jump itself, and bewildered by the landing, and seeing that
medical help was on its way, I thought it best to get to the RV,
especially as a camera had turned up to film my reaction to having landed
like a sack of shit. It has to be said the drop was so quick, the landing
so unceremonious, my concentration on my drill so intense that the whole
thing had been like a dream, the fact that there was now a camera in my
face didn't help. And what I really didn't want was film of anyone injured
So i did jumping at Ginkle
Heath help to me understand how it was for those lads back in 1944? It's
hard to say frankly maybe I need to do it again to get a proper
appreciation of it. Some of the guys jumping with me suggested that it
would ruin parachuting for me, that nothing could follow jumping into Ginkle
Heath, 60 years later, with a veteran behind me in the stick, from a
Dakota.
Certainly, if you wanted to experience parachuting 1st or 6th
Airborne style, you couldn't draw up a better wish list. What I did
learn is how intense their training must have been, how a jump together
would get the men pumped up, would give them a common bond. Having worn a
chute
very similar to
the one they dropped with you get a sense though only fleeting of how
heavily laden they would have been as they jumped behind enemy lines, and
of how although parachuting is, in essence, a mechanical process, it
requires everything from the individual self discipline and will power. I
don't know if I possess either of these in any great measure, but there's
no doubt when you read the history of the Battle of Arnhem, that that's
exactly what the men brought with them when they stepped out the door of
perfectly good aeroplanes that weekend in mid-September.
Al Murray
,Actor and Comedian, jumped with Pathfinder at Arnhem this year whilst
filming an episode of "The Road to Berlin" a TV series
documenting major events of WW2. This episode dealt with the Arnhem drop
and the difficulties facing the Paratroopers
_______________________________________________
Operation
MARKET 2004
John
Frost Bridge in Arnhem
September 16th
2004, 60 years after the start of Operation Market Garden, the operation
with the goal to end the war by Christmas 1944. A lonely Dakota takes off
from Soesterberg Air Force base in Holland and sets off on a south-eastern
course. It's destination: the John Frost Bridge in Arnhem. On board Para’s
of Pathfinder all dressed in 1944 Parachute Regiment uniform.

This
bridge was the last of 7 bridges that had to be captured in 1944.
Unfortunately this bridge could not be captured and held until the ground
forces arrived. One of the reasons, which led to this, was that the drop
zones for the para's were almost 12 kilometres away from the bridge. On
this day in September 2004 the John Frost Bridge was officially reopened
after being renovated. Part of the events of that day was a parade of
veterans crossing the bridge from the Northern to the Southern bank of the
river Rhine. One of the highlights of this special day was the parachute
drop that Pathfinder was going to perform. All Para’s were to drop over
the John Frost bridge and land in the field next to the bridge. A static
line, round canopy, jump at this location had never been done before. All
Para’s onboard the Dakota were well aware that seeing Para’s landing
next to the bridge might be emotional for the veterans. This because
landing close to the bridge is what should have been done 1944.
Around
12.00 hours local time the Dakota arrived at the John Frost Bridge. In
four runs all Para's were dispatched over the John Frost Bridge. The drop
zone was only 400 x 150 meters big and bordered by

the
bridge, trees, houses and the river Rhine. Everyone landed on the DZ, no
injuries. I dare to say, Pathfinders finest hour in it's 10 years of
existence. Thousands of spectators watched a perfect parachute display.
Pathfinder
wishes to thank the following to make this jump possible:
-
Survival Equipment Services for the equipment and good advice
-
Robert van Essen for some splendid flying
-
(Dutch) Royal Marines, Amphibious Support Battalion for the loan of life
jackets
-
Airborne Commemoration Committee (Arnhem) for the transport.
Brord

Arnhem
2004 manifest.
Those that took part in the Dutch basic para course and Arnhem drops.
Sgt Bruce
Cox
UK/Canada 1st Bn Parachute Regiment
Sgt
Roy Mobsby
UK
Parachute Regiment
WO2
Roland Rehill
UK
Parachute Regiment
Rikki Jenkins
UK
Parachute Regiment
Peter Parker
UK
Parachute Regiment
WO2
Steve Jennings
UK
2nd Bn Parachute Regiment
Pte
Ian Marshall
UK
2nd Bn Parachute Regiment
Sgt
Dave Mote
UK 2nd
Bn Parachute Regiment
Patrick Villiers
UK
3rd Bn Parachute Regiment
Lt
Geoff Seddon
UK 4th
Bn Parachute Regiment
Pte
Ian Currah
UK
4th Bn Parachute Regiment
Lt
Tony Clarke
UK
10th Bn Parachute Regiment
Les Harris-Ward
UK
10th Bn Parachute Regiment
Wayne Monkman
UK
10th Bn Parachute Regiment
Capt
Robin Macalpine-Downie
UK
10th Bn Parachute Regiment
Jim Kirkbride
UK
10th Bn Parachute Regiment
Bill Phillips
UK
10th Bn Parachute Regiment
Michael Slim
UK
10th Bn Parachute Regiment
SQMS
Pete Ward UK
10th Bn Parachute Regiment
Pte
John Barker
UK 10th
Bn Parachute Regiment
Cpl
Graham Anstee
UK
10th Bn Parachute Regiment
Terry Crawley
UK
10th Bn Parachute Regiment
Capt
Ian Hall
UK 10th
Bn Parachute Regiment
Pat Sands UK 10th
Bn Parachute Regiment
Pte Simon
Whitworth
UK
144 Para Fld Amb.
Dvr
Satbir Parmer
UK Royal
Logistic Corp
Sgt
Nigel Brewin
UK Royal
Signals Regiment
Cpl
David McDonald UK
Royal Signals Regiment
Sgt
Terry Bark
UK Royal
Engineers
Spr
Paul Brindley UK
Royal Engineers
Cfn
Richard Lowry
UK REME
Cfn
Bob Ellis
UK REME
Para
Steve George
UK
Royal Regiment of Wales
Kevin
Williams UK/Canada 12/13
Bn Parachute Regiment
Dave
Goodwin
UK
RAF Regiment
Ian
Martindale
UK
Pathfinder UK
Robert Si'Ree
UK
Pathfinder UK
WO2 Mark
Roberts UK
ACF Inst
Marcus Randell
UK
Airborne reanactor
Jason Snailham
UK Pathfinder
UK Jumpmaster
Sam Afful-Logotse
UK
London Youth Group
Marc Hoedeman
Holland Princess Irene Brigade
Robert Van Essen
Holland Pilot
Brord
Van der Maat Holland
Pathfinder Holland Jumpmaster
Arjan Wolters
Holland Pathfinder Holland
Jumpmaster
Ron Visser
Holland Pathfinder Holland Jumpmaster
Jacco Storsbergen
Holland
Jason Hindson Canada
Lawrence Holsworth Canada
Lcpl
Dave Sewell
Canada Royal Green Jackets
(V)
Cst
Mark Lundie Canada
RCMP
Cst
Rob Pearson
Canada RCMP
Cst
Tony Speiss Canada
RCMP
Anthony Modena South
Africa
SJ Van Rensburg South
Africa SA Airborne
Pte
Shaun Winkler
South Africa SA Airborne
Padre
Andrew Lansdell South
Africa SA Airborne
Andrew Leece South
Africa SA Airborne
Lt
Frede Korsack
Denmark Danish LRRP
Jimmy Christensen
Denmark Danish LRRP
Dave
Gordon USA
Airborne Reactor
Jason Street
USA
Military
Maj
Dave Accetta
USA
Army
WO1
Didier Louis
France French
Army
Lourens Janse Van Rensburg France
Hubert Achten
Belgium
Cpl
John Brewer RCMP
Canada
Capt.
Rodney Welbourn
Canada
Me
A.El-alaoui
S.Mrimou
J.Butler
A.Cowley
S.Willams
Y.Benelbaida
A.Uzmer
E.Phillips
DZ crew Tom Kandelaars, Ron Visser
and me Niels de Graaf .
This
is not the full list. If you see your not on here and you took part
either as DZ. crew or jumper contact the web master to be added. Roy
Mobsby
____________________________________________________

D-Day 60th
Anniversary: 1st Canadian Parachute Battalion
commemorative
jump
Lawrence Holsworth

|
A t
1800hrs (6pm) CET on Saturday the 5th of June 2004, I participated
in parachute drop from a WWII-era C-47 'Dakota' transport plane.
Our jump was
part of the official programme of activities to commemorate the 60th
Anniversary of D-Day, and especially the brave men of the airborne
forces – "the tip of the spear". To this end, we jumped
military style - all together one after the other, using
automatically deployed round-canopy parachutes from an altitude of
800 feet - no skydiver square parachutes for us. In fact, our
modern-manufactured parachutes were as close to the type used in the
war as its possible to get.
I, and my fellow
jumpers are members of The Pathfinder Parachute Group, a group of
military-trained parachutists (many of us are actually former
paratroopers) that specialises in conducting this type of
commemorative, historically-accurate parachute drops. |

|
Whilst the rest of my planeload
was dressed as WWII British paratroopers, I was wearing the uniform and
equipment of a soldier of the elite 1st Canadian Parachute Battalion (the
uniform and equipment were mostly modern reproductions by the way).
We jumped onto an area the
D-Day planners designated Drop Zone "N", just outside of
Ranville. Our jump was the first time this particular drop zone had been
used as such since 1944 - the area usually being used as fields for barley
and sugar snap peas.
The Drop
As a stick, we shuffled
towards the open port-side door of the aircraft... "NUMBER 1
JUMPER IN THE DOOR!"... "GO!!!" One by one we moved forward
and took up our position in the door, paused for 1/2 a second, then we'd
feel a slap on our left shoulder and the Dispatcher yelling
"GO!!!" in our ear. Number 1 out (Patrick, veteran of the Suez
campaign 1956), Number 2 out, Number 3 out, Number 4, Number 5 out (I'm
next!). Now I'm at the door, I push my static line towards the Dispatcher,
place my left hand on the left-side of the door frame and my right hand on
the right side, I slide my left foot forward to the edge of the sill - my
boot tip sticking out into the slip-stream - I look down and see the
ground moving - I look up and focus on the horizon. "GO!!" -
leap out and snap my legs together, press my elbows into my sides and tuck
my head down to the front. Loudly, I count through the exit and opening
drill "ONE THOUSAND" - I'm falling, carried along by the
slip-stream. "TWO THOUSAND" - I start to roll slightly forward
and to my left. "THREE THOUSAND" - I've rolled further forward
and see the tail of the aircraft passing overhead. "FOUR
THOUSAND" - I see the suspension lines play out and feel the firm tug
as the parachute opens and my descent is slowed. "CHECK CANOPY"
- I look up and make sure that my parachute is fully deployed and that
there are no holes or tears in it. It’s perfect. I can now relax for a
few seconds and enjoy the ride. What a feeling!

All too soon, I get down to
about 150-200 feet above the ground and I need to start preparing to land.
I check my direction and speed of drift, check for obstacles or hazards on
the ground - I'm drifting to my left-front at about 4-5 knots, I've
drifted over the road and I'm going to come down safe and sound in a field
of peas.
I make some final adjustments
to counter the speed at which I'm drifting - prepare to land - feet and
knees squeezed tightly together, legs bent slightly at the knee, soles of
feet level, twist my legs slightly to the right, check my rate of
descent... wait for it... thump! I contact the ground, quickly roll into a
left-front parachute landing fall, and that's it. I'm down - I'm okay -
and my parachute collapses. I get up quickly, gain my bearings, roll up my
parachute canopy and suspension lines, and jog off the drop zone to the
assembly point. I bag up the main parachute and harness, place the reserve
parachute on top of it and get signed in. That's it; jump over. The local
time now is about 18:10-18:15hrs.
As I was sitting by the side
of the road waiting for the rest of our jumpers to drop and come in, a
little French girl about 7or 8 years old came up to me with a notebook and
a pen. She smiled kind of shyly and held them out to me - it took me a
second to realise, she was asking me for my autograph! As I signed "Lawrence
Holsworth, 1st Canadian Parachute Battalion commemorated", I
notice that she's already collected the signatures of several other
jumpers. I was very touched by this sweet gesture.
Sunday, 06 June
Due to the severe security
precautions and road closures, I was unable to get to Juno Beach to
witness any of the official Canadian ceremonies. So instead, two of my
buddies and I went to the museum at Pegasus Bridge and got our jump log
entries for the day before stamped with the "Pegasus Memorial"
stamp. We also found a veteran of the Oxfordshire & Buckinghamshire
Light Infantry - the British glider troops who captured the bridge over
the Orne River - and he signed our logbooks for us.
| Later
that evening, I spotted a veteran of the 1st Canadian Parachute
Battalion entering the Cafe Gondreé next to the bridge. So of
course I had to go over and talk to him and ask him to sign my
logbook as well. His name is Walter Robard and he was a Signaller
with 1 Can. Para. Meeting him was completely unexpected, and was the
highlight of the entire weekend for me - especially when he shook my
hand, patted me on the back and thanked me for jumping in his
honour! |

|
 |
More information about
the history of 1 Canadian Parachute
Battalion, and their
actions in Normandy, can be found at: www.junobeach.org/e/4/can-tac-par-e.htm |
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___________________________________________________
|

|
ARNHEM
2004..THE
60TH Anniversary of the battle.
PATHFINDER
JUMPS INTO THE HISTORY BOOKS
|
I looked out of the DC3 Dakotas jump door and saw the most
beautiful sight. The John Frost Bridge two miles away and coming up
fast. Hardly any wind, blue skies, perfect conditions for a round
parachute decent onto one of the most famous battlefields in the history
of the Airborne forces. Twenty six members of Pathfinder stood hooked up
at action stations. Every jumper tensed and waiting for the order to go.
The fact that we were making history was not lost on our members. This
was the DZ that if used in 1944 and been used successfully, may have
shortened the war in Europe for anything up to a year.
The jumpmaster lay on the aircraft deck, half leaning out of the
door to get a better look at the DZ. He squirmed back into the aircraft
sheltering his mike from the slipstream and gave course corrections. The
aircraft dipped its right wing and moved a few degrees to starboard. I
glanced out of the door again and looked at the DZ. It looked like a
cricket pitch, not much bigger and stopped at the base of the girder
bridge now lined by thousands of spectators, many who were waiting for
us to overshoot and land in the river.
The day before , during the briefing my jumpmaster had said to me
that it might be an idea to bring the drop height down a bit in order to
get everyone safely onto the small DZ. Although it was within regulation
diameter, the slightest breeze could send us all into the river and
although we were all wearing life jackets I did not want anyone to end
up there least of all me. I had agreed but in the excitement of the
occasion I had forgotten this conversation. The details of the ground,
trees and buildings we were sweeping past in crystal clarity. The Number
two standing immediately behind me was staring past me at the Dutch
countryside streaming below at a fast rate of knots. Above the roar of
the aircrafts two engines he shouted in my ear. “ We are a bit low
Roy, are we doing a dummy run”. I turned to the jumpmaster and asked
the same question. “Bit low Ian?” He looked at me with that grin
that you expect only madmen to have. His reply” Yes, GO! caught me by
surprise but my drills took over and as I drove out into the slipstream
I remembered that grin. The slipstream hit me, or maybe I hit it, either
way my feet started to come up and then the static line jerked my body
forward as the rigging lines played out and the PX Mk 4 parachute
cleared the pack. The slipstream caught it and hurled it backwards away
from the aircraft and over my head. I don’t remember carrying out the
safety count but my experience was taking over the situation.
“Check canopy” I thought loudly to myself and there above me
was a fully inflated ,round, army green parachute. The same sight that
thousands upon thousands of Paratroopers before me had witnessed and
then let out that sigh of relief. I looked down and found Arnhem bridge
immediately to my front and about one hundred and fifty feet away. We
were bang on target. It could not have been more accurate if it had been
a bombing run. A brief though flashed through my mind. I was the first
paratrooper ever to see the bridge this close under a round parachute.
This had never been done before. It was a brief thought as I looked
around for the DZ smoke and realized I was facing the wrong way. Luckily
we had decided to jump PX Mk4’s that had been converted to steerables
by Pete and Del, our good friends and equipment sponsors from Survival
Equipment Services. These we had proved before worked perfectly and I
pulled the right toggle all the way down to initiate a turn inland. No
sooner had I completed the turn than the ground rushed up met me .I just
had time to adopt the PLF (Parachute landing position) and I was down.
I executed the normal landing roll that all paratroopers
experience and that bears no relation to the perfect position our PJIs
at Ringway, Abingdon or Brize Norton had taught us, feet, arse and head.
It knocked the wind out of me momentarily but I got to my feet with the
same stupid smile on my face that you expect from a first time jumper.
As the DZ party ran over I looked up in time to see the other five
jumpers in the stick land perfectly on the drop zone. As we rolled up
our chutes and made our way off the DZ to the RV point stick after stick
of jumpers repeated our actions and all landed safely without mishap.
We lined the road still wearing our parachute harness with the
chute piled on the floor in front of each parachutist. The aircraft came
around again but this time at a far greater height. The jumpmaster
exited the aircraft in free fall, our tribute to the jump masters and
Air Despatch teams that also took a major part in these missions. For a
second it looked like he was contemplating landing on the bridge but
then though better of it and swooped of to land on the DZ. As he passed
by the bridge I realized he had replaced his helmet with his Red Beret
whilst under canopy. Smart arse, that would cost him a round of beers.
For its final run the Dakota came in low down the river trailing red
smoke and climbed as it reached the bridge. A cheer went up from all
around. It was impressive.
With all jumpers and support party lining the route we waited for
the real heroes of the day, the veterans. Some came over on the back of
motorbikes, others in military vehicles as old as they are, a few, the
stubborn ones walked the full length of the bridge unaided. The Dutch
military had provided a couple of soldiers to help support each veteran
if he needed it. One gentleman, clearly in pain and in some distress
passed my position at the end of the bridge. Two Dutch soldiers who
dwarfed the chap, clearly large six foot Dutch men,
made to grab him as he stumbled. He shrugged them off and saw us.
There was a determination in his eyes as he regained his composure, held
his head up and marched past us to the rapturous applause from
Pathfinder members and the public. I looked at the people around me.
There was not a dry eye in the house. During the next two days
Pathfinder completed four more DC3 drops onto Ginkle Heath. Over one
hundred and sixty of our members jumped with over one hundred other
members and their families in support. Five were injured but have born
their injuries in true Airborne fashion. I am proud of the lot of you.
I left for Iraq the day after the Arnhem anniversary events were
over and did not get the chance to thank everyone.
I would like now, to take this opportunity to thank everyone who
took part in the events and those many behind the scenes who worked
tirelessly to make this happen. You are too numerous to mention but we
all know who you are. Lastly I would like to thank all the veterans who
set us such a high standard for us to follow. We in Pathfinder have
tried in the past and will try in the future to live up to your
standards. These are big boots to fill but we will do our best in true
Airborne fashion to spread the word and keep alive the Airborne
brotherhood.
Sgt
Roy Mobsby (5 Abn Bd retired)
Jump/Operations
Co-ordinator
Pathfinder
Parachute Group UK
Ed. Note. This account is from only one jump. Other jumpers from
the four other chalks are invited to write in their own experiences.
Ed. Note. I expressed my disappointment to one of the Arnhem
veterans. “Its a shame the 60th is the last official
anniversary event” I said. He looked at me with a stern glare as if I
had shit in his beret. “We will tell them when it’s the last one”
He said.
Standby
for the warning order for Arnhem 2005 I guess.
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