Steve stood in the door of the 61-year-old Dakota DC3 looking down on the Normandy countryside, the din of the powerful radial engines of the plane vibrated through him like he was part of the fuselage of the aluminium craft. The day was June 5^th 2004 and he was flying at 1000 feet and moving at 120 knots over Pegasus Bridge. Behind him were 13 other people whom he trusted with his life. They were all linked to the cable above their heads via their static line and wearing world war 2 parachutes, reserves and airborne attire right down to the boots on their feet, boots that would soon be where they were supposed to be, on terra firma!!

Two Dakotas wait quietly on the airfield

"Stand by!" yelled the dispatcher. Steve moved in front of the open door, left foot forward, right foot rear, hands gripping either side of the doorframe, the propeller wash was a warm rush of air that pulled at his body like a giant hand, below him the land looked like a map and above him the sky was a deep blue, he thought was staring at a picture. "GO!"

Pathfinder exit over DZ N Pegasus Bridge

A slap on the back and without a single hesitation Steve swung his right leg passed his left and was immediately sucked through the open door. The engine noise was deafening for a second and then the slipstream took him, laid him on his back and he slid into the warm cushion of air like being on a giant theme park slide. He began his training drills " one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand four one thousand, check canopy is round, check apex is in centre, check steering modifications are too the rear.. yes. thank god for that right where the hell am I?" All he could hear was the swish of the air around his chute and the creaking of his straps, he felt he was under a giant playground swing except he was now 800 feet in the air. Looking around he could see four other chutes above his head forming a yellow set of roses in the sky leading back to the now rapidly disappearing aircraft. The next part of his training now took over, orientation. He saw the smoke on the ground showing the direction of he wind, he pulled his right toggle and the chute turned towards the wind. He felt chutes decent rate slow as the wind as it inflated even more due to the wind current filling the giant jellyfish.

Go! Go! Go!

After 45 seconds of holding this position, the ground was fast approaching so he assumed the famous PLF position (parachute landing fall), ankles and knees tight together as if you were holding a playing card between them, knees slightly bent and feet turned 30 degrees either to the left or to the right. The ground was rushing now at 16 feet per second. Any second now, any second any second any second. WHAM!! The enormous impact of a PLF cannot be described unless you have experienced one. Steve collapsed like he had been pole axed into the thigh high corn field and lay on his back for a few seconds while he recovered his senses. Adrenaline and his training kicked in together and he was up and running round his chute in a four seconds. Quickly making his parachute pack he looked up to see his colleagues landing like giant petals around him.

Pathfinder chutes fill the sky

South African contingent from LAARSA

"Nice one mate" said the paratrooper to Steve; he didn't even see him approaching through the corn " You lot done good, we all thought you were the real thing, nice exits, wanna come to Arnhem?"

Steve drew breath and smiled, he began walking towards the DZ rendezvous point and it was only now that he allowed himself some self-congratulation about what they had all achieved since January

The Youth Group a short while after landing and still on an adrenalin high

Operation Pegasus bridge was an idea born in Sept 2003 when James Butler was a passenger flying in a light aircraft over Le Touquet in Northern France, he looked down at the beaches and thought that it would be a novel idea to celebrate the 60^th Anniversary of D-day with a parachute drop by some young people from the North Kensington area.

The team at Golborne youth centre discussed the idea and the concept of "Operation Pegasus Bridge" was born. The team of Ahmed EL Alaoui, Sam Afful-Logotse, Wayne Monkman (from Camelot events) and James Butler worked quickly to put the plan together. A parachute organisation called Pathfinder was approached to assist with the plans logistics and a costing was put together as to what it would actually cost to train, equip and transport a group of 20 young people from January to June and to enable them to parachute out over Pegasus Bridge on D-day.

As it would have been in 44

"Operation Pegasus Bridge" was a phenomenally ambitious project and would require some huge amount of planning but the right people were doing the right tasks and a costing was assembled. A group of 35 young people were recruited from North Kensington and in January, interviews set up. The underlying theme of the project was education; young people knew very little about the war and had vaguely heard of Hitler. Of the 35 young people interviewed, 20 were selected (all of whom were in some way at risk, either not in education or had been in trouble with the police). An entire World War 2 style camp was built in Dorking at "Camelot Events" (an outdoor activity centre) and the young people began training every other weekend in the blistering cold of January. They slept out in 7 degrees, were ambushed, kidnapped, drilled, marched, abused, and soaked, starved and generally beasted for two months. In March they stayed an complete week on camp and met who was to be their worst nightmare, some real paratroopers from Pathfinder who's task it was to get these young people in shape for the real deal.

By April, the group was down to 14 members and they had bonded into a cohesive unit. From April 3^rd, they would not see London for 4 weeks. The group stayed in camp for three straight weeks and then travelled to Northern Holland for parachute training with the Dutch .

 Each young person was to complete five jumps to gain their Dutch military wings. The jumps took place on the island of Ameland

All the young people qualified in Holland and returned to England as legitimate parachutists and not a single injury.

During May, the group trained in Dorking for one more week before setting off to France on June 2^nd. They arrived at Pegasus Bridge on the morning of June 3^rd and camped near Ranville. The group jumped successfully on June 5^th and are now all back in England having taken part in a historical event. The young people met the veterans from the original glider assault (Wally Parr, Jim wallwork and Denis Edwards) and this alone was an extraordinary occasion. By the time these meetings took place, the youths were so familiar with the exploits of these veterans through the education they had received that when they finally met them, it was like watching them meet their pop idols, there were yelps of excitement and within seconds each veteran was surrounded by chattering youths

Parachuting is a challenging activity and one that requires totally self-belief. The fact these young people have undertaken and achieved such an activity is itself a great merit to themselves. Each young person who took part in operation Pegasus Bridge now has an IDP (individual development plan) and is being worked with Amhed, James or Sam towards a goal. The young people who took part lives have permanently changed and they are wiling to accept new ideas and challenges. One of the young people said it is the only time they have ever given 100% to anything. Nine of the young people live in the area of covenant and will be approaching Campden charities for assistance with their plans. The young people are now all members of Pathfinder which means they can jump anywhere in the world where Pathfinder jump.

Pathfinder group, without knowing it, have just achieved the most powerful piece of intervention youth work I have ever witnessed in my 11 years of running youth programmes. This is a relationship that is going to run and run and that no-nonsense mental attitude that is so prevalent in UK airborne forces is now firmly entrenched in the youth service, goodbye PC, hello airborne, its green on!!

The next report will contain information on their progression.

James Butler

Senior worker, Golborne youth centre.

Monday, 05 July 2004

Ameland 2004 .by Ron Visser, Pathfinder Holland

Jumping With The PATHFINDERs!!!

A First-hand Account Of:

Pathfinder Basic Course 2004-1

24-29 April 2004

Ameland Island , The Netherlands

Class Photo

  American Contingent:

  Alfred J. Sciarrino, MAJ, JAG Corps, New York Guard, 2004

1LT, Signal Corps , US Army 1967-69 ( Korea )

Lawyer, Author, and Class Commander

Wearing a helmet older than all of us.

  David A. Accetta, MAJ, Field Artillery , US Army

Wiesbaden , Germany

Class XO, cigar fiend, and Aide to WO2 Jennings

Will Steve get the 173d jacket? We'll find out...

  James D. Barry, CPT, Infantry , US Army, 1985-1990

Yucaipa , California , USA

Needs 5 more to make 11.

Again, with the land mines...

Hon. Glen D. Gilmore, 1LT(Ret), Infantry,

New Jersey Army National Guard, 1981-1985

Mayor of Hamilton Twp., NJ

Bootless, but highly motivated

  Camron Cochran, MSgt , US Air Force,

Don't Mess With Texas , USA

Needs head glue for his helmet

  Daryl Pinto, SSG, Medical Corps, Special Forces

San Jose , California

Class Medic and Massage Therapist

Who needs "GO!"? Door's open, just go!

  Lawrence Holsworth, SGT , Infantry, 2/504PIR 82d Abn Div, 1982-86

Oxford , England , UK

Yank, Plastic Yank, Limey and all around good guy.

40 some odd jumps and counting

Al:

The individuals listed above all arrived at Ameland Island on or about 24 April, 2004 to begin a military parachutist course, under the auspices of the "Pathfinder" group. The objective is to take a ground course covering all aspects of safety procedures before embarking on a program delivering the opportunity for five military, static-line round parachute jumps. The second objective is to complete the five jumps safely, thereby securing the Pathfinder basic parachutist badge. In addition, the successful completion of 5 jumps using Dutch equipment and jumpmasters qualifies the individual in this program to earn the military parachute wings of the Netherlands . These can be worn on the uniform under the regulations of the military service of the nation to which the soldier is assigned.

DAY 0 - 24/4/2004

Jim:

It's been eight months since I tripped across the Pathfinder web site and found out about the club and the Dutch jump course which could qualify one to join and jump. Round chutes. "old school". Glen Gilmore and I hadn't jumped in the US Army since the 80s. We both talked about trying to qualify for foreign jump wings at some point. The years go by, and before you know it you're 40. Do it now or do it never.

So in 2004, after dozens and dozens of emails pestering Roy Mobsby and Steve Jennings (thanks guys!!) with logistical details, the day has come to leave sunny southern California (and it's newly elected governor Arnold Schwarzenegger) for some small island in the North Sea.

So the long flight from the USA to Schipol Airport, meet up with Glen, the train to Leeuwarden, night there, bus to Holwerd, and onto the ferry where we run into Camron Cochran. Short (but certainly not straight) boat ride to Ameland and we all meet up with Sgt Maj Steve Jennings and the Pathfinder crew, and some other course attendees.

See, in Holland , the shortest path between two points is not a straight line, it's where ever the channel under the water is dredged...

With us also are a dozen or so young men and women from London participating as well. They're off the boat now and lined up in a column like soldiers. In the distance, I hear one of the young ladies saying something... I can't make out the words, but she appears to be complaining about something. She needs help of some sort. Steve Jennings walks over to her. Like a good leader, I expect to see him help her with a correction or what have you... Take care of the soldiers... But no. He stares at her, smiles, and points his index finger up toward his own face to ensure she sees him smiling. And holds it there a moment as the message sinks in to the young jumper. Well, it appears those "Signals" soldiers have own language of signals of their own. This one means roughly: "You're talking at me as if I even care." MOVE OUT!!

As for us old farts, we pack ourselves into vans which Steve negotiated for and acquired quickly, we scoot over to the Recreatiepark Koudenberg. Like a huge industrial magnet, the local pub senses paratroopers within its own hand grenade blast radius. It begins pulling... pulling... We feel ourselves sliding... sliding... to what we don't know yet. The pull seems to be strongest at the pockets. The place where the colourfully coloured (sorry: "coloUrfully coloUred") pretty purple and orange Euros we exchanged for at rip-off rates at Schiphol are. Now I get it... Holland wants her money back and will give us a few beers for our trouble, in exchange. Guilders are in the "dust bin", so Euros will do for now.

Pub over here aka: 'Where all the money went.'

The "box". Ah yes, the box. The big, brown box. Full of bunks. With one and only one key that for a few days no one knows for sure who possesses. For the next few days, let's just call it "home". Only 20 paces from the pub. (Yes, I counted.) Pick a bunk, drop yer gear, and meet everyone. Not a dud in the bunch. A distinct pleasure and honour to meet my fellow students. Mostly Brits, but a few Dutch, and a small contingent of my fellow Americans. All here to strap on a bag of nylon and heave ourselves out of a rickety old Russian pig of an single-prop plane. But military style.

The Bunkhouse

Static lines, yelled out jumpmaster commands, glancing to the left of someone's legs and to the right of the JM's goggles to catch glimpses of the slowly moving tiny trees sliding outside the door and far below. The brotherhood of the airborne is ALWAYS most apparent at this stage of the ride. Brothers in expectation, brothers in line, brothers all concentrating on the same task at hand, brothers hooked up to the same aircraft, and brothers following each other out the door, and watching each others' chutes deploy and descend, kicking out line twists and so forth. And yes, sometimes brothers yelling at each other SLIP RIGHT, TOGGLE RIGHT, when the sensory overload almost keeps you from avoiding entanglement. I put down my beer and count the hours until I'm in the air with my brothers again. We're not jumping yet, but the anticipation is keeping me focused toward the goal of safe challenging jumps ahead.

The Pathfinder guys are pros. Steve, Terry, Nigel, and Ian. That's readily apparent and intuitively obvious within moments of meeting them.

Paul Mellers with l. to r.: Terry, Steve, Nigel, and Ian

My plan is to keep my ears open, eyes alert, mouth shut (when no beer is around), and ready to knock out a few pushups when Steve gets that 'point at my smiling face' look going again... Day #2 next!

Lawrence :

Lawrence Holsworth; Canadian, prior service Infantry Sergeant, 2nd Battalion, 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment. "The Tip of The Spear".

Three years ago, I met the Pathfinder group in Normandy when I was jumping at St. Mere Eglise with the US Airborne Demonstration Team and they were jumping at the Merville Battery. For me, that was the very first time I'd jumped since 1986. On that jump, I also watched one member of my stick burn in under a partial malfunction. Not good for the nerves.

However, when I saw that the Pathfinder group included a number of jumpers depicting 1 Canadian Parachute Battalion, I knew that one day -soon- I had to return. I knew I had to honour the brave men of my homeland who jumped into Normandy, suffered heavy losses and dispersion during the drop, but still achieved all of their objectives. The were for the Canadians "The Tip of The Spear".

It's taken me 3 years to get my kit together and get to get over to Holland for a jump course - but as this year is the 60th anniversary of D-Day, it had to be done.

Lawrence , with Steve and Major Dave

DAY 1 - 25/4/2004

Al:

Birds outside. Fog. A day of training. Nerves for the unexpected. Remember PLF, practice, practice, practice...

Jim:

Refresher on how to don the harness, and then for the rest of the day it's PLFs, emergency procedures, reserve drills, actions in the aircraft, exits, and canopy control. For those of us who've jumped before (even a loooong time before), this is pretty much all we need to fire up those brain cells and muscle memory. Benning School for Boys was a long time ago, but I'm amazed how quickly the information comes back. All that drilling. Like riding a bike. Hopefully it's like riding a bike. But between all that, we've got a lot of down time.

Those who've never jumped before are separated into their own group. They get almost no down time. From the beginning, by the numbers, especially PLFs. Over and over again. Good for them. They'll need it. Well all need it.

As for the aircraft, the AN-2 Colt Annie looks imposing. Looks like we can probably fit 5 or 6 jumpers on each side. The plane looks very old and I hear it originates from the red side of the iron curtain several decades ago. A small plastic bucket hangs from a short hook underneath the huge single prop engine, suspended there apparently to catch a pretty serious looking engine oil leak. Yeah. Super.

Annie

However, a bigger concern for me right now is finding out who's going to be packing the chutes. Rumour has it were packing our own, and rumour has it were jumping maybe twice tomorrow. So add those two rumours together, then throw in one more that its almost dusk and we haven't learned how to pack mains yet, and I start to get a little uneasy about it.

DAY 2 - 26/4/2004

Jim:

Two jumps this day. Not too windy at first. Chutes already packed, so the group straps them on, adjust each other's adjustable main lift web, JMPI, and before we know it, we're all lined up in 'sticks' getting ready to load the plane. 5 or 6 on each side of the aircraft, which makes about 10-12 jumpers total for each lumbering takeoff and landing of the monstrous "Annie" Colt AN-2 biplane.

Glen is advised that the DZO will not allow him to jump due to a weight restriction of 95kg which no one up until that point knew existed. Long story short, a search will begin for a larger chute. Looking at Glen, he's not what you'd think would be overweight. He's a fairly trim guy, but at 6'5" and 235 pounds, it's apparently a little too much for the chutes we're using. Several of us at 200 pounds are riding close to that line as well. More on that below

Despite the upper winds being tested on the dry pass, and despite the DZ being absolutely enormous for only 6 jumpers, those who exit on the first pass find that they're blown quite a bit to the west and quite a hike to return to the hangar. A few of the lighter jumpers get pushed all the way to the beach, doing hasty "water landings" in the swamp. (Ankle deep.) Those on the second pass all week, especially as it got windier and windier get a much better spot from Jan the jumpmaster. US Army Artillery Major Dave Accetta makes a comment to me later about always moving to the right side of the plane when loading so as to always get on that second pass. Yeah, good plan... Leave it to those artillerymen to really know how to apply the concept of adjusted indirect fire. Allow the other "shells" to hit the ground before correcting for our "fire for effect" jump.

Four, ready to get their knees in the breeze

As for the young men and women from the London group, they were always ever so eager to move to the door side as to get out of the plane more quickly. Either they hadn't yet learned how tough it is to 'spot' round canopy jumpers on a windy day, or they just didn't care. They just wanted "out". One bloke in particular told me later that while he's afraid of heights, his technique for throwing himself out the door is to convince himself that the plane is on fire. Ah, the ingenuity... Yeah, good plan...

So, there I am. Sitting on the floor in the cargo area of this beast of a flying machine, crunched in with all of the others, each of us with a wad of nylon strapped to our backs. They say the AN-2 is the largest single engine propeller-driven biplane in the world. Annie lumbers down the grass runway, heaving and bouncing. The aircraft leans upward, the bouncing suddenly stops, and we all start sliding on our rumps toward the closed door in the rear. Too cool.

We jump because there's no such thing as a 'perfectly good airplane'

Annie doesn't take that long at all to get to altitude, which it seems is going to be about 3,000 feet AGL. AGL doesn't really matter here on this island, because here, like most other places in the entire Netherlands , 3,000 feet AGL is about 2,999 feet above sea level.

Jan opens the door and instructs the left side stick to stand up, hook up, equipment check, and "First Jumper, stand in the door". Jan waits, waits, waits, then... GO! Door. GO! Door. GO! and so forth until he's leaning out a bit to check that all jumpers are clear and he drags the static lines and deployment bags back into the plane. Sitting on the deck with the door open, and Annie banking slowly left toward another pass, I can see out the door a few of the floating canopies in a line. Looks like the canopies are working fine.

Door shuts, and Jan the jumpmaster instructs our stick to stand up and move to the door side. We hook our static line clips to the cable, check our equipment, and get ready for the next jump run. Interesting feeling knowing that we are now in effect attached to the aircraft but for the weakest link being a two-inch strand of blue break cord connecting the chute's apex handle (which we take with us) to the deployment bag (the bit Jan and Annie get to keep). Anything stronger than that blue cord, and our exit would convert us into a human drag chute behind good ol' Annie, much like the advertisements dragged by Cessnas at the beach on a hot summer day.

DZ below. Close enough to the North Sea

Ok, now get this. So SSG Daryl Pinto is going to be our door man. Door opens, and Jan orders Daryl to "Stand in the door!" At which time Daryl blasts out the door as if being flushed down the toilet. Jan looks at the rest of us, shrugs his shoulders, says "O... K...", and orders jumper #2 to stand in the door. Once ready with the DZ spot, the other five of us take turns glimpsing out at the North Sea, ducking our heads through the five-foot tall opening, and executing a strong tight exit.

As all paratroopers know, what happens next is deafening noise and violent wind blast, followed four seconds later by an equally deafening silence. It's been 18 years since my last jump, and I'm thankful on this one there is no rucksack to trip over, only five other jumpers to look out for, no lowering line release to time correctly, and no rifle bag to push out of the way when planet Earth asks me nicely for a PLF. Not sure what the Brits and Dutch call it, but in the USA , we call these "Hollywood Jumps". After checking my canopy (Oh, look at that... it's red white and blue???), rate of descent (about the same as everyone else), and location of other jumpers (Camron seems to be futzing with the helmet over his face, and I seem to be headed right toward Major Dave. A bit too close for comfort. "Hi!"). I look over my shoulder to see Annie flying away, the sound of her screaming propeller vanishing behind me. The next thing I notice is oscillation from the wind. Another treat the wind is giving me is a pretty rapid rate of horizontal movement. Even at 2,500 feet now, it's easy to see my toes moving pretty rapidly against the ba ck d rop of the grassy DZ below. Oh I hope it's a soft one.

Now where's that damn windsock? Took me a while to find it. Oh there it is. What's the green strip? Oh, that's the runway. Note to self: Stay away from that area. Good plan. I see Daryl waaaay out in the distance. He seems to be flying upward. Hmm. Chute catchers on the ground running around like ants, yelling "feet and knees together, feet and knees together" Ok, ok, got it...

The wind turns my chute's modifications into 'run' mode, so I toggle around to point my face into the breeze. But looking down, I'm still running with the wind. Oh well, back side PLF I guess. The upper winds keep pushing the chute around, so to keep it pointed away from the windsock is a constant struggle all the way down, but good news, the toggles are very responsive. But before long, down is here, I convert my body into a curved steel spring, and I hit a nice soft spot for still a nice bone jarring PLF. But with the wind, the canopy wants to keep flying, so I get a nice muddy extra ride for an extra 20 or 30 meters or so, dragged along the ground until I can pull in a riser. (We had been instructed not to release the capewells. This is unlike US Army Airborne School where you just let 'em pop!)

Split second later, I feel no significant pain, but a bit of temporary soreness on all five points of contact, so I'm pretty sure I hit them all in order, with no extras like "nose" or "ass".

Not bad at all. Hooah! Knees in the breeze again!

Disconnect the leg straps, daisy chain the lines, figure-8-roll the canopy, and it's a nice little hike back to the hangar. Are they ever going to teach us how to pack?

Back at the hangar, many are already packing, and we all start learning by doing. All in all, it's not that complicated. I spend at least 6 hours over the next three days packing over and over. I overhear Ian Marshall telling someone that he's packed these chutes many different creative and imaginative ways, just to see if they'll still open (noice!) and in all but a small handful of times they do. But I keep trying to do it exactly correct the rest of the week anyway.

When in doubt I remember a quote from the other Jan, the JMPI Jan, who said "Eets a parachute. Eet wunts to open." Fair enough.

Jim learns from Glen how to be a good harness dummy.

Quick lunch of rolls, ham, and cheese, (it seems every breakfast and lunch contains these three lonely ingredients.) We suit up and give it another go. Winds have shifted 180 degrees, and gotten faster, so even more reason to give the London youth another opportunity to "Go First". A few of us Yanks get ourselves onto the second stick of the second plane. We still get a crummy exit spot, but much better than the other sticks.

That night at the pub, they're showing a video which Barry Van Rossum took with his skydiver's helmet cam. Very cool video. To this day, I'm still trying to get my hands on a copy of that footage.

Lots of cold beer and chatter. I advise Glen that I have tied him with eight career jumps total. Oooohhh... 8. ;-) That night in the big brown box, 20 or so of us get a little sleep. Those who aren't snoring are ripping some serious farts all night long. And some I think are doing both. Y'know. Guy stuff.

Albert:

Scared but confident, light wind. Thought for the day: "I'm not a cherry anymore!!"

Lawrence :

"Yes you are, you one jump chump!"

DAY 3 - 27/4/2004

Jim:

One jump in the morning, too windy for the afternoon. As for the morning, nothing unusual about that first jump except for if it hadn't been for cameraman Barry Van Rossum, I would have went out the door (and then perhaps out of my harness) with my right leg strap completely unhooked. He spotted it, and I connected it in time. Later on the ground, I found that the snap hook at the end of the leg strap which makes that connection had no more "snap" to it, only "hook". So easy to see how sitting then standing in the plane would unhook it. I reported it to the rigger when we got back in.

While on the flight up to altitude, Mr Mellers advises the rest of us in the plane that "I just shat meself", and that the "load" is now in his trousers. Mr Cobb sitting immediately in front of him and between his legs says "cheers for that, mate."

The ride to altitude.

One of my regrets from jumping in the US Army is that I never had the door position in the stick. For those of you who have never jumped, door position means that when the door opens, you stand there in it watching the ground and the sky, until the jumpmaster is happy with the spot and orders you out, then everyone quickly follows. So, you end up being the only one with plenty of time to either enjoy the view or to contemplate your predicament, your choice. Back in the US Army, sometimes the jumpmaster leaves you there for up to a minute or so, which of course seems like 15-20 minutes from what I hear. On the ground it always seems like a great idea to take that position, but in the plane, it never does. As we're lined up on the far end of the runway waiting for Annie's second run to load up, Major Dave was lined up for the door and had asked me if I wanted it. I told him I did not. He said he wasn't big on the door position either, and I sensed he wasn't all that happy about me turning it down. We go up. I'm second in the door. Out, fight the winds all the way down, PLF, hit all five points of contact in order, and another awesome successful jump.

Similar pattern to yesterday though. Rolls, ham, and cheese for breakfast. Rolls, ham, and cheese for lunch. In between, one windy jump when some start coming down hard, getting scraped up, bruised, and turned ankles. Nothing no one cannot handle until we get word that Al is still laying out there on the DZ. First an ambulance, then a medevac helicopter to take him back south off the island back to hospital in Leeuwarden . I was back at the hangar at the time, so perhaps some who were out there can fill in the details. Story comes back that it's Al's femur, but he's conscious and in good spirits. And most importantly, with this being Al's third jump, hopefully that means he has qualified for the Bronze Pathfinder Wings!!

Lawrence gets a snapshot of the large orange windsock locked horizontally as if it had been welded that way. Any windier, and Annie flying a bit higher, and on exit I probably could've drifted back to California on the uppers. The second jump of the day is called off.

A little bit of wind to make it interesting

DAY 4 - 28/4/2004

Jim:

The morning starts with the Americans late for Steve Jennings' first formation before leaving camp for the airfield. We're ordered to knock out 20, and one for the Airborne. The London youths, who were at the formation on time, enjoyed watching someone else taking some grief for once.

So, two jumps today. First one goes very well. Rory Cobb is sitting on the floor of Annie in front of me on the non-door side. By the time it's time for us to stand up and hook up, took us a bit to notice we were missing someone. Look down to the left to see that Mr Cobb is still sitting there asleep. He rode the plane down. Still don't understand how that happened...

Glen:

A beautiful day. Sunny, warm. Gentle breeze - A great day for the Airborne. I'm told my chute is to arrive momentarily. I'm elated. I had inadvertently left my jump boots back in the US before the trip over, so picked up a set of brown low-ankle hiking boots at a shop in the nearby town of Nes .

We started the day with a good breakfast. Plenty of coffee and many a good story told round by all. A quick ride to the DZ in a POV provided by Major Dave - a certifiable Public Affairs Officer. ;-) An easy start at the hangar. Laying out chutes and packing. Everyone quietly at work. Some walking a little slower today now that a few jumps have been made.

Ameland is a great place for a gathering such as this. A friendly people. A pub that closes only when people are finished drinking. Food that's better than your typical mess hall.

The lot from London are astoundly a great group of kids. There is no limit in life to what they can be. They are courteous, considerate, and full of life. A great program. A motley group of jumpers, but all are now Airborne and today there are none finer.

Everyone here realizes that we are living life to the fullest. We are blessed.

Jim:

Two jumps today. Most finish their 5 for the wings. This time, on the 5th jump, Major Dave tells me "ok, so you'll be taking door position this time." Like I had a choice. Well, it was always my regret that I hadn't taken door position on any of my previous jumps. Actually, not so bad. Nice view. And Jan didn't leave me there too long. GO-- Up and out. Very cool.

Glen's large canopy arrives by helicopter, is rigged and packed, and he makes his first jump from the Cessna. A video of this exists somewhere. Unfortunately, on PLF he breaks his pelvis and collarbone and medevac's out, telling the helicopter pilot that he'd like to go pay Al a visit. The pilot asks Glen if he was one of the fellows who helped carry Al's stretcher yesterday. Glen said, "Yes, yes I am...".

And yes, the irony not lost on the Dutch, the helicopter which brings the Honorable Mayor and his broken bones back to Leeuwarden is the same one which delivered his new canopy just a couple hours before.

No ferrys here. Glen heads back to Leeuwarden in style.

Lawrence :

I am now sitting here having successfully completed my second jump school (21 years after the first). I am tired, and I have stiff muscles everywhere, and I am feeling kind of sad because of the two accidents that removed two of our comrades from the course. But overall, I am very happy, very satisfied, and confident and feeling very proud to have done the jump course in WW2 British and Canadian uniform. I'm now the proud owner of the Dutch "A" wings, and eagerly awaiting the jump at Ranville in Normandy - 6 June 2004!

Don't Mess With Texan, uh, Camron!

DAY 5 - 29/4/2004

Jim:

Camron and I take the boat and bus back to Leeuwarden to visit with Al and Glen, who are sharing a hospital room. And while it wouldn't do any good to report here how much pain they were in, it is worth saying that they're in good spirits, and even more worth saying that the blonde Dutch nurses there to give them periodic sponge baths are a small perk to their situation. In true American fashion, we bring them each a bag full of McDonald's artery cloggers.

By cab, bus, boat, then Dave's car, we get back to the camp a little too late for the wings ceremony, but in time for the party afterward at the cadre's bungalow. Sitting around tables, standing around fires, telling stories of the week, and having a great time. Great bunch of guys to hang out with.

Jumpers being awarded their wings.

Steve Jennings reminds everyone that since he was the last out of the pub each night this week, since this is the last night it would be all of our duty to not hit the rack until he does first.

A few hours later, most of us drunk, physically wiped out, or both, Ian Marshall stands up to regale us all with a narrative joke. I'm sure it was quite clever, and (knowing Ian) I'm sure it was quite pornographic, but no fault of his, it was after 3:00am, and I kept falling asleep in 6 second bursts, every 15 seconds or so. Each time I woke up, Ian was at yet another part of the tale where he's spitting beer back into his cup as if to graphically describe how the subject of the story is urinating, more and more each time. I don't know. My memory is hazy. Maybe he'll post the joke up here in the 'Members' section of the new web site for you all to enjoy...

Wings party

 By 3:30am or so, all off to bed, and up the next morning to the boat back to where we all came from. We part ways, and we wish each other good luck for those who will be on the Normandy and Arnhem jumps later this year. Being from California , it's a little too tough for me this year, but I hope to participate in Pathfinder events in the near future.

What a great week. Thanks Pathfinder! Airborne!

Sincerely,

The American Contingent to

Pathfinder Airborne Class 2004-1

"Break Like The Wind!"