An Cosantóir

www.military.ie THE DEFENCE FORCES MAGAZINE | 25 the straps yourself); (6) 'Has the slider descended fully?'; (7) 'Are both ends of the chute fully opened?' (8) 'Orientate yourself to others and the ground'; (9) 'Plan the method of landing follow- ing direction changes at 500 and 300ft.' We finally rehearsed landing by flaring the chute – pulling and holding the straps down fully to stall your descent – when about 2m from the ground. While there's fun to be had during the training sessions, compared to military courses, the staff's approach leaves nothing to chance in terms of the importance of familiarity with the above procedures. During the course I began to reflect on what drew me to something like this. Much like military training, I was once again sharing a bunkhouse with strangers, quickly getting to know how individuals responded to stress and mistakes as we each grappled with what we needed to know. And much like the appeal military training has for me, we were preparing to follow procedures correctly, under conditions of stress, with the result that performance and safety were maximised – a kind of baptism of fire giving way to a growing sense of com- petence and mastery. People relate at levels beyond small-talk when preparing to do challenging things together, and the social aspect of our training grew a life of its own as we saw each other make progress. On the day of our jumps we were slotted between groups undertaking other training courses; some more advanced, as we observed from their ground-based practice of dauntingly coordinated moves to be completed mid-air. We also completed our practical test, a rather chaotic experi- ence involving being strapped to a rig fastened to the roof of one of the training rooms. As each of us progress through the test, the instructors shouted specific predicaments at us, ob- serving our awareness of when to deploy the reserve straight- away (if steps 2-4 above had gone awry) versus when to take a little time to work on any challenges before reserve deployment (as per steps 5-7). The obvious, but nonetheless vital, practice of regularly checking our wrist-strapped altimeter was em- phasised. Less than 2,000ft, you may still have time to work through the problem before having to deploy the reserve. Less than 1,000ft? Don't even cut the primary chute; just deploy the reserve and hope for the best! Our first flight and jump reminded me of my two tandem jumps completed in Ireland. There's an initially boisterous atmosphere, slowly quietening down as the plane approaches 1,000ft and we check that our altimeters are set accurately. Approaching 4,000ft the cabin light turns green and the in- structor opens the door. First up sits by the entrance – legs out but allowed to move with the direction of the wind; each hand grips the floor and rear side of the doorway. You turn your body to the right, ready to fall into the wind squarely once you've pushed off. I was briefly struck by what makes this so challenging: you're rationally aware that you're quite safe, you know it is little more dangerous than going for a swim in choppy water, or any num- ber of slightly risky activities. However, while we are rational humans who 'know' we are quite safe, we are also apes at some level; apes about to jump off a so-much-higher tree than our evolutionary ancestors ever climbed. The effect is a combina- tion of a sense of controlled fear and an innate fight-or-flight response. The feeling is difficult to describe. Then the instructor shouts "Ready?!", and with the echo of your own "Ready!" in your ears you jump. For a few seconds the air wallops you as you drop with stiffened arms drawn back- wards behind your body. After 3-4 seconds, your chute deploys and you frantically scan above for an unopened, ragged, or otherwise dysfunctional chute opening. Of my five jumps, two involved less-than-ideal outcomes – though none even nearly warranted deployment of my reserve. I had to spend about five seconds untangling a twisted set of straps on one jump. On another, two 'flares' were required to fully deploy both air compartments at either side of the chute. The sense of relief, and gratitude, following a normal chute deployment – particularly during the first jump – is palpable. Landing is nothing to be trifled with – my first jump saw me land in a farmer's field a few hundred meters from the proper landing zone – and flaring at the right time, i.e. the very last second or so, is vital in staving off a sprained ankle or anything more serious. Following our five jumps we were presented with our static line licences, a certificate, and our Dutch 'para wings'. The sense of fun, confrontation of fear, camaraderie, and achievement from just two simple days of training cannot be recommended enough. So why not take the plunge? There's only a 1 in 250,000 chance you'll, briefly, regret it! Pte Eoin O'Shea serves as an Army Reservist in D Coy, 7 Inf Bn. He also works as a psychologist for a social care organisa- tion and the Irish Red Cross.

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