Squalus
The Good Humor Guy
Ummmm
where to start
Fore scores 7 years, oh yeah thats history. Some have asked what I do for a living besides diving. I sometimes reply, I breathe, a job and ect
. So here it is the way I see it (of course because your not here). My typical day starts at 0600 (6:00 a.m. for those who cant comprehend the 24 hr system) start coffee, do physical training (push-ups, sit-ups and, 5 mile run. I wonder if that is why I dont look like the Stay Puff Marsh mellow Man). Then off to work a 20minute drive with people you would swear got their license from god knows where, they make turn signals for a reason I think. I sit at a desk doing interviews and discussing possible future goals with all walks of life. Imagine sitting and listening to a teen with a GPA of 1.65 saying he is going to college cause he is going to be a doctor, one has to wonder what guidance counselors are really doing. After doing the interview and he likes what he is shown and agrees to enlist for a couple years an agreement is made. I am off to run a comprehensive background check; yeah I have that power to look into lives (and not the Wonder Twin type either). If you ever need a laugh (ok some might not see it this way, my apology) go to the police station and sit and observe what goes on. While there I had the privilege of a parent coming in to pick her son up for a MVA, typical teen driver runs stop sign and hits somebody. They tell her she cannot sign for him because, he is being held for possession (every parents nightmare right?). She goes off demanding to see the chief; he comes out and explains the entire deal to her. Not her son, she states hes in college and he would never do that
One has to wonder about todays parents and siblings, are we that blind? I sit and chuckle
her husband and her need a Seeing Eye dog real soon. Then back to work to do the tedious job of paperwork, funny you go automated and use more paper than what you used to. Try filling out 4 forms with the same information but have a different name to them (intelligence/common sense is an oxymoron) or, have a meeting twice before the real meeting covering the same thing. Then I make what I call the comedy hour phone calls. You with teens have experienced it at times at all times of the day and night, hey dont bite my head off, I would prefer to be doing a night dive or be at the movies. Then when all said and done it is time to go home (sometimes I wonder what that is) it is around 2100 (9:00 p.m.) or later than that because somebody has a wild hair up their you know what. So, by now you probably have a good feel for what my job is. I didnt ask for it, I was happy jumping out of planes in the pitch dark and meeting different cultures. By the way if the farmer that lives near Ft. Polk, LA I am truly sorry for crashing into your chicken coupe in the middle of the night, scaring your coon dog away and, scaring your wife while wearing all that camouflage on me. Its the pilots fault, honest I swear(that is a different story).
I was 11B but never did that jumping out of planes thing. Never could see jumping out of a perfectly functioning aircraft 
, according to the news nobody was picking on anyone so why the alert? I get picked on because I was the only one with coffee (nobody picks on the medical people), so I politely tell them that all the shot records are gone and that they all needed new shots (you wanna see a grown man twinge tellem they need shots). CO comes in tells us to grab our gear and move to the dispersing area we will be briefed on the aircraft. We move but not to our usual haunt, this time it is the isolation area, my bud and I look at each other in disbelief (were not in Kansas anymore Toto :11: ) we get additional gear there now the ruck weighs 98# and given already loaded mags(fun). Ok we sit and wait till mid afternoon still no sleep, used to it no problem. Then we load up and head to the airfield, finally doing something kids are getting restless and ornery. We load up on planes, I am thinking umm arent we supposed to be rigging our chutes? Then I see them stacked nicely on the floor of the aircraft (C-141) on a pallet, oh great an in flight rig means your going far (not a good sign, especially when you dont know where your going). Then a Hummer from Div staff show up and the BC (Battalion Commander is given orders, he disperses them to the line company commanders). Doors shut, aircraft taxi down the runway and lift off; our hearts are pounding so loud you cannot hear the engines. While inflight I get a mission template (tells you what we are going to do and where) finally, I see what we are doing an exercise and flying into Ft. Polk, LA (nerves are easing up a bit). Our TOT (time on target) is 0300, 800 AGL (above ground level) and then the dreaded acronym shows AWDS :yourkiddi (Adverse Weather Delivery System, means low flying clouds). In flight rigs are not fun, like shopping at WalMart after Thanksgiving pushing and shoving no room to do anything. Then the inspection is really what scares you; its not the full deal. So, I am standing there #1 jumper to go out then the green light comes on. Standing with 98# ruck between my legs, the pilot playing with the temp control ( you swear he had hot and cold flashes), plane bouncing around (this is not conducive to my nerves). The doors open on both sides, clouds roll in and you think are we really at altitude? I get the stand-by command and move to the door and look out and see nothing but clouds like a horror movie it is rolling into the aircraft. Being #1 is fun at times you can look out and see the stars and the moon if it is out and the trees and houses and whatnot. Not tonight, the green light comes on and I get the GO sign. Hand off my static line to the safety and go, praying what have I gotten myself into to deserve this? After the 4 second count it opens, how do you know in the clouds, you feel a jerk and you can look up but all you will see is the cloud (cant use lights unless you want to become a target). It opens; my heartbeat slows a bit. I wait for about a second or two and lower my stuff on the lowering line (lowering line is about 15 long and is attached to equipment to lower to the gorund) that is when the fun began, it goes from taunt to limp in about 3 seconds (either one or two things has happened (1) the line snapped and I just lost my ruck or (2) we were closer to the ground than we knew). So, I get ready to land wouldnt want to break anything when I hit. I hear a loud thump, and then I tense up and hit something solid (great trees I think but, NOT). A loud snapping and breaking noise happens I fall through a roof of some sort and land in soft straw and hey. Now I smell it, something familiar from my childhood. I landed in a farm I think, as I lay there doing a mental check for pain and numbness. It happened out of nowhere a Rhode Island Red with the intention of protecting his hens attacks claws and beak on my chest. I get out as fast as I could grab my gear and slipping and running in you know what to the door. I hate roosters till this day might I add. I get out and there is this lady in a nightgown with the country floral print all over it and fuzzy house slippers standing there in awe with her mouth wide open. I go to say something and she runs off screaming, then the family coon dog runs up and sees me and my weapon and decides hes going to follow her lead. I think great now what, Im in I dont know where and covered in chicken stuff, got scratches on my face from a rooster what else can happen to me? My only help just ran off frightened probably getting her husband to come out with his shotgun
.He comes out totting his gun, I ask politely to use his phone. He asks where you from boy (now I am thinking it's only pellets if I run)? I explain that the plane I was on let us out a little to early can't trust modern equipment these days. After a bit of talking he let me in to use the phone and call the post to come pick me up..at least this time I got a fresh cup of coffee and a nice plate of home made gumbo.
