Drop Ins

I'm sitting in my office and a Caribou is occasionally flying low overhead. The heavy thrum of the engines is, at once, distracting and soothing. What is a Caribou doing flying over the office?

It's headed out over the Bay to drop off parachutists. These brave men and women are in the final stages of training and must be able to jump out of a plane. They also hang about in the swimming pool for a few hours in their jammies. All part of the survival training for our future defence force leaders.

I remember similar exercises from when I was growing up here. Then, I took my swimming lessons with the new cadets: me learning to swim, them, hunky young men in their jammies floating in the cold water and chilling rain.

When it came time for those young men to jump out of the plane, I stood on the shore and watched; admired them for their courage, feared for their safety, eyed the spectacle of all those 'chutes opening.

Today, little has changed. The base has undergone some construction, some houses are gone, but the men and women training there remain, though less in numbers.

I can't imagine the excitement, the sheer terror of staring out the back of a noisy Caribou and knowing you've got to jump into space and plummet towards the blue of the sea; and hope your landing buddies are there to drag you out of the frigid water before the chute and your clothes drag you beneath the surface. You've got to admire them for that.

Invincible youth. Yeah. By showing courage now, we can be relieved that they will also show courage in the future, when they, and we civilians, need it most. Brave souls, one and all.