“Are they standard articles of issue now?”
“Regulations will soon come out requiring all Army pilots to put on a parachute for every flight,” replied Ruhs. “The orders will be very strict about it. As soon as the orders arrive, all pilots and observers will have to wear them every time they go up.”
“How can a pilot get into his plane and handle his controls with one of those bulky things strapped to his back?” asked Bill, whose idea of parachutes was limited to the large, bulky balloon type chutes.
“You evidently haven’t seen the latest model,” said the Sergeant. “This new type is called the seat pack. You sit on it in the plane just the same as you would a cushion. The straps fit over the shoulders just snug enough to operate satisfactorily, but not so tight as to be uncomfortable.”
“Well, I might as well break the sad news to you,” said Bill. “I volunteered to jump from a plane during the demonstration tomorrow. Tell me all that I must know beforehand.”
“I am sorry that you volunteered, Lieutenant,” replied Ruhs. “I was hoping to have that pleasure myself.”
Bill looked at the Sergeant in surprise. Ruhs had intimated that it would be a pleasure to jump from a plane.
“Have you ever jumped?” asked Bill.
“Several times,” replied Ruhs. “I rather like the sensation and take a jump at every opportunity.”
That statement changed everything for Bill. He would jump now to get the experience. If he had to wear a chute on all flights, he ought to know how to use it. Some day something might happen to the plane and he would have to jump. That being the case, he might as well eliminate all tendencies of hesitating to jump from the plane right now and not wait until circumstances made an immediate jump imperative.