It was a big ruckus in the latrine, somebody had opened the door to the other side, I walked through to the Charlie side. There were Soldiers everywhere. I think it was a Sunday and we were off the next day for some reason. It was still daylight but not much longer. The day drinking was obvious, I wasn’t even of age to drink yet. I had downed a few myself.He got in willingly, it was leaned up against the wall, one leg already bad.
The wall locker was destined for the scrap pile. But it had to get down stairs, it couldn’t go without a rider they told him. That was his duty, the cherry. He had his old school yellow and black PT shorts on, jump boots, ballistic helmet, no shirt. They closed him in it, he gave a thumbs up. He said, “Not on my head, not on my head.”They hoisted it up, cheers all around. Outboard personel stand up! Stand in the Door! Green light, Go!
Out he went. We were all hanging out the windows by then. He landed with a crash, the thin little wall locker sort of folded in the middle.He yelled Geronimo! You could hear him inside. He was ok. He had to pound the door open, only the top part opened up. The ground crew ripped the door off. The cherry emerged to a roar of cheers. He rode it in. Dynamite Parachute Landing Fall.
Wall Locker Ops.