Ladies and Gentlemen,
I believe this newspaper article deserves wider circulation. Being someone who spent seven of the formative years of his life in the (and out) of the three regular bns of The parachute Regiment, which shaped me and made me the human being I am, I must say that I am bias. However, even though having finally left the system after a lifetime, I am still firmly conviced that there remains a need for airborne units, with operations of company-battalion group size a distinct possibility.
I am not over impressed with the references to Saving Pte Ryanor Band of Brothers.
Yours,
Jock in Sydney.
Parachute troops produce top soldiers
Dave Brown
The Ottawa Citizen
Saturday, June 01, 2002
The possibility of declaring parachute troops obsolete has caused upset among the few former jumpers I know. They say parachuting isn‘t the issue, and the decision to remove it should not be made by people who never did it.
It‘s a confusing issue, they say. It‘s something one has to live through to understand.
Searching for an explanation, I put the question to Brig.-Gen. (retired) Ian Douglas, a 36-year veteran of the military who was Commander of Canada‘s élite Canadian Airborne Regiment from 1982 to 1985.
He, too, seemed to struggle, trying to find common ground with a person who has no military experience. We found a starting point when he asked if I had seen Steven Spielberg‘s epic war movie Saving Private Ryan, and the made-for-television series Band of Brothers, made by Mr. Spielberg in partnership with Tom Hanks.
"Something those films show well is what is required of troops in combat; the amazing things we expect young men to do under terrible circumstances. The sacrifices they become willing to make.
"I think what most people don‘t realize is that they don‘t do those things for a country or a flag or an ideal. They certainly aren‘t interested in politics. They do what they have to do for each other. For the small unit. In combat, the small unit, the infantry section, becomes something stronger than family."
Is it the terror of combat that creates those bonds?
"I‘ve never been in combat," said Brig.-Gen. Douglas. "But I‘ve known terror.
"The most terrifying moment of my life was standing for the first time in a mock tower as a young officer knowing I was going to have to jump (10 metres). You jump in pairs and there was a young private with me waiting for me to do it, then he would have to follow.
"I could see he was as scared as I was. But we did it, and at that moment there was a bond formed between us neither would ever forget. We had both conquered a great personal fear."
The training of parachute troops, it seems, is a way of substituting actual combat with something almost as tough and terrifying.
Those who experience it become set apart from the rest of us, and in the mutual overcoming of fear and great discomfort find a new respect for each other.
That isn‘t the right word, but there doesn‘t seem to be one.
I‘ve travelled to many military ceremonies in many countries and have seen the paratroop phenomenon. They seek each other out and even former enemies have that special bond.
As a man who spent much of his military career preparing young men to perform under terrible circumstances, Brig- Gen. Douglas shows open fear at the possibility of losing the parachute as a training tool.
"We expect so much from these kids. We have to give them every bit of help we can."
He sees the parachute not as a device to slow a falling body, but as a psychological training tool.
In 1982, the general recalled, he took part in the Maroon Beret course at Petawawa. He was a colonel at the time, but all rank was removed and everybody on the course was a paratrooper, including the regimental sergeant major. Nobody got preferential treatment.
They spent their days and nights together sharing rough duty in the field. They picked the same bugs out of the same field rations. They went on runs at five in the morning. And they jumped together.
As one of two men responsible for jumping with a medium machine-gun, Brig.-Gen. Douglas recalls that particular horror.
"You are so loaded with equipment that the jump masters have to stand you up, help you to the door, and hold you in place until the green light comes on. Then you jump, or perhaps fall out of the airplane would better describe it."
He recalls his "airborne buddy" from that course was a young trooper from 1er Commando Aéroporté, the Airborne‘s francophone unit.
"We did everything together; checked each other before jumps, literally lived and breathed with each other for 10 days, 24 hours a day.
"Every time we met after that, even if I was inspecting the troops, we had a little look for each other. Not quite a wink. He was my airborne buddy."
In a letter to the editor in this newspaper last Saturday, similar sentiments were expressed by Col. (Retired) R.L. Cowling of London, Ont.
"(Paratroopers) have the ‘can-do‘ temperament, and the willingness to accept hardship and danger that is the mark of the professional soldier world-wide."
Canada‘s military leaders have promised a decision in the fall about whether to retire the parachute. The military isn‘t a democracy so there won‘t be a vote. One thing is clear. Those who have experienced parachute training think dropping it would be an awful mistake.
Dave Brown is the Citizen‘s senior editor. Send e-mail to dbrown@thecitizen.southam.ca Read previous columns at
www.ottawacitizen.com
© Copyright 2002 The Ottawa Citizen
NOTE
In regard to Spielberg. During the making of Pte Ryan the extras that played the American/German soldiers (apart from the initial scenes of the invasion when the Irish Army provided the big blob of people) in the vast majority of the scenes, were a group of 18 either serving regular members (or who had just been discharged) of the Para Regt and Royal Marines who were on leave, most being Cpls or Sgts (British equivalent not CFs), and either Jocks or Londoners.
Spielberg was fascinated by them, because when they did a scene - it was done to perfection, no retakes like they do with Hollywood extras/stunt men, these blokes were professionals. They would contribute their own thoughts to the proceedings, which enhanced the dramatic appeal of many of the scenes.
So Spielberg was absolutely and totally impressed, although his minders were quite upset with the behaviour, believing the chaps should kowtow to the great man.
He would talk to them during breaks being fascinated by stories of the Falklands, Northern Ireland, para/commando training, in short everything to do with them. But, what really amazed him was their sense of humour, and the constant rapatee between them.
In our regimental association we have a chap who is ex Para Regt, and who got the job as an extra on the day he completed his 22 years and was waiting to migrate to Australia (since then three of the other extras have arrived in Sydney as migrants). He telling the story, since confirmed by the others of Spielberg asking the lads if any of them were Jewish, of which three of them where (lot of Jewish lads have joined the Para Regt over the years).
He then asking if anyone had had family who had died during the war, another of the lads - a true cockney, born in the Tower Hamlets, piped up and said "yes, I had a uncle". Spielberg saying he was sorry, and what camp did he die in. So and so said the cockney, "terrible, that was a death camp" from Spielberg. "How did he die", "o‘h he fell out of a guard tower"!
18 Tom‘s roaring with laughter, some 10 or 11 of Speilbergs minders, saying disgusting, terriblce, how racist et ect et ect. Spielberg, standing there like a stunned mullet, then finally disintergrating in hysterical laughter.
For the rest of the production, he was constantly saying ‘he fell out of a guard tower‘. When the final scenes requiring the lads was shot. He took all 18 and their wives/lovers/girlfriends out for dinner (no minders present), presenting each with a silver pint tankard with the traditional glass bottom with a gold guinea inside, each engraved for the bloke‘s, and the movie details. A number subsequently took part in the filming of Band of Brothers.
