My dad was a paratrooper. Our family went to see him jump at his military base. I assume it was Fort Bragg because we lived in Fayetteville at the time. My dad waved his arms and legs so we’d be able to see him. Unfortunately, one of the paratroopers “streamered” (chute didn’t open) and fell to his death. They set off a smoke flare so no one could see the grisly aftermath. This was in the early sixties. My dad and an uncle were both paratroopers and would joke about streamers. Probably gallows humor to disguise their uneasiness about it possibly happening to them one day.
My brother was 82nd Airborne. I’m sorry, I meant 82nd AirBooooorne. Anyway, he has a number of fascinating stories about things getting caught in trees and other things “burning in”. Airborne ain’t for sissies.
American Paratrooper - Blood on the Risers (Gory Gory What a Helluva Way to Die) Lyrics