They are the military’s “guardian angels.” They are trained paramedics, paratroopers, and combat divers. This is the story of one such airman, and the mission of a lifetime.
RAMP DOOR!”
The
jumpmaster screams the command over the roaring engine, and the back
hatch of the HC-130 aircraft yawns open into night. A cold wind enters
the cabin. It brushes past the seven airmen seated in rows, sending
stray pieces of paper, fabric, and tape fluttering in the thin air. In
front, the team leader, Sergeant St. Clair** looks out past the ramp
door. He can see nothing. A low blanket of clouds blots out the moon and
stars and erases the distinction between the black sky and the black
Atlantic Ocean beneath. He turns back to his men, each strapped with
over a hundred-and-fifty pounds of gear. Their faces are lit only by the
lambent glow of chemlights.
“STAND UP!”
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