"The first time
over I took one look down--one--that was enough. The jump
field looked like it was a postage stamp in an album. We
approached it by way of a blue ocean and a black precipice.
No, sir, that's not for me, I was thinking', when I took
a second look down,--and that was too many. There was the gruesomest pile of
ruined buildings you ever dreamed up in a nightmare The 'jump-field' (they
called it that) was a potato patch and a rock pile; and there was a spew of
parachutes all over them. Well, sir, my flesh would have crept away if the
harness wasn't binding me in. We were heading back for our second pass, and the
word was brought along from the pilot, 'Boys, they're shooting at us.' I must o'
been in a daze, 'cause I said to my buddy, 'The motor's making a terrible noise,
you'll have to speak louder--I thought you remarked they was shooting at us.'
Scared? No, I wasn't scared. A bear could bite me, and I wouldn't be
scared. I was petrified. When they tell about a man's blood freezing, my red
copsicles would o' built a igloo just then. If I jumped out the door after that,
it must o' been instinct, cause as sure as Death has crossbones, it wasn't me
that done it."
