Leap of Faith – An Ode to Military Humor

Summer at Fort Benning could get quite hot and humid to the point where it would be almost unbearable.  Out in the Harmony Church area of Fort Benning where my company was stationed, most facilities were housed in World War II-era wooden buildings.  What that meant was no air conditioning.  None.  Zip.  Zilch.  Nada.  The only cooling soldiers would find out there was in the form of fans and shade.  You know. Shade from the sun.  When soldiers got hot and miserable around midday, even crawling underneath a deuce-and-a-half, they could find a little relief from the heat and the sun.  But on the week-ends, what could the soldiers do to find relief?  Sure, modern teen-agers go hang out at the mall.  Some GIs would go downtown at night and hang out at the clubs.  But what could you do during the day, unless, of course, you were lucky enough to live in an air-conditioned barracks?  To give you an idea of how hot it got there, on the occasions where it would be hot and humid, and then it would rain.  When the rain quit, steam would rise from the asphalt surface of the roads.  I had never before seen that in my life, and I have only experienced that phenomenon once since then.  That was when I was stationed in Central America (but that’s another story).  So, back to my question, what could the average joe do to cool off?  Sure, some could go to the post swimming pools, but that really wasn’t a viable solution all the time.  Well, one particularly hot and humid week-end when a bunch of us were sitting around the barracks drinking beer and trying to stay cool and dry.  Not really succeeding at either one.  One guy brought up the idea of swimming.  Another thought that was a great idea, but everybody started asking the usual question.  Where?  I will say that whenever the guys started talking about low-cost or no-cost (other than the beer, food, and gas money) ways to have fun and stay cool, they could definitely count me in.  I was always on top of that action.  I was there.  So, when one of the guys said, “I think I know of a place north of Columbus that will work.”  I was all ears, if you catch my drift.  The guy, SP4 Jones, was saying, “It’s out of the way.  It’s on a back road, so you sort of have to know where it is in order to find it.  But I’ve been there a few times, and it’s quite a rush and it’s a well-kept secret.  What do you say?”  We were all looking around and saying, “Yeah, it sounds good.”  “He went on, “It’s out of the way, but like I said, it’s a great place to go, and I know the way.  It’s an old abandoned gravel pit that is filled with water.  We’ll have a blast.  You’ll see.  What do you say?  Let’s go check it out.”  “Alright, Let’s go,” we all agreed.  We changed into tee shirts and cutoffs and headed to the Class VI store to get some beer and ice for the coolers.  We also stopped at the mini-PX to get some snack food.  Then, we headed on out.  We had a little convoy of sorts.  About three cars.  About nine or ten of us headed up to this magic swimming hole.  When we got up there, we stopped along the road. SP4 Jones said, “Here is what we’re going to do.  We’re going to hide our cars back in the trees along that trail right there.  Then, we’ll grab all of our beer and junk and walk across the road and down there a way.  Just follow me.”  We did as he said and followed him to a little trail that led into the trees on the other side of the road.  He walked a little way down that trail to a clearing and set his stuff down.  He said, “We’ll leave our stuff here.”  “Sounds good,” we all agreed.  Then he took off running down the trail, down this little dip in the trail and up over a rise in the trail, and then, he just disappeared.  Vanished from sight.  Now visualize this in your mind, if you can.  A few seconds later…  We heard a loud KERSPLASH!  I cannot say how long it was, but it seemed like a rather long time between the time he disappeared and the time we heard the splash.  Then a second guy took off down the trail, down the dip, up over the rise, and he also disappeared.  A few seconds later, we heard another loud KERSPLASH!  Then, another guy launched.  Same thing.  Then another guy.  But this guy let out a hell of a scream as soon as he disappeared over the rise.  He said, “HOLY SHIT!”  And then, we heard the KERSPLASH.  Then a fifth guy went, and again we heard a prayer to the porcelain gods, “HOLY SHIT!”  And then the splash.  When I heard those “Holy shits,” curiosity got the better of me.  I just had to know how far down the water was.  I wasn’t going to take anything on blind faith and just cut loose and take off running without looking.  Oh, hell no.  In God we trust, all others cash.  I walked down that trail and up the rise to the edge of what was a cliff.  I looked down and lost my breath.  DAMN!  Holy shit was right.  That water had to be at least sixty or seventy feet below the trail.  Now, I didn’t have a tape measure long enough to measure how far down it was.  But it was at least sixty or seventy feet down.  No wonder it took so long to hear the splash.  Damn, shit Damn.  I had never jumped from that high before.  Sure, I had jumped from the roof of the barn into the hay when I was a kid, and I had gone off the high diving board at my home town swimming pool.  But I had never attempted anything like this.  I went back and talked with the other guys.  One guy told me, “What you got to do is just forget about the distance down and just take off running and don’t look back and don’t stop until you’re up and over the rise and off the cliff.  Because, by then, it will be too late and the only way to go will be down.  Down into the water where it will all be worth it.”  And, we all agreed, “You only live once.  What the hell.”  So, I took off running before I could stop to think about it, and in an instant, I was airborne… And, I thought I would never hit the water.  Let me tell you, that first jump scared the shit out of me.  It scared the shit straight out of me.  Then, KERSPLASH!  I went straight down.  And the water got pitch black and cold as ice.  The only thing I could think about was getting to the surface.  I wanted to get to the surface of the pond as quick as possible.  I pushed my arms and legs as hard as I could.  Then I saw a dim glimmer of light above me.  I pushed harder.  The light got brighter.  Then, I broke the surface of the pond.  Then, I wanted to go again, so I looked around for a way out of the water and up the cliff.  I saw the guys climbing the rock face of the cliff.  I said, “Hey guys where is the easy way out?”  They yelled back, “This is the easy way out.  By the way, this is the only way out.”  I said, “Shit, you have got to be kidding me.  Give me a break.  This is the only way out?  Seriously?”  They said, “Seriously.  Stop your bitching and start climbing.”  I’m not going to lie to you, going off that cliff the first three or four times scared the shit out of me.  But at the same time, it was perhaps the best rush I have ever had next to the rush you get on the first drop on a roller coaster.  The climb up the cliff, yeah, that could be another exercise in futility, but it was one I was willing to make to take a leap of faith.

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