Paratrooper exercise is all about preparation - and the jump

TOLEMAIDA AIR BASE, Colombia (AP) — Under a covered pavilion near a steaming runway at Colombia's Tolemaida Air Base, dozens of American paratroopers lie sweating on a concrete slab. Green and brown camouflage face paint drips from their brows.

The soldiers of the 82nd Airborne Division can’t move much — they’re loaded down with rifles and nearly 100 pounds of gear. In less than an hour, it will all drop out of a C-130 aircraft moving 150 mph.

The group's banter quiets to make way for directions from jumpmasters moving from one soldier to the next, making sure buckles and straps are in place.

Spc. Parker Firth is quieter than usual. After 22 jumps, he admits he’s still scared

“When the doors open, it’s not in your hands anymore," the 22-year-old said. "You just got to believe in the parachute to open. Whatever happens happens.”

For these 75 American paratroopers from Fort Bragg, North Carolina, this weeklong training exercise with the Colombian Army is not a deployment — a word reserved for occasions like the New Year’s Eve mobilization that sent members of the division’s Immediate Response Force to the Middle East, amid rising tensions with Iran. For now, 2,500 division paratroopers remain in the Middle East on standby.

It's intense training like the exercise in Colombia that allows the soldiers to deploy with lightning speed. Their readiness inspired the old saying around Fort Bragg: “When the president dials 911, the 82nd answers the phone.” The division, with nearly 18,000 paratroopers, operates under a constant state of readiness, rotating soldiers on and off standby.

The Associated Press was given rare access to accompany the group on its January joint training mission with Colombia, amid a humanitarian crisis in neighboring Venezuela that has sent hundreds of thousands of migrants and refugees fleeing over the border. U.S. diplomatic and political efforts to replace Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro with opposition leader Juan Guaido have been unsuccessful.

There have been no signs pointing to potential military intervention by the U.S. or Colombia. But as the United States has spent billions of dollars restoring peace and building a partnership in a region that’s heavily influenced by Russia and Iran, cementing relationships like the one with Colombia is key to U.S. strategy.

U.S. and Colombian forces spend several days mapping out the exercise, which simulates the securing of an air base. They spend hours jumping off elevated wooden platforms and practicing their landings in what resemble oversized sandboxes.

“It’s an honor to jump with the 82nd Airborne Division,” Colombian Maj. Gen. Pablo Alfonso Bonilla Vasquez tells the Americans, adding that their cooperation will send a message to the region.

The night before the jump, Sgt. Juan Dominguez sits on the floor and pulls at a maze of straps on his rucksack. The 33-year-old joined the U.S. Army at 27, later than many of his comrades. It was always a dream, but his wife and five children needed to be taken care of before he enlisted. He said he wants “to show my kids that even though I’m afraid of heights, you can overcome pretty much anything.”

At 4 a.m. on jump day, Sgt. 1st Class Nathan Fair and the soldiers of Bravo Company 325th Infantry Regiment rise and begin loading their gear onto buses bound for the airfield.

This is Fair’s second stint in the military. The 37-year-old left in 2006 but realized civilian life wasn’t his speed. “You miss the little things, like how easy it is to fall asleep on a gravel road on the range, with rocks digging into your back and you’re so ridiculously exhausted that you can just fall asleep anywhere,” he said.

Fair calls himself a “super-patriot” and is fiercely proud of the soldiers he leads: “They’re motivated, they’re in shape, they’re funny, they’re quick-witted, they’re aggressive. They’re alpha males and that’s the kind of men you want on the front lines defending you.”

On this mission, only one paratrooper sent from Fort Bragg is a woman — the division, much like the Army, is mostly men. Senior medic Sgt. Sara Sanders grew up hearing about the 82nd's legacy from her father and grandfather, both paratroopers. “Everyone grew up wanting to be professional ballerinas,” she said. “And I was like, ‘No, I want to be in the Army.'”

On jump day, all the members' preparation is put to a test. The soldiers are nervous but calm. (And if any say they aren't, "they're either lying to you or have something wrong upstairs,” Staff Sgt. Wesley Lee says.)

Packed into the C-130, waiting for the flashing green light that tells them it’s time to jump, they are no longer Americans or Colombians. They are just soldiers, focused on their task.

Maj. Gen. Daniel Walrath is first out the door. The jump — his first in 10 years — is a sign of leadership to his soldiers and a symbol of friendship to the Colombian general leading the way through the door on the other side of the airplane.

One by one, Colombian and American paratroopers follow, stepping off the ledge and spiraling downward. As each jumps, a white canopy unfolds above, slowing their fall but not the pace of their breath.

The division declares the exercise a success, with only one minor injury: a broken bone on the Colombian side.

The next day, the troops from both nations gather on Tolemaida Air Base. They have earned the right to wear one another's jump wings. For Fair, this is not just an alliance on paper; it’s a bond among soldiers. “And if it comes to it, and we have to fight together," he said, "they know we’ve got each other’s backs.”

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Follow Morgan at [www.twitter.com/StorytellerSBM](<Under a covered pavilion just feet away from a steaming runway at Columbia's Tolemaida Air Base, dozens of American paratroopers lie sweating on the concrete slab. Green and brown camouflage face paint starts to drip from their young brows. The men of the 82nd Airborne Division can’t do much moving at this point. They’re loaded down with rifles and nearly 100 pounds of gear. In less than an hour, it will all fall out of a perfectly good airplane alongside them. Staff Sgt. Wesley Lee is nervous, just like his fellow soldiers. And if any say they aren't: "They're either lying to you or have something wrong upstairs,” he said. The booming banter between soldiers far from home has quieted to make way for directions from jump masters moving from one soldier to the next, making sure buckles and straps are in their precise place. Spc. Parker Firth is quieter than usual. After 22 jumps, the 22-year-old admits he’s still scared “When the doors open, it’s not in your hands anymore. You just got to believe in the parachute to open. Whatever happens, happens,” he said. The Associated Press was granted a rare opportunity to accompany 75 American paratroopers from Fort Bragg, North Carolina to Colombia on a week-long training exercise with the Colombian Army. The Army is careful to point out this is not a deployment. They reserve the “D” word for occasions like the New Year’s Eve mobilization that sent members of the division’s Immediate Response Force to the Middle East, amid rising tensions with Iran. Those troops left within hours of being called to base in the volatile aftermath of a drone strike that killed Gen. Qassem Soleimani, the head of Iran's elite Quds Force who has been blamed for attacks on U.S. troops. But it's the intense training, exemplified by their trip to Columbia, that allows them to deploy with lightning-fast speed. It's that same readiness that inspired the old saying around Fort Bragg: “When the President dials 911, the 82nd answers the phone.” The Division, nearly 18,000 paratroopers strong, operates under a constant state of readiness, rotating soldiers on and off standby. And members of the “All-American Division” know only too well that there is really no such thing as a routine mission — or even routine training. In the base in Columbia, “Blood on the Risers” echos from a cell phone. It’s a reminder of why the 82nd trains so intensely. The old WWII paratrooper tune trades out the lyrics “glory, glory Hallelujah” for “gory, gory what a helluva way to die.” The division's lineage includes men who parachuted into Normandy. Senior MEDIC Sara Sanders grew up hearing about that legacy. Her father and grandfather were paratroopers long before her. “I danced my whole life and everyone grew up wanting to be professional ballerinas… And I was like, no, I want to be in the Army.” Sanders is the only female soldier who was sent to Colombia from the 82nd on this exercise. But she’s hoping her next assignment won’t be training. “I want to deploy so badly. Most people do in the military,” said. The joint training mission with Columbia comes amid a worsening humanitarian crisis in neighboring Venezuela that has sent thousands of refugees fleeing over the border. U.S. diplomatic and political efforts to replace President Nicolas Maduro with opposition leader Juan Guaido have been unsuccessful but there’s been no signs pointing to potential military intervention by the U.S. or Colombia. Over the past two decades, the U.S. has spent billions of dollars restoring peace and building a partnership in a region that’s heavily influenced by Russia and Iran. With an ascendant China making inroads in other parts of the globe, cementing relationships like the one with Colombia becomes all the more important. And so, 24 hours after leaving Ft. Bragg, a mix of two camouflage patterns files into a room on Tolemaida Air Base. “It’s an honor to jump with the 82nd Airborne Division,” Colombian Maj. Gen. Pablo Alfonso Bonilla Vasquez tells his American comrades, adding that their cooperation will send a message to the region. U.S. and Colombian forces spend several days mapping out each detail of the exercise, which will simulate the securing of an airbase. They spend hours jumping off elevated wooden platforms and practicing their landings in what resemble oversized sandboxes. The night before the jump, a sense of anticipation is mounting in the barracks. Sgt. Juan Dominguez sits on the floor and pulls at a maze of straps on his rucksack. The 33-year-old joined the Army at 27, later than many of his comrades. It was always a dream, but his wife and five children needed to be taken care of before he enlisted. He wants them to take notice “to show my kids that even though I’m afraid of heights, you can overcome pretty much anything,” Dominguez said. At 4 a.m. on jump day, Sgt. 1st Class Nathan Fair and the men of Bravo Company 325th Infantry Regiment rise and begin loading their gear onto buses bound for the airfield. This is Fair’s second stint in the military. The 37-year-old left in 2006 but quickly realized civilian life wasn’t his speed. “You miss the little things, like how easy it is to fall asleep on a gravel road on the range, with rocks digging into your back and you’re so ridiculously exhausted that you can just fall asleep anywhere,” he says. Fair calls himself a super patriot and is fiercely proud of the men he leads. “They’re motivated, they’re in shape, they’re funny, they’re quick-witted, they’re aggressive,” Fair said. “They’re alpha males and that’s the kind of men you want on the front lines defending you.” The job can be tough on one’s body. Proof can be found in Staff Sgt. Steven Adams’ limp. Forty-nine jumps have grounded the 37-year-old paratrooper who now handles logistics for the division. He’s counting down the days until he retires after 20 years of service. Finally, all that preparation comes to the test. Packed into the C-130 traveling at 150 miles per hour, waiting for the flashing green light that tells them it’s time to jump, they are no longer Americans or Colombians. They are just soldiers, focused only on the task right in front of them. “Standing next to the edge of a door with winds up to 160 miles an hour gusting right outside. It’s something you can’t experience going to six flags,” Lee, the staff sergeant, said. The jump is a success with only one minor injury. The next day, the troops from two friendly nations gather in a pavilion on base. They have earned the right to wear each others’ jump wings. For Fair, this is no longer just an alliance on paper. It’s a bond among soldiers. “And if it comes to it, and we have to fight together,” he says, “they know we’ve got each other’s backs.” The commitment required of paratroopers extends not just to their training and deployments, but also to their families, especially the spouses of the soldiers who deployed rapidly in January — a separate group from those training in Columbia. The days move slowly for Suuey Lamar in Spencer, North Carolina. Her husband, Staff Sgt. Jaen Lamar, was one of the 725 paratroopers to deploy within hours on New Year’s Eve with the IRF. In the following days, 2,000 more would follow. “This was just unexpected. I still didn’t think it was real until he was gone,” she said. As a veteran herself, Suuey understands the Army. She knows exactly what her husband signed up for and that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than serving his country. She doesn’t want anyone’s pity. But the 22-year-old is allowed to miss her high school sweetheart. “Being married to someone in the military, it has to be something that you’re mentally prepared for. But that doesn’t make it any easier,” she said. Ask her four-year-old son where daddy is and he’ll say “Iraq.” He clings onto a plush toy called a “Daddy Doll” with Jaen’s photo on it as he organized toy cars by color on the living room floor. Nearly two months after they said goodbye to Jaen, Suuey her son waited patiently with other eager families at Green Ramp, the staging area on Fort Bragg for countless deployments and family reunions. Dozens of soldiers pass them by in formation until she finally spots Jaen and points. With Daddy Doll in one hand, the family reunites. But at least for now xx won’t need it. The real thing is finally home. https://twitter.com/StorytellerSBM>)

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