Reviews
for
Airborne: One Man's Journey
Wings of Honor, June 9, 2007
"You have to be granite, you can't be sandstone. Sandstone crumbles."
This was a line in Edd Voss's story that stuck out for me. From the very first
word to the very last one which was "AIRBORNE" I was taken in. This author
describes his time in jump school that had me living every moment.
You have to dig deep within yourself to climb the obstacles that are all around
you and there isn't anyone on the face of the earth who can do it for you. That
mindset, or spirit if you will, takes you through even the most difficult
physical pain these people have to face as they prepare.
In this story, the inner strength and mindset that is needed to achieve what Edd
and many others have set out to conquer was described in a beautiful way and
comes straight from from the heart from someone who knows and has been there.
Having seen a set of the wings Mr. Voss talks about has made me really
understand better what was earned and the honor that is attached to them. I
can't help but admire this author and the many others who took the challenge and
continued on even when there was doubt... and succeeded anyway.
Excellent story Mr. Voss. I look forward to more of your stories.
Vickie (Tory Lynn) Author of "My Charming Protector"
Beautiful Streamer, July 29, 2007
The title of this review will probably make the author smile, because he long
since learned through superior training and exquisite attention to detail each
and every time on each and every jump not to let such disasters happen. His
training, in other words bred CONFIDENCE...but there is a better word and
Sergeant Voss gives it to us...His training bred the spirit of AIRBORNE. There
is no other way to put it, and the author tells us why as he relates IN
EXQUISITE DETAIL every step he went through to get to jump school. Your neck
muscles tighten as you read, because Sergeant Voss will not spare you the
detail...the detail...each and every step is full of detail.
Through the detail you learn why...and it's impact is all the greater because
you the reader will appreciate it...Sgt. Voss will not tell you. You learn it's
the detail that saves your life. With every step toward the door there are
details to be recalled...details related to your own preparation...details
related to your buddy's preparation...details related to the details related to
your other buddy's checking of your preparation... on and on...THE DETAILS SAVE
YOUR LIFE...and as Sergeant Voss talks, you learn the details he had to
learn...in detail. It's a fascinating story made all the more fascinating by the
way Edd Voss writes it. You feel like you're back in the military...but not in
some route step unit...Sergeant Voss puts you with the Special Forces and you
truly follow One Man's Journey... Edd's journey to the status of AIRBORNE.
This evening when Edd reminded me I had promised to read his story about a month
ago, he said he was waiting to see if I thought he had done justice to the
34Foot Tower. It was like magic...every muscle tightened, particularly those in
the parts of the body most affected by the memory and I cringed into a cold
sweat, promptly writing him an emotional response. The 34Foot tower, as Edd
explains, is the triumph of psychology...the psychology of fear...fear of
heights...fear of falling...fear of thinking your PLF might not be letter
perfect. Yeah Edd, Ol' buddy, you did justice to it...now I'm so sore
vicariously doing your damned pushups for you and standing on the edge of that
thing focusing on the horizon and concentrating on my PLF that I may never
straighten up again. I HAD to focus on the horizon...because I've had a deadly
fear of heights ever since my dad cut the engine of the plane we were riding
when I was in second grade and we plummeted a couple thousand feet toward earth,
with only the whistling wind and the Love of God as companions. I had to
concentrate on my PLF because I had recently broken my ankle. That was my
nervous look at my left combat boot that got points taken off as i stood at the
edge...I was thinking of that PLF...that ankle.
I never did the next step...the bit with the perfectly good airplane. my job
called for me to then qualify as capable to perform my duties at 42,000 ft
pressure altitude, and 165 ft pressure depth...so I never CAME CLOSE to being
AIRBORNE! But Edd did...and he'll earn your profound respect, or if you are
AIRBORNE, like my closest friend back in Samoa, he'll make you very nostalgic.
If you're listening Sergeant O'Brien..."DRIVE ON AIRBORNE!" Thanks Edd...but not
for the Beautiful Streamer...you'll have me sucking air over that for quite a
while! Five Stars... SSgt Cassell
What it takes to jump!, August 28, 2007
For anyone who might have wondered what it is like to go through Airborne
training, Edd Voss' story is the answer. In fact, I would recommend it for
anyone who is going into the Army and considering signing up for the training.
I'm an old Army hand myself and if I had been able to read this story before I
signed up, I might have went the Airborne route myself...but then again, maybe
not. It's not the heights; it's the idea of jumping out of a perfectly good
airplane. This story is a great primer for adventurous types who are considering
skydiving or going into the Airborne corps. Five stars!
ALL THE WAY!,
May 9, 2007
I'm sitting here in tears recalling every pushup, every ache and pain.
Remembering the fear of that second jump and the pride that comes with
overcoming that fear.
It also brings back the memories of the camaraderie and bond developed between
fellow troopers,
each knowing what the others had endured to earn their wings.
Finally recalling the overwhelming pride of receiving the wings.
My post was in Georgia, Edd's in Germany...I earned my wings in '57, Edd in
'77...
the places and the names were different, but Edd's words say the experiences
were the same.
Thanks, my friend for reviving the memories and the pride.
What else can I say...AIRBORNE, All The Way!
Dignity cast in bronze. . ., May 30, 2007
Another thoroughly enjoyable read from the literary spell-caster named Edd Voss.
This piece, his newest in a growing line of engaging stories and memoirs, was
written with just the right mix of self-effacing honesty, charm and nostalgia.
I was a sport jumper in the eighties and nineties, and the advanced equipment we
used made it all fairly easy - the expensive rectangular canopies employed by
sport jumpers captures and harnesses the wind in such a way that if you flair at
just the right time (engage both toggles simultaneously so the canopy folds in
on itself - like hitting the air-brakes!) you can light upon the ground as
gently as you would by stepping off a low curb. Seventy year-old men can do it -
and have.
Not so with the equipment Edd Voss and his noble colleagues used during Airborne
training - if you attempted the same type of landing using a circular chute, you
would shatter both legs like dry kindling, sending splintered bone fragments
through flesh and uniform alike. Today, sport jumpers frequently wear
fashionable rubber Teva sandals; back then, you had to wear special jump boots
to help protect your ankles.
Needless to say, it took a special breed of man not just to jump out of a plane,
but to want to jump out of that plane. It took daredevils and it took adrenaline
junkies and it took a big set of brass ones (please pardon the ribald metaphor,
but I maintain it is appropriate here) to engage in such an undertaking fraught
with so much obvious peril.
What I enjoyed the most about Edd's piece (and the piece by D.J. Stephens as
well - had to sneak that in there, didn't want to do two reviews!) was the lack
of braggadocio at the heart and soul of each story -- these two accounts were
written by men who were not daredevils, or adrenaline junkies (I will not
comment on the other, but I'm fairly sure I know) they were just a couple of
guys who wanted to do something out of the norm, to help blaze a new trail, to
be the pioneers of something, and simply, to do something that made them proud.
The stories are not without nobility; they are both fueled with dignity cast in
bronze, but there is not one ounce of self-promoting machismo in either piece.
In fact Edd almost belabored the notion that he was afraid; not afraid of death,
as would seem to be normal, but afraid of failing. This is where I believe Edd
creates something more than the sum of his words, for he has fashioned a mental
lithograph, a man jumping out of a plane, as a perfect symbolic representation
for anything that frightens us - speaking in public, asking that cute girl at
the bar if you can buy her a drink, demanding a raise from your boss -
The way to overcome your fears is to do exactly what Edd did -- focus on the
problem, practice, practice, practice, then dive in head first, scream in the
face of adversity, and give it everything you have.
The taste of your heart in your throat is its own peculiar reward.
Congratulations, Edd -- you have earned the right to wear your wings on whatever
article of clothing you deem fit!
I salute you.
E.R.O.