War stories, English; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
"My dear old man," he answered, seriously, "there was nothing to be
communicative about. Thinking it over now, I am astounded how simple the
whole thing was. It was as easy as falling off a log. I fell like a
stone for two or three seconds, because the blessed umbrella wouldn't
open. Then I slowed up and floated gently downwards. It was a most
fascinating sensation. I heard old Petersen crashing about just above
me; and in the distance a search-light was moving backwards and forwards
across the sky, evidently looking for him. I should say it took me about
five minutes to come down; and of course all the way down I was
wondering where the devil I was going to land. The country below me was
black as pitch: not a light to be seen--not a camp-fire--nothing. As the
two things I wanted most to avoid were church steeples and the temporary
abode of any large number of Huns, everything looked very favourable. To
be suspended by one's trousers from a weathercock in the cold, grey
light of dawn seemed a sorry ending to the show; and to land from the
skies on a general's stomach requires explanation."
He smiled reminiscently. "I'm not likely to forget that descent,
Petersen's engine getting fainter and fainter in the distance, the first
pale streaks of light beginning to show in the east, and away on a road
to the south the headlamps of a car moving swiftly along. Then the
humour of the show struck me. Me, in my most picturesque disguise,
odoriferous as a family of ferrets in my borrowed garments, descending
gently on to the Hun like the fairy god-mother in a pantomime. So I
laughed, and--wished I hadn't. My knees hit my jaw with a crack, and I
very nearly bit my tongue in two. Cheeses all over the place, and there
I was enveloped in the folds of the collapsing parachute. Funny, but for
a moment I couldn't think what had happened. I suppose I was a bit dizzy
from the shock, and it never occurred to me that I'd reached the ground,
which, not being able to see in the dark, I hadn't known was so close.
Otherwise I could have landed much lighter. Yes, it's a great machine
that parachute." He paused to reach for his pipe.
"Where did you land?" I asked.
"In the middle of a ploughed field. Couldn't have been a better place if
I'd chosen it. A wood or a river would have been deuced awkward. Yes,
there's no doubt about it, old man, my luck was in from the very start.
I removed myself from the folds, picked up my cheeses, found a
convenient ditch alongside to hide the umbrella in, and then sat tight
waiting for dawn.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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