Since the earliest days of the earliest wars, there have been those Who would place themselves in harms way to save the lives of both comrades and total strangers. None of them, however, have been as dedicated to saving others pararescue jumpers. In the mid 1960s, airmen Joe Garvy and Lee Davis have entered training, along with many other recruits, to become pararescue jumpers. Being a PJ will mean constantly putting themselves into life-or-death situations in the jungles of Vietnam-and that's assuming they can even make it through the training. This novel follows a group of young men as they make the journey into the career field of pararescue. During this all-consuming time, they discover how far they can push themselves as they complete eighteen months of training and become members of the pararescue brotherhood. They graduate from training dedicated to the simple creed: these things we do that others may live. Pararescue—It's a Fine Madness Volume One—Through the Looking Glass By Martin F. Caldwell iUniverse Copyright © 2015 Martin F. Caldwell All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4917-3787-3 CHAPTER 1 PROVING THE NEED 1943 CHUBAU, INDIA AUGUST 1943 FLIGHT LINE The crew of the olive-green C-46 'Dakota' transport prepared their aircraft for departure, under the blazing sky. Weeds and scruffy clumps of grass and such that grew unkempt around the runway had long since withered from the blistering heat. Equipment crates, supplies and personal luggage of the seventeen passengers had already been loaded and secured. Six men, clean shaven, with polished low top shoes and in freshly cleaned uniforms, stood away from the aircraft speaking in hushed tones. Two wore their issued .38 caliber side arms in well-polished leather holsters. The others had placed the handgun, its holster and belt in their luggage. The heat of the day had well begun to droop the well turned out creases of the group's trousers as they waited for the arrival of the two General Officers and their aides who remained in the relative cool shadows of the Airdrome Operations building. Under the left wing of the Dakota several other men squatted in the limited shade, their pottage of soiled uniform parts, well-worn lug soled boots, floppy jungle hats and several days' growth of beards. Their hair was shaggy, and too native to be close to military regulation. Another group lounged against the large pile of baggage and canvas rucksacks that had obviously been worn torn repaired and worn into battle once again. Many of the rucks sported tears and holes that had been stitched with anything available from jungle vines to the hair of whatever animal was available. All these men were armed. Their weapons were as dissimilar to another as the men's attire and the cobbled hoard of equipment. However, If one looked closely they would also see that every sidearm, carbine, and the Sten guns were cleaned, oiled and loaded. The one constant in the melee of uniforms, equipment, and weapons was that every man carried a Kukri secured somewhere on his person. It The Kukri was known to many people as simply the "Gurkha blade" or "Gurkha knife", and its inward curved blade, was the 'up close' killing weapon of choice of the feared and respected Gurkha Army of Nepal. The boisterous tenor of the men's voices and occasional laughter relaxed. But, this group was well ready for the six-hour flight over the worlds' highest and most treacherous mountain range not affectionately referred to as, 'The Hump' and for another incursion into Japanese occupied China. The Second World War had now been raging now for over four years. The Japanese were holding strong over much of China, and the rest of Asia. It had become necessary for the allies to fly in nearly all of the supplies and materials needed to support the Chinese Army and to support military operations. That meant flying from scattered bases in the remote and desolate provinces of Northern India, over the inhospitable and uncharted territory. And some of it still occupied by headhunters. The aircraft were in a slow and steady climb to twenty five thousand feet to clear the snow capped peaks and bypassing Mt. Everest. Then the aircraft dropped from the oxygen starved altitude and began a meandering route into China, where hopefully the worst that was waiting were enemy anti-aircraft gunners with large supplies of ammunition. If navigation was correct, if there were no problems with the airplane, and if the enemy didn't manage to send them flaming into the ground, the crews of the 3rd Airlift Squadron could have their cargo into Chun King and be back to Chubau in about seven days. Then the cycle repeated. Momentarily, the young Air Corps pilot interrupted his final inspection of the large aircraft, wiped a trickle of sweat from his face, then he returned to his examination of the right engine. It had run rough on the way back and the ground crew had spent the night changing it out for a 'newer' relic, scavenged