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Parachute Building... (Vol. II No. 36, 21 Oct. 1944)

Rigging Parachutes

"Frenchy" Quick grabs shrouds as others prepare to pack chute.

Base Photo Lab - Cpl. Perry

 

There are all kinds of riggers in all types of employment, ship riggers, clothes riggers and parachute riggers, but the only ones who can fold 65 yards of silk and hundreds of feet of nylon suspension lines into a little pack which will fit in a good sized hip pocket are parachute riggers. And that is what they are doing the the biggest part of the time. If they aren't busy folding them, they are inspecting or repairing chutes.

Lt. Joseph Fawell's Parachute Rigging department of the 3rd Echelon is composed of eight persons, 7 women and one lone GI. Two of the seven women are Wacs, Pfc. Fernande Quick and Pvt. Virginia McCoy. The lucky GI is Sgt. Harold Southward.
Riggers are made—it takes months of practice to take 24 suspension lines, 12 on a side, and weave them thru the retainer loops so when they are unraveled they won't get tangled—parachutes are one thing which are seldom returned for refund because of unsatisfactory performance. The HAVE to be right the first time.
Chutes are inspected every 10 days by each squadron's own rigger for external damage. Every 60 days the chutes are returned to the 3rd Echelon riggers for complete inspection and repacking. If any holes or tears are found they are repaired if not more than 12 inches long. Anything larger has to be returned to AGP (or AOCP) for replacement.
Sgt. Southward's biggest gripe is the way chutes are mistreated on the line. Whenever a spot, gas or grease, is found on the precious silk it has to be carefully laundered. We can't do any advertising in the Tailwind, but they use 99 44/100% pure soap (so help us, that's what the TO specifies.) Washing a 65 yard hunk of silk is no laughing matter, and yet personnel are prone to sling their chutes on a greasy floor, forgetting that oil possesses penetrating qualities.
Each chute is composed of four parts: canopy, the silk balloon; pack, shrouds, retainer loops and container; harness, which straps onto the most important part—the guy whose life may depend on the successful operation of the chute. Monetary value of the chute is $163, but the materials, silk and nylon, are almost irreplaceable. Nylon has replaced silk, to a large extent, in the canopy itself for the same reason that rayon adorns the shapely underpinnings of the fair sex instead of nylon. There just isn't enough silk to go around.
Southward is something of a hero to his little flock. It's Harold this and Harold that, all day long. He recently returned from 26 months in the So. Pacific so he doesn't mind. Three and a half of Harold's six years of army life have been spent in the AAF.
The foreman of the civilian workers if Gladys Trekell who holds a CAA riggers license and has spent several years as an instructor at the Tyler Parachute School. Her home is in Okla. but three of her co-workers are natives of Pratt, Hattie (Billie) Willis, Lavona (Babe) Wymer and Edith Eichenour. The fourth, Lucy Tincher, hails form Trousdale, Kas.
Pfc. Fernande (Frenchy) Quick, WAC, is not only a good hand with a chute but she is right handy when it comes to sewing on stripes for lucky GIs. She gets the moniker Frenchy because, strange enough, she comes from France—or did some 20 years ago. Her home is now in Chicago. She isn't ashamed of the fact that she is Grandma to two US citizens.
The other WAC rigger has a vivacious smile and is called Mac or Ginny, take your pick. Eight months ago Pvt. McCoy joined the service from Jackson, Tenn. and she still has a slight Southern accent which doesn't detract in the least from her popularity.
According to Ginny's sentiments, and it is shared by the other riggers, it is the best department on the field and she wouldn't want to work anywhere else. Claims she likes PAAF, too.