Reinhardt found the American parachute he was operating quite clunky. It was like a good German parachute, but to his alarm when he noticed it while reaching for the ripcord, completely lacked a reserve chute.<br/>"Mein Gott!" was all he could manage against the whipping of the winds gravity drug him through faster than any human had a right to go. Scrabbling a bit, he finally did pull the ripcord, the slight light that had been dissipating from his clothing now gone....Such had been his alarm, that he had pulled his chute a bit too late, and many of the new world's curiosities had passed him as only a blur.<br/>Holding onto the thick canvas and denim assembly for dear life, he found himself grinding his teeth in anxiety. The ground was coming up too fast! Realizing there wasn't much he could do about it, he curled his legs beneath him to properly land and somehow managed to keep his eyes open for the impact.<br/>KRAAK! The sound itself was less of a shock than the exquisite pain that it represented. "Schiesse!" Was all that he could find within himself to scream. Later, he would find it strange how people always reverted to their native tongue when in the panic that pain brought on. Right now however, Reinhardt rolled to look at his ankle and see how bad the break could possibly be, so sure that he had broken his leg.<br/>As the parachute settled over his heapish form, he began chuckling to himself, as his shaky hands withdrew his level from his boot in several pieces...the fear washing from his conciousness as the heavy off white canvas drowned out the world...