My one-phrase rundown: often astounding tales that will mostly appeal to a certain thrill-seeking crowd.
That Others May Live was written at roughly the same time as The Rescue Season , the end result being something akin to the cinematic experience of suddenly noticing three new movies about gladiators, or the Civil War, or asteroids hurtling towards Earth. Generally speaking, the topic of both books is the specialized US Air Force rescue units known as PJs (parachute rescue = pararescue jumpers = PJ), comprising some 300-400 people at any one time. The primarily PJ mission is to recover stranded military personnel overseasand often as not behind enemy lines. In addition, however, they are called on for civilian missions both in and out of the US.
I found it fascinating that the PJ primary mission is to save lives, not take them, unlike the perhaps unspoken but traditional roles of the better-known members of the SpecOps community (Navy SEALs and Army Special Forces such as Green Berets and Rangers). I was further intrigued by harrowing mission tales that I heard about years ago, and in particular, how these virtually unheard-of soldiers were reputed to the some of the toughest guys around. According to one account by a former Navy SEAL, Indoctrination – the initial weedout training for PJs at Lackland AFB near San Antonio – was physically and mentally more demanding than UDT/BUD/S school. They wash out 90% of the class and there have been times when no one graduates Indoc. Since PJs are the last hope of a downed pilot who may die or be captured without their help, the USAF reasons, PJs have to be unwilling to give up. Period.
After graduating Indoc, PJs quickly go through the Pipeline, a succession of training schools that other soldiers sometimes wait 10+ years to complete. The Pipeline includes everything from paramedic-level medicine to combat diving to free-fall and skydiving to mountaineering. Since the US government has people everywhere, PJs are trained to operate in every environment on earth to rescue them: deserts, oceans, mountains, jungles, and space (well, ok, PJs sometimes help recover astronauts after splash-down).
Because the community is so small, the books overlapped and involved to some degree the same individuals. Sometimes missions from the 1990s are told from two slightly different perspectives in the two books, dependent on which PJ the author interviewed.
That Others May Live follows the life of John “Jack” Brehm, a PJ who was involved with the so-called Perfect Storm of Junger fame. Of the two, this is the better-written book, in my opinion. While recounting the unbelievable adventures he endured, he also manages with the help of journalist Pete Nelson to sound believably human. That is a tall order when writing about some of the things that PJs do for work and play.
The Rescue Season follows the adventures of the Alaskan-based 210th, the only PJ unit dedicated almost entirely to civilian rescue (Denali provides much practice in terms of extreme rescues and PJs stand in line to transfer to the 210th). The fun part here was that the PJs work closely with the Denali Park and Preserve staff; the mountain-rescue parkies described in the this book were a far cry from most of the people I knew in my 11 years with the National Park Service – adrenaline junkies and ex rodeo-clown mountaineers. I am more convinced than ever than I need to make it Alaska before I die, if nothing other than to meet some of these people.