The F4 Phantom jet was loosing altitude. The pilot radioed in his location. He was ‎many miles away from the coast over the ocean. Only that morning he had ‎heard a maritime forecast that predicted storm lashed waves reaching heights of twenty ‎feet. He braced himself for the shock he knew was coming. He pushed the eject ‎button on the control panel. The canopy over the cockpit flew open. The wind, for the ‎plane was still traveling at 250 miles an hour, tore the canopy off its hinges. Beneath him ‎there was an explosion as the rocket booster under his seat ignited. The impact of the ‎rocket booster was as if a giant sledge hammer had struck him terrific blow on his spine. ‎He went shooting a hundred and fifty feet into the air above the plane, accelerating so fast ‎that he momentarily fainted. When he came back to consciousness, he felt a sharp pain in ‎his legs and backbone. He pulled the ripcord of his parachute. It opened up and slowed ‎his descent. He had little time to collect his wits; when, through an opening in the clouds, ‎he saw the frothy white caps of the waves beneath him. He hit the water with a splash. ‎The water was unbelievably cold as he tried to catch his breath. The parachute full of ‎wind tried to drag him across the waves and then collapsed into the water. He pulled a ‎strap on a compartment on the back of his flight suit and a small life raft came free and ‎automatically inflated.‎