
In the early 1940s, the U.S. Army was experimenting with the concept of parachuting as a method to deploy soldiers. The Parachute Test Platoon, consisting of 50 members, was the first to seriously test and refine parachute techniques.
Stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia, they endured intense training in the summer heat, donning parachutes alongside their standard equipment. After training, many would unwind by heading to the air-conditioned Main Post Theatre to watch a movie.
One evening in August 1940, the film showing was the Paramount western, Geronimo, which depicted the life of the Chiricahua Apache chief and leader.
After the movie, they had some beer. And after the beer, as is often the case, came a bit of boasting. On their walk back to their bunks, the group started chatting about their upcoming jump—their first one as a team. Most of them only had a few solo jumps under their belts, and many were feeling nervous. Private Aubrey Eberhardt, a tall, 6-foot-3 soldier from Georgia, claimed he wasn’t worried. This big jump was nothing to him.
The others teased him relentlessly. They were all anxious, and they knew he was too—he just wasn’t admitting it.
Finally, Eberhardt gave in and revealed his plan: to show them he wasn’t scared, he was going to shout “Geronimo!” as loudly as possible when he jumped out of the plane.
The next day, he jumped, and the entire platoon heard him shout “Geronimooooooo!” The rest of the soldiers weren’t about to let Eberhardt have all the fun, so on the following jumps, they all joined in, adopting his battle cry. A tradition had begun. The next year, the Army’s first official parachute unit, the 501st Parachute Infantry Battalion, adopted “Geronimo” as their motto on their unit insignia after their commander reached out to descendants of the real Geronimo to ask for their permission to use his name. (The chief’s real name was Goyahkla. Geronimo was a nickname that referenced his fierceness when fighting Mexican soldiers who prayed to St. Jerome.)
After World War II, Army leaders decided to stop the mid-air shouting, fearing that a yelling paratrooper could give away their position during operations. However, the extensive media coverage of the paratroopers during the war kept the “Geronimo” shout alive in the public’s mind. Aubrey Eberhardt’s boastful yell lives on.