Corporal Brightman drew alongside him. “Cheer up Sir, we’ll be back before you know it. Lieutenant Taylor’s got us out of much worse spots than this. To be honest I’d take a mysterious structure any day over 50 Taliban charging me with Kalashnikov’s firing. But I guess you might know something about that n’ all. Lieutenant says you was in Iraq?”
He smiled ruefully “Corporal Brightman you’re right on both accounts. I was in Iraq and yes there are worse places to be right now - Afghanistan and Iraq both falling into that category”.
He and the Marines entered the transport plane through the loading bay doors at the rear of the plane. They then made their way to the front of the aircraft where the passenger seats were located in two rows, one on either side of the plane. In between the rows of rather basic seats the snow tracks had been loaded along with their carrier units. The carrier units were normally used to ferry equipment around, but they could also be converted to carry people, which is what they’d be used for when they reached their destination.
Once everyone was on board Lieutenant Taylor jumped in and using an instrument panel at the rear of the plane closed the loading bay doors. Sergeant Tucker double checked the locking mechanism and while he moved to sit up near Joe and Corporal Brightman Lieutenant Taylor joined the pilot in the cockpit. The pilot came on the PA and went through the normal spiel of introducing himself as Captain Jackson and that he was happy to be flying them this fine morning etc. etc. He then introduced Lieutenant Taylor as his co-pilot who would be running through the safety briefing. Lieutenant Taylor came on the speaker and asked everyone to “fasten their seat belts and not to bother checking under their seat for their life jackets as there weren’t any and nor would any oxygen masks drop from the ceiling in the event of a loss of air pressure”. The Marines laughed in a way that indicated that this wasn’t the first time they’d heard this. The plane then started to taxi along the temporary runway. He glanced out the window and saw Greg and his team standing by the transport hanger. They’d been up early this morning giving the runway a sweep but even so the pilot still accelerated the plane quickly. The idea being to spend as little time on the ground as possible thereby minimising the risks of hitting something or conversely if you were in a combat zone being hit by something. The short take off experience was a bit hairy the first time but he and the others were expecting it and none of the Marines looked even slightly bothered. As they took off Corporal Brightman passed him a packet of Wrigley’s’ Extra “to help with the pressure”. He was only too happy to take one as his ears began to pop and they ascended rapidly into the cloud cover. “Cheers Corporal Brightman. Good timing”.
“Any idea how long until we reach the drop off Dr Harper?”
He tried to remember how long it had taken when he’d made the trip a couple of months ago. “It’s less than 2 hours but if the pilot’s not happy with the first landing strip he’ll take us to another one further to the east. That would be a bit of a pain though as it adds another 75 Km to our journey.”
Corporal Brightman nodded his head. “Ok well I’m going to get a bit of shut eye – if there’s one thing I learnt in Afghanistan its sleep when you can - you can’t be sure when you’ll next get the chance.” At that he closed his eyes, put his head back and seemed to drift off almost immediately.
He saw that most of the other Marines were doing the same, though a couple of them had got out a pack of cards and were quietly playing some version of brag. He thought about trying to emulate Corporal Brightman, especially given he hadn’t slept that well the night before. Unfortunately though he drifted off into a bit of a doze he couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he should have done before getting on the plane. For a start he hadn’t even bothered to send an email to his parents or his brother back in the UK saying ‘just in case I don’t see you again…..’ he guessed if he didn’t get back they’d infer all they needed to anyway – and hopefully say a few nice things about him at his funeral. Though they weren’t exactly close his Mum and step Dad John had been pretty decent when he’d split with Jessica – they’d never really liked her anyway. His step Dad had always referred to her as “your townie lass” until they’d got married and afterwards he just referred to her as “your wife”. Yorkshire men like John didn’t give their friendship away lightly. His mother had always wanted him to marry someone local and then settle down and give her the grandchildren she’d always wanted. In the end she’d had to wait for his half-brother Tom to do just that. His mother adored Tom’s children, his nieces, and was always round at their house helping out with the childcare duties and spoiling them rotten. He and Jessica were never going to be able to compete with something like that, especially as Jessica’s career as a Public Relations Executive was pretty much an anathema to his mother. As a Yorkshire ‘lass’ from a farming background she called a spade a spade and in this particular case a public relations executive was to her ‘a glorified saleswoman’, which was in fact an accurate description of what Jessica did but when said to her face didn’t endear his mother to her. Their visits back to his home town had been infrequent and when he’d gone up to tell them he and Jessica had split up his parents had been sympathetic but he could tell they weren’t too troubled. His mother had even ‘unexpectedly’ run into a good friend of hers and her ‘lovely’ (and single) daughter within a couple of days of his staying with them.
He’d gone back to London a couple of days later to find Jessica had moved her stuff out. As most of the furniture, pots and pans, pictures knick knacks had been hers the flat initially appeared to have been burgled. Left in the flat was an old chair, the TV, a microwave oven and some plastic cutlery in an otherwise empty kitchen drawer. In the bedroom, as well as his clothes, were a couple of cardboard boxes containing his rock collection – the collection which had never been deemed fashionable enough to be put on display when they were together. He’d sat in the battered old chair turned on the television and watched six episodes of Red Dwarf back to back. It turned out there were some benefits to being a relationship phoebe after all. When a few days later he’d been asked if he wanted to continue his research in Antarctica he hadn’t hesitated. This time he could go and do what he loved unburdened by the guilt of leaving his poor and not so lonely wife behind.
A sudden burst of turbulence bounced him around in his seat. The shift in the planes trajectory also woke up most of the other Marines. Corporal Brightman remained firmly asleep. Lieutenant Taylor came on the speaker to let them know they were making their descent to the first landing site. The Lieutenant explained for the benefit of the rest of his men that if the landing site didn’t seem good enough they’d move on to the next. His warning however appeared to be unnecessary. After a first pass the Captain seemed happy enough to land the plane and though somewhat bouncier than a normal landing they were soon on the ground in one piece. Lieutenant Taylor came out of the cockpit and he and Sergeant Tucker got the loading door open. Joe and the Marines started getting into their cold weather gear. Perhaps expectedly he got into his somewhat quicker than they did and he made sure to go down the line giving the soldiers some pointers about how the snow suits were worn best in terms of maximising warmth and in accommodating the large packs each of them seemed to be carrying. Lieutenant Taylor then opened a couple of green boxes and started handing out Army issue rifles. Though he paused to look at the weaponry for a moment he simply sighed and went back to packing his stuff into the back of the first snow track. ‘Did he really think 30 Marines were going to investigate a mysterious structure in the middle of a previously unoccupied desolate landscape unarmed?’ Once the Marines had exited the aircraft he got in the first snow track and started backing it out. Lieutenant Taylor had already asked him to do this for all three of the tracks. His skills were undoubtedly greater than the rest of the team and reversing a two tonne track with a carrier unit attached to it down a steep ramp wasn’t exactly easy. Once he’d got all three out he’d been asked to take the lead in the first tra
ck while the other two would be driven by Corporal Brightwater and a sprightly Private named Jimmy Wentworth who spoke like he’d just stepped out of an episode of East Enders. Corporal Brightwater had driven tractors for most of his life on his parents’ farm and Jimmy had been a fork lift truck driver in a previous existence. Corporal Brightwater’s tractor experience was definitely of value driving a track but Joe wasn’t sure whether Jimmy’s experience would be much use. Nevertheless once all three tracks were out Jimmy seemed to get the hang of the track pretty quickly.
Given the temperature was about -20 the Captain of the transport plane didn’t want to be on the ground for an extended period of time and before long he was taxiing for take-off. As the plane took off to return to Halley Lieutenant Taylor and Sergeant Tucker were getting the men inside the tracks’ carriers. Though the carriers now had seats and a rudimentary electrical heating system run from the engine he knew it would still be pretty chilly – especially if they were in there for extended periods of time. In addition each of the carriers were carrying two metal drums full of the diesel they’d need to make it to Amundsen-Scott – and, hopefully, back to their present location. Though the drums were sealed the smell of diesel always leaked out and he didn’t envy the soldiers in the carrier at all.
After the men and equipment were loaded he set off in the lead track accompanied by Sergeant Tucker. Lieutenant Harper took up the rear with Corporal Brightwater while Jimmy and a Lance Corporal Edwards, commanded the middle track. The idea was that he would lead them across the plateaux in 4 hour shifts, separated by 15 minute ‘leg stretch breaks’ for the men. Originally Lieutenant Taylor had suggested the breaks be used so the men could go to the toilet but Joe had pointed out that if they relieved themselves in anything below -30 they were liable to freeze their John Thomases off. The men hadn’t seemed so keen on doing this and each carrier had therefore been hastily furnished with metal canisters purloined from the transport plane. After 8 hours the group would stop and put up a cook tent to ensure the men got something to eat. This was actually quite important as replenishing the calories they’d lose while trying to keep warm in the carriers would help ward off hypothermia.
He’d discussed the route with Lieutenant Taylor but given they were already well away from the coast and on the central plateaux, it was more a case of figuring out distances and sticking to the tracks’ satellite navigation systems. He’d also brought his maps as the sat navs weren’t infallible especially when the weather came in and there was always the possibility of needing to make a diversion around a particularly tricky area of terrain. On a previous trip he’d previously come across miles and miles of ice extrusions, which after the wind had weathered round the softer ice left a landscape of large concrete like lumps every couple of metres. Traversing these areas in a snow track was virtually impossible. Though the tracks could handle gradients up to 40 per cent lumps of ice above 50 centimetres definitely meant you had to go round.
Everything seemed to be going fine when he stopped the track after the first four hours and Lieutenant Taylor squeezed into the cab to have a quick chat.
‘So Dr Harper so far so good. Any problems from your side?’
“Nope everything’s fine, how are the boys holding up in the tin cans?”
Lieutenant Taylor replied. “A few grumbles about the cold and the smell but they seem pretty much ok.” Sergeant Tucker laughed – “sounds like the same old complaints except now they’re too cold as opposed to too hot”. Joe smiled as he remembered being stuck in the back of a super-heated personnel carrier on the way to a drop off in the desert.
“So Dr Harper we’re not too far from where we’ve previously lost contact with the flight from Rothera so keep your eyes peeled. I’m also thinking of putting a couple of guys on the snow mobiles we loaded into the last carrier – how long can they stay out in their snow suits?”
He frowned. “Well to be honest Lieutenant on a snow mobile a few hours, but that’s driving at about 10 mph - we’re currently averaging about 40, which the snow mobiles can match but the wind chill at that speed will mean they’ll only be able to manage half an hour at most. Probably best to send them out when we cross over this 500 mile limit and then only if we spot something. The weather’s been good so far and visibility is good enough that we can see 3 miles to the horizon anyway.”
Lieutenant Taylor nodded in agreement. “Ok let’s do that”. The Lieutenant then got out of the cab and jogged back to the third track.
Joe could see that the men who’d exited the carriers after they’d stopped weren’t going to need the full 15 minutes stretching their legs - most of them had got back into the carriers apart from a couple of hardy smokers. He revved his engine and with that the final stragglers got in and he moved off again.
30 minutes later Lieutenant Taylor came on the radio to tell him what he already knew which was that they were approaching the invisible line of what he’d come to view as the ‘line of no return’. Up until this point they could simply turn back to the landing strip, call up the transport plane and return to the relative civilisation of Halley Station. He stopped the track and got out. Lieutenant Taylor also got out and started getting the men in his carrier to unload the two snow mobiles. The two Marines who were going to be riding them put on their suit face masks and goggles. He went over to see them.
‘Ok guys so this isn’t going to be too pleasant. Though the temperature isn’t too bad this time of year when you get the mobiles up to speed you’re really going to feel the cold. Don’t breathe through your mouth unless you need to and keep both hands on the steering column – it’s best if you remain seated – keeps more of your body heat in – less exposed areas and all that. If you feel yourself becoming sleepy or overly alert call us on the radio and we’ll get you back inside the carriers. We’ll try a 30 minute shift to start with and then swap you over ok?’
The two Marines gave him a muffled “yes sir” and then got on the snow mobiles. He gave a thumbs up to Lieutenant Taylor who was shutting up the back of the carrier unit and went back to his own cab. Picking up the radio handset he pressed down on the transmit button.
“Ok Lieutenant Taylor you all set. Do you have radio with your guys?”
“Yep thanks Dr Harper everything good to go – one small step for man and all that - see you on the other side.”
Despite his best instincts to turn around and drive back the way they’d come he put the track into gear and moved forwards. Two miles later the sat nav unit packed in. He didn’t think it was a fixable fault. It was too much of a coincidence that it had stopped just as they were reaching where contact with the Rothera plane had been lost. Something was obviously interrupting the GPS signal. Lieutenant Taylor came on the radio again “Dr Harper can we stop here for a moment. I’m going to send in a report to Major Sanderson over in Rothera. Digital comms is out, same as the GPS but long wave still appears to be working. Anyway give me 5 minutes and I’ll see if our orders get changed.”
He spent the next 5 minutes hoping that the order would come for them to turn back as his brain screamed danger danger to him. Nevertheless he’d been in the Army far too long to think they wouldn’t be continuing. Sergeant Tucker obviously agreed with him as he spent the next 5 minutes telling him in his best Glaswegian that the chances of their orders changing ranged from nil to nil. When the radio sprang back to life they were both proved correct. Lieutenant Taylor informed them “So the report’s been sent off. I also had a quick word with Major Sanderson. We’re to proceed as previously ordered with ‘active caution’ being our watch word. I’m going to swap the snow mobile drivers over and then we move forward on the same line as before – will your maps get us to Amundsen-Scott Dr Harper?’
He found himself saying “Yep maps plus the compass I brought with me will do the trick”.
The snow mobile drivers arrived back and were quickly switched over. He moved the track onwards and told Sergeant Tucker about some of the landmarks to look out for – the
se landmarks were normally pretty subtle given the seemingly never ending white expanse they were passing through. Nevertheless in this weather it was still possible to spot one or two changes in elevation and a couple of rock features. They soon passed where he estimated contact with the plane had been lost and they encountered no further issues. In fact 30 minutes later he was beginning to think that maybe his fears had been unfounded, that was until he spotted a column of black smoke rising from somewhere off to the left. Lieutenant Taylor had spotted it as well. The Lieutenant’s voice carried an inflection that reflected a degree of concern which he was obviously attempting to repress. “Dr Harper lets head towards that smoke I want to have a look; I’ll send the snow mobiles on ahead.” “Sergeant Tucker, Lance Corporal Anderson I think it might be time for the boys to lock and load.”
O-Negative: Extinction Page 11