by W. R. Benton
He wrapped the casualty blanket around his body, leaned back against the log and watched the snow falling. At some point, he must have fallen asleep, because when he next opened his eyes the wind had picked up and the snow was falling with greater force. Glancing around he noticed the snow was at least two inches deep in places and from the looks of the storm, he was sure to get a lot more. Part of the blanket had fallen open as he had slept and he suddenly felt chilled. Adding another log to his fire, he moved back under the protection of the lower limbs of his pine tree shelter.
He suddenly remembered the last fishing trip he’d gone on with his father. They’d driven from Anchorage to Ninilchik, Alaska, and done some halibut fishing. The water had been rough, but the fish were feeding and they'd had a great time.
“I got a fish on, dad!” David yelled with excitement as he felt his line suddenly go taunt and watched the tip of his rod start to dance.
“Keep the tip up son and reel him in slowly.” He dad spoke in his usual calm voice, but David knew his father was excited too.
“Do you need help son? Some of these halibut can go three hundred pounds or more.” The boat captain asked as he walked over to where David was struggling with the fish.
“No . . . I want to . . . land this on my own,” David replied almost out of breath as he fought the heavy weight at the end of his line.
It took David about twenty minutes to bring the fish to the surface and he was surprised when the boat captain reached down and struck the fish on the head with a club. After pulling the fish in with a gaff, the captain proudly said, “You have a fine catch son, well over sixty pounds.”
“David, I’m proud of you. Just think, you did it all on your own too without any help at all!” His father had said as he placed his arm around David’s shoulder and gave him a big hug.
Suddenly, David felt tears running down his cheeks and he glanced toward the wreckage of the airplane as he thought, Why did you have to die dad? I love you and I miss you. Dad, living like this is so hard for me. I’m trying not to let you down, but I don’t know if I can take much more loneliness and fear.
Knowing he was falling apart emotionally, David got up off the log and sliced some more of the moose meat and checked the meat he had smoking in the tee-pee. Then, he returned to his campsite and placed some of his wood under the large pine he used for a shelter to keep it dry. The young man knew from experience wet wood burned poorly and smoked like all get out. Smoke seemed to always find a path into a person’s eyes and made them water.
It was very late before David finally wrapped up in the casualty blanket on the pine boughs under his tree and drifted off to sleep. He'd had a very rough day and it had taken hours for the fear of the bear’s charge to dissipate enough to allow him to sleep. He had just gone to sleep when he heard a plane flying over and usually he would have rushed to the wreckage, only he knew he would see nothing in the poor light. This time David didn’t even get out of bed and run to the wreckage, he knew he was too late.
Morning dawned cold, but the snow had quit. David saw less than three inches on the ground as he warmed up some pine needle tea in his cup. Today I need to try to get out of here, he thought as the flames from the fire brought his water to a boil. I’ll head toward the smoke I saw and hope it's a native village or maybe a trapper. I can’t stay here, not when I know there are other people around. But, before I go, I need to make sure the smoke I saw is still there. It could have been someone moving through the area and all my walking would then be for nothing. If the smoke is still there later this morning, I’ll head that way before noon.
After a quick breakfast of more moose meat and his tea, David made his way up the side of the mountain. He was very cautious as he glanced around; hoping the big bear had left the area. David also made a lot of noise, hoping to scare the bear if it was nearby. The trail upward was a little more difficult, due to the new snow, but in less than two hours after leaving his camp, David stood on the side of the mountain and could see the thin finger of smoke off to the west. I need to get back to camp, pack up my gear, and get on the trail. I may have to spend a night or two on the trail before I reach where that smoke is located, he thought as he shifted the rifle from his right hand to his left.
Less than an hour later, David had returned to camp, packed up his gear and started moving down the side of the mountain. He had made a rough looking sled from the sheet metal he had used for his fire, along with some rope from the survival kit, so he could pulled some of his moose meat over the snow. Once he reached the flat land, he knew the going would become easier. He quickly located an animal trail that led down the side of the mountain, but it meandered in all directions, which meant it would take him a lot longer to reach the base. The going was slow and he had to be cautious not to slip on the steep trail. The last thing he needed was a broken leg or other injuries.
His right leg, where he’d been cut during the crash of the airplane, was healing nicely and David was concerned about opening it up again if he fell. He thought of his father, still trapped in the wreckage of the plane, but forced himself to concentrate on what he was doing, so he wouldn’t get depressed again. His father wanted him to live, so David decided he’d give it his best shot.
By mid morning, he had still not reached the base of the mountain, as large snowflakes began to fall and the wind picked up. Dark gray clouds were close enough overhead, that David thought he could actually reach up and touch them, but what concerned him the most was the simple fact he knew no rescue aircraft would be flying in such cloud cover. Well, he thought as he stepped over a log on the trail, I’ll just have to move a little faster and get to where I saw that smoke. I’ll need to keep from sweating though, or I’ll be in serious trouble. No, I don’t think Dad or the other guys would be out in this weather. It looks like a storm might be coming, so I’d better find shelter.
David located some protection from the wind back in a thick group of trees and soon had a shelter constructed of pine boughs. Using his flint and steel, he started a fire, sliced off small pieces of moose meat and set it to boil in his canteen cup. The snow was coming down faster now and the young boy knew the temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees since he’d moved into the trees. As he sipped the broth from his meat, he thought, big storm coming. I’m not so sure I made the right decision to move when I did. It might have been smarter to stay near the airplane, but it’s too late to change my mind now. I’ll wait this storm out, and then move toward the smoke again.
The sky grew almost black as the sun was blocked out by the storm, but David had seen it happen many times in the past, though he’d always had a safe place to watch storms before. He was concerned by the storm, but not actually scared of it. He remembered his father telling him in a snowstorm the key was to keep warm, stay dry, and to have a shelter. David had those things, except he was inpatient to be moving toward the smoke he'd spotted. I need to use some common sense here, he thought as he added a small piece of wood to his fire, or I’ll end up dying before I ever see where that smoke came from. I need to keep my head screwed on right and take this slowly.
Four hours later the snow was knee deep, the wind was howling in the darkness, and David Wade was huddle up in his shelter shivering with the cold. While the space blanket kept him warm, he was still cold, but on the inside. It was then he remembered a warning he’d heard over a campfire one night a few years before, “Never sleep in really cold weather with the same clothes on you’ve been traveling in, because they’ll be damp from your sweat. And if you feel super cold inside you need a hot drink.” I don’t have any choice on the clothes matter, David thought as he added some water to his canteen cup and dropped some pine needs in, but I might as well drink something hot. That might help warm me up a little.
Sucking on a single piece of hard candy as he sipped on his hot pine needle tea he stopped shivering and David realized his body was cold because he was running out of energy. He remembered when his class had gone on cross-c
ountry ski meets the teacher always made them take candy along, because the sugar gave each skier an extra boost of energy in the deep cold. He couldn’t remember why the sugar helped, he’d not paid much attention when the teacher explained it, but it worked and for that he was very thankful.
By midnight, the snow had died down, but the temperature was well below zero with the wind-chill. The top of Dave’s shelter was covered with snow and while the inside was not warm by any means, it was much warmer than outside. There was no wind at all inside, so all he needed to do was keep covered up with his casualty blanket. His fire had died hours before and was now covered with freshly fallen snow. The young man had camped in the snow before and he’d made lots of fires in snow, so he knew as soon as it got daylight he needed a small platform of logs to keep his new fire from sinking into the snow once lit. He’d beat the snow down, lay his platform, and then start his fire, but he’d need to keep some other logs around to replace the ones on the platform that burned as his fire burned.
David sat in his shelter listened to the wind howling, and suddenly started to cry. He felt a deep pain when he remembered his father’s warm smile and how he had always understanding with him when he had problems or got into trouble. The young boy shuddered, gave a loud moan, and whispered, “Dad, oh, dad. . . I never thought something like this would ever happen to us. I miss you and I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you.” Then, suddenly he felt an inner sense of pure determination hit him, as if someone had flipped a switch on in his mind, and knew he would survive! He had to survive! David knew at that exact moment his self pity and mourning for his father had to stop until rescue, because he felt close to breaking down.
David, never one to pay much attention in church or Sunday school, raised his head, looked out at the lightly blowing snow and said, “God, you have my father now, so please tell him I'm trying my best to survive. Let him know God that I'm fine and miss him. I know I've not been a perfect person, especially in school or when I fight with Marie, but I’ll try to change if I survive this. I need your help and I need it soon, God, because I'm so alone. Please, help me God. Amen.”
CHAPTER 7
THE SNOW WAS FALLING hard in Anchorage and the temperature was five below zero as David’s mother finished shopping and walked out to her car. As she unlocked the door to her car, she suddenly wondered if her two lost men were safe and warm. She had little concern about their actual survival, if James and David were unhurt, because she’d see her husband in the woods and he was more at home there than in his own home. Cathy started the car and then sat for a few minutes as she waited for the fog on the glass of the vehicle to clear so she could see well enough to drive. As the heater warmed up, she prayed Jim and Dave had a fire and enough protection from the cold to keep them alive. As she had said many times since she had been notified of the plane missing, it’s the waiting that’s the most difficult part, she thought as she pulled from her parking spot, the not knowing one way or the other.
Pulling into her garage, Cathy took the groceries and walked through the door into the kitchen. She immediately noticed the house smelled of fresh bread and the smell had always brought a comment from Dave about how good it smelled. A couple of years before, Jim had bought her a bread machine and at least three times a week Cathy made fresh bread for the family. She remembered sitting the timer on the machine so the bread would bake while she was out. The smell of fresh bread baking always makes a house smell like a home, she thought with a weak smile as she opened the door to her cupboard and started putting her dried and canned groceries away.
She had just placed the last package of meat in the freezer when the phone rang. Cathy hurried to kitchen, picked up the phone and answered, “Wade residence, Cathy speaking.”
“Cathy, Frank Wilcox here. I’m in the command post and we’ve been very busy the last hour or so.”
“Frank, I hate to ask, but anything new?” As Cathy asked, she was not sure she was ready for the answer.
“Some, but not much. A little over two hours ago a commercial airliner flying near where Jim went down reported hearing a emergency locator beacon for a few minutes on the guard frequency. The pilot claimed it lasted for only a minute or two, and then it gradually grew weaker until it died.”
Cathy thought for a minute and they asked, “So what does that mean to us Frank?”
“Cathy, only one plane has ever disappeared in the area we suspect Jim went down. We know where most crashes have occurred in the past and we keep them marked on a map here at the rescue center. It had to be the E.L.T. from Jim’s plane.”
“Does that mean you have good news then?”
Frank Wilcox hesitated for a few seconds and then spoke, “Cathy, what it means is, we have a better idea where the crash site is, or so I suspect. It does not mean that either Jim or Dave survived the crash, only that the emergency beacon came on for a short period. However, the pilot gave us the map coordinates and we know, within a little distance, where the beacon is.”
“What now?”
Frank hesitated, knowing Cathy wanted to know one way or the other, but the weather was so severe his choppers were grounded. Finally, he said, “As soon as there is a break in the weather my men will go out. I actually had to order a few of my pilots not to go out as it is. Jim is a well-liked man, Cathy, and many of my aircrew members know him very well. But, I cannot allow them to fly in a storm like this or I’ll end up searching for some of them as well.”
“Any idea when this weather will break?”
Frank cleared his throat and then said, “My weather guys tell me not before three or four more days. The front is a long one that is moving in from Russia, and they expect as much as forty inches of snow on the ground by the time it quits.”
“T . . . thanks for the call Frank.” Cathy spoke as she realized this storm could end up killing both Jim and Dave.
“Cathy, I promise you, the first chance my boys get to fly they’ll be out and at the location we have from the airliner. I suspect they can be there, inspect the crash site and let us know what they find within two hours or so. Right now, all we can do is hope for a break in the weather. I’ll call you again as soon as something starts to happen around here.”
“Bye Frank and thanks.” Cathy quivered with the news as she placed the phone back on the charger.
Forty inches of snow and the plane down in the mountains! She thought as she stood in the kitchen unsure what to do next.
Colonel Frank Wilcox was concerned. The weather had been bad for the last twelve hours and he knew from experience; even if Jim and Dave had survived the crash, a long lasting blizzard of the sorts often seen in Alaska could kill them both. While the colonel had faith in Jim’s survival skills, even the most qualified individuals could very easily die if the weather got too rough. Knowledge, without the proper equipment could only keep a person alive for so long. Of course, he thought as he picked up the phone, a lot depends on their physical conditions, but he spoke into the phone, “Give me weather.”
“Weather, Senior Master Sergeant Wilson speaking.” The voice from the weather shop answered a second later.
“Sergeant Wilson, this is Colonel Wilcox of SAR, what’s the forecast for the next forty-eight hours or so?”
“Wait one, sir, I’ll check.”
As Wilcox waited, Senior Master Sergeant Donaldson brought him a cup of hot coffee and placed it on his desk. The sergeant knew the colonel had been up all night locating the beacon location on the map and talking to the commercial pilot on the phone. It had taken hours because they had to track the pilot down in a hotel in Tokyo, Japan where he was resting over night.
“Sir, Sergeant Wilson speaking, it’s not very good for the next few days I’m afraid. The next forty-eight to seventy-two hours will be pretty much what we have out there right now. According to Captain Carter, my OIC, the weather might have a slight break about twenty-four hours from now, but that break will most likely last less than four hours.”
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“Thanks Sergeant Wilson, I appreciate the report.”
“Any time colonel and feel free to give us a call.”
As he hung up the phone, Wilcox wondered if the weather break the forecasters were calling for would really happen. Four hours would be cutting it close, but I’ve got to do something. I’ll see if Zlotkowski and Baldwin will fly the mission. If they’ll risk the flight, I’ll give the go ahead, but the weather will have to be clear, he thought as he stood from his chair and stretched his sore and tired muscles.
He picked up the phone once more, dialed a number and said, “Give me Zlotkowski.”
A couple of minutes later a voice said, “Captain Zlotkowski speaking.”
“Zee, this is Colonel Wilcox. I need you and Baldwin on standby starting at midnight tonight. Contact your crew and put them on alert as well. The weather guys are projecting a small window of good weather at about this time tomorrow and it happens, you’re going out to find Doctor Wade.”
“Roger that sir, we’ll be ready to go when you give the call. But, I'll need to send Baldwin over to get what information you have on the crash site, or better yet, could you send your mission planner over with the details? That way my whole crew can listen in on the briefing.”
“No problem Zee, I’ll get Captain Parker to come over in a couple of hours and brief your crew. You call back, speak to Parker and let him know when your crew is at the alert shack. But, Zee, this could be a very dangerous flight and if you don’t want it, when the time comes you tell me, Okay?”
Captain John Zlotkowski laughed and replied, “Colonel, we train for rough missions, so we should be ready for this. And, I promise you, if I think my crew cannot do the job I’ll let you know. How’s that, sir?”