Alive and Alone

by W. R. Benton

  “Fine John, I’ll leave the acceptance of the mission, or the declining up to you.”

  “Well, send your man over after I call back and we’ll see what we can do about getting the good doc out of the woods.”

  “Alright, Zee.” Colonel Wilcox put the phone down and wondered where the Air Force came up with good men like Zlotkowski and his crew. They were always ready for the dangers and challenges of a rescue mission, regardless of the risks any time.

  When Sergeant Donaldson entered the colonel’s office with some routine messages, the old sergeant gave the Wilcox the eye, grinned and said, “With all due respect sir, but you look a complete mess. Why don’t you go and get some sleep and let me hold the fort down?”

  Wilcox yawned, rubbed his tired eyes and replied, “I’ll do that sarge and I’ll be at my home if you need me. Also, get a weather check every four hours from the weather guys. Any break in the weather coming, you call me immediately regardless of the time of day. Oh, and when Captain Zlotkowski calls, let him speak to Parker. I want Parker to go to the alert shack and give Zee’s crew a mission briefing on the Wade plane.”

  “Yes sir, I’ll keep a close eye on the weather for you and I’ll pass on to Captain Parker to expect a call from Captain Zlotkowski.”

  Wilcox picked up his fatigue cap and left his office. He was near the door to the main building when he heard a voice call his name and turning he noticed it was General Moores.

  “Frank, I was just returning to my office from a staff meeting, do you have a few minutes?” The general asked as he gave Colonel Wilcox a very sober look.

  “Sure sir.” Frank Wilcox replied and then thought, what does he expect me to say when he wears two stars and wants to see me? I have little choice, I’d say.

  As they entered the general’s office the senior officer said, “Close the door and be seated Frank. This conversation, well, let me say it’s not one I want to have with you. The search for Doctor Wade and his son will have to be called off by the end of the week. I got a message in from the Search and Rescue Center at Scott Air Force Base and they have two reasons for calling this to an end.”

  Wilcox waited, knowing the senior officer had more to say, but dreading every single word he would hear.

  “First, the survival experts don’t think those two could survive in this kind of weather for over ten days, and that’s how long it will be this Friday. Furthermore, they pointed out to me that as the rescue proceeds we are using up valuable fuel, time, and resources. I know that you are of friend of the Wade family, but Frank we have to draw a line and the four star general at Headquarters Air Force has drawn it for me.” The general spoke slowly as he walked to the window with his hands locked behind his back and looked out at the falling snow.

  Colonel Frank Wilcox didn’t comment, he simply closed his tired eyes as he wondered how he would be able to tell Cathy Wade.

  “Come on, Frank, what’s on your mind? I’ve known you too long not to know you have something to say.” The general said as he walked to his desk and sat down in his oversized chair.

  “General Moores, has this all been coordinated with the Civil Air Patrol and the civilian volunteers who are involved with the search?”

  The older man met Frank’s eyes and replied, “No, of course not. I wanted to explain it to you before I informed anyone. You’re the best I’ve ever seen in the rescue business Frank and I mean that. But, don’t let your personal involvement with this missing man and his family cloud your judgment. You and I both know that in search and rescue the most important time is the first forty-eight hours and with each hour after that the chances of finding a survivor alive goes down.”

  “Sir, you and I are both flyers. You know as well as I do that there are times when folks have lived much longer than ten days in the bush.”

  “Frank, this is not like a combat search and rescue mission where we quickly fly in and recover the man, or he gets captured within a few hours by the enemy. While James Wade was a good pilot, he didn’t have near the flying time either of us has and, I hate to say this, it’s more than likely they are both dead. My God, Frank, it must be twenty below out there right now!”

  “But, I have the general’s permission to search up until midnight on Friday, is that correct sir?”

  General Moores gave a dry chuckle and as he spoke his eyes turn stern, “You can do that Frank, but on one condition. I want no aircrew lives put in danger with this mission. If, and I mean if, the weather breaks you can launch your birds, but no launches in bad weather.”

  Frank stood, saluted the general, and did an about face to leave the room. Just as he was reaching for the door, he heard General Moores say, “Frank, I’m sorry about this. I know how hard it must be for you, and if I can help in any way, just let me know. Now, go and get some rest, you look like something two cats dragged it.”

  As Frank Wilcox drove home he kept thinking, I’ve only got five days left to find Jim and Dave. I won’t tell Cathy Wade about the deadline until Thursday, because if I tell her now it will just cause her to worry more. Why in the world did I ever get into this business? A few miles down the road, he answered his own question as he thought, because sometimes we save lives.

  Frank kissed and hugged his wife, glanced briefly at the mail, and took a long hot shower. Quickly changing into his pajama’s he ate his dinner at the kitchen table as he talked about the rescue in general terms with his wife. One thing Frank had learned after almost twenty-five years of marriage was to keep his work to himself, or at least the dangerous or critical aspects of the job. He didn’t want her to worry and he for sure wasn’t going to tell her about his discussion with General Moores, because he was just too tired to try to explain the logic behind the decision for the deadline.

  He finished eating and taking his coffee, he walked to the sofa in front of the fireplace. He placed his tired feet up on the coffee table. As the fire cracked and popped, he wondered if Jim or Dave were still alive. He knew Jim was no quitter and Dave was cut from the same cloth, because the boy had always done well on any hunting trip. Listen to me, if you both are alive, or even just one of you, hang tough, because I’m coming for you as soon as I can, Frank thought as he raised his coffee cup to his lips.

  By the time Carol had showered and dressed, Frank was asleep on the sofa. She covered him gently with a blanket, turned the television down low, and curled up beside him. While Frank had not said anything she knew the military was about to call the search and rescue mission off because of weather and besides, she’d been married to the man too long not to know when something serious was on his mind. But, anyone would have serious doubts of finding survivors after weather like this. You’re a good man and I know you’ll hate breakin’ the news to Cathy, but you’ll do it if it comes to that. That’s one of the things I love about you Frank, you always do what is best, whether you like doing it or not, Carol thought as she picked up the remote and started channel surfing.

  CHAPTER 8

  DAVID DIDN’T KNOW the snow had stopped a little after midnight, because he had fallen asleep shortly after his prayer. For an hour or so, even the moon was out as it peeked through the cloud cover. While Dave slept, a small pack of wolves moved silently across the soft new snow, drawn to the smell of well over a hundred pounds of dried meat the young boy had in his shelter. The wind had died down, though the temperature was still well below zero, and while the snow had quit, it was only for a short while.

  The dried moose meat was in the back of Dave’s shelter. He had packed the meat in the remains of three slightly burned sweaters from his shelter fire, to protect it from the wet snow. This night he was actually using the meat as a rough pillow as he slept. The young boy awoke as his head hit the snow and it took him a few seconds to clear the grogginess of deep sleep from his mind. Seeing movement near the entrance of his shelter, he glanced at a motion and instantly recognized the form of a wolf.

  David saw one of his sweaters of dried of meat in the wolf’s teet
h, so the young man reached out with both hands and grasped the garment. Instantly there came a low growl from the hungry wolf and the animal began to rock its head from side to side in an attempt to pull the meat from the young man. Dave pulled with all of his might and the sweater suddenly pulled free, but he fell on his back and lost his grip on the meat.

  Remembering his rifle, David reached for the gun just as the big wolf bared his teeth, gave another low growl, and quickly snatched the sweater full of meat. As the animal turned to run away, Dave brought his rifle up, but due to the darkness, he was unable to see his sights. “Give me back my meat!” The boy screamed as he pulled the trigger on the rifle and exited his shelter.

  David saw a few pieces of dried moose meat laying in the snow, so he quickly picked them up and put them in his butt-pack. He had never considered an animal would be out in the snow like this, mainly because when he had gone to sleep the snow was falling hard and fast. The wolves, along with his sweaters of meat, were now long gone, into the countryside. Glancing around, he saw no blood on the snow, so he knew he’d missed the hungry animal when he’d shot.

  Now, what do I do? He thought, as he kneeled by his dead fire and quickly started making a new one, I have no more meat. I should have thought of wolves, but I didn’t and the mistake cost me dearly. All that work just to let a pack of wolves have it!

  As he built his fire, he remembered what one elderly hunting guide had said to him one night when they were up north looking for caribou. One evening during the trip, David had heard the long drawn out howl of a wolf and he had asked the man if wolves ever attacked people. The old guide had grinned and said, “Well, now, son, not that I’ve ever heard tell of, but I’ve only lived in Alaska for nearly fifty years. I do know though, a wolf will steal you blind of any meat you leave laying around or other foods not in a sealed container. And, a pack of wolves is a fearsome sight to see and I’ve seen lots of ‘em, but I’ve never heard of a wolf pack ever attacking a healthy man. I suspect if that man was almost dead they might attack ‘em, only I ain’t real sure. All that stuff you see in the movies ‘bout fellers out campin’ and the wolves attacking is pure nonsense, boy.”

  David added a larger piece of wood to his fire and thought, No, they didn’t attack me or even try to hurt me. The wolves only wanted my meat. From now on, if I get any more meat, I’ll have to hang it up high in a tree or guard it all night. And, I need to keep my rifle where I always know where it is. If that had been a grizzly bear instead of wolves, I might be dead right now.

  It was close to an hour later before the young man grew sleepy once more and made his way back inside his shelter. He placed his rifle at his right side, wrapped up in his blanket, and promptly fell asleep. No sooner had David closed his tired eyes than the snow started to fall once again and the fire snapped and crackled as the wet snowflakes struck.

  Morning dawned extremely cold with snow still falling. The flakes were falling slowly and the wind had all but died completely. David stood, stretched, and made his way to his snow covered and dead fire. Within a few minutes his fire was burning well, a canteen cup of pine needle tea was boiling, and the young man nibbled on one of pieces of dried moose meat he had been able to save. He glanced up at the sky and knew there would be no rescue aircraft out in the thick overcast clouds above. I’ll eat, drink my tea, and then be on my way again. I hope the place where I saw the smoke is not too far away, because I only have a little food left, he thought as he stirred his tea with a clean piece of wood.

  As soon as his skimpy meal was finished, David packed his blanket in his butt pack, and started his way down the mountain. If he was lucky he’d be at the base before noon, then all he had to do was cross a few miles of open country and he’d be where he’d seen the smoke. While he walked, he wondered if the smoke was from a lone trapper, or perhaps a small village of natives. He knew in Alaska it could be either and it would not have surprised him to discover the smoke came from a trapper who also happened to be a native. If you named a group of people in Alaska, each of them had some that trapped, worked as hunting guides, or fishing guides. David thought about native Alaskans for a few minutes as he made good time going down the trail.

  In his school, there were some natives kids and Dave had always gotten along well with most of them. Some of the kids he’d known had given the native Alaskan kids a real hard time and he could not really understand why. As far as he was concerned, he had seen no big differences in any of the kids he’d gone to school with. Well, of course, some were of different colors, or some spoke a different language at times, but the real differences as far as he was concerned were small. He asked his mother about it once at the breakfast table.

  “David, most people, regardless of their color or language are looking for the same things out of life. Now, some may place more importance on certain things than others do, but overall we’re all similar.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean.” David said as he picked up his fork and took a bite of his egg.

  “Well, all people have a basic desire for food, clothing, shelter, friends, and a good job. But, some may want to have more money, so they might be tightfisted over spending too much, so they can save. Others, perhaps, may stress the importance of a healthy family and then control what foods they eat or even force the whole family to exercise. Some, like ours, may want a church or temple to be part of their lives and they may be very active in religion.”

  “I think I understand, but I get confused at school when some of my friends won’t let someone else in our group because they're a different color.”

  His mother laughed, leaned forward and asked, “Do you think the color of a person makes them good or bad?”

  “I am not sure what I think.”

  “David, there are all kinds of people running around in the world today. There are good people and there are bad ones. Each race has its fair share of bad and good people. Always remember to judge a person by their behaviors and not by their color. See, the attitude of judging based on color goes way back, long before America was discovered. Surprisingly, that ugly attitude applies in all races and it has happened in all countries. In some countries years ago, if you were not of the dominate color, then you were either a slave or looked down on. It didn’t matter what color the majority were either, black, white, Asian, all of them did it.”

  “Is that why the Civil War was fought?” David asked, thinking he finally understood.

  His mother gave a warm laugh and replied, “No, not just for that reason, I guess. The issues behind the Civil War are complex and hard to explain over a quick breakfast. But, slavery was only one of the issues, just as states’ rights were, and you are correct about the importance of color in those days. Anyone who was not white was considered a slave or looked down on. It still happens is our society today, only it’s covered up very well and not as open. I think you just saw some of it at school with your friends. You, young man, just remember that each person has a soul, can think, has feelings, and deserves your respect until they do something wrong. Now, eat your breakfast and be out that door in a few minutes for school, or you’ll be late.”

  As Dave walked and thought over the conversation, he realized his mother was right. He was sure anyone, regardless of their color or the language they spoke, would want the same things he did right here and now. They would want food, shelter, warmth, and to be rescued. The more he thought about it the more he realized his friends had been wrong in judging people as they had. He could understand how a group could only want others like them in the group, but that didn’t make the group right. Dave almost slipped and fell at that point, so he concentrated on his trail and quit thinking about others.

  The young man walked from the mountain near noon and faced an open snow covered plain. Pulling his compass from his fanny pack, David watched the black arrow spin and then stop, pointing north. While not anywhere near an expert with a compass, he did know how to use one to a certain point. As far as Dave was concerned,
it mattered little that he didn’t have a map, because he didn’t know how to read one anyway. The dial had numbers on it and by looking at the numbers, if the compass needle pointed to the north, he had a heading or so he thought. When he’d been on the mountain, he had taken a compass heading of the smoke so he moved off on a west by north route.

  His compass, which he had stuck in his right coat pocket, fell from his coat as he bent down to tie his boot laces a few minutes later. They young boy didn’t notice the loss for over an hour when he stopped to take another reading. He frantically searched for the compass, but it was not there. David considered going back for it, but when he turned to look at his back trail the wind and blowing snow had covered most of his tracks, so he knew the compass was long buried in snow.

  Most the day David kept his heading as well as he could. With the low clouds, the only way he could keep his bearing was to keep the mountain he had been on in view and at the same location. By keeping the mountain over his left shoulder, he knew he was still heading the right way. My mid-afternoon the snow started falling heavily once more and it became too difficult for him to continue walking, but since he was still in the open, he stopped to consider a shelter. I guess I’ll have to make a snow shelter of some kind, he thought as he looked around and quickly noticed there were no trees, hills, or any natural shelters he could see. He had made a snow trench once with his father in the back yard.

  Using the aluminum sled he’d had his moose meat on, he scooped some snow out and made a long trench about three feet deep. He widened it, so it was almost two feet wide and six feet long, but he didn’t have a top to keep the snow out. He paused when the task was completed and wondered, how do I cover the top of this thing? There isn’t a tree for miles and I only have my casualty blanket. I can’t use the blanket, because I’ll freeze without it. I know! I use blocks of snow!