The Last Flight

by Liefer, Gregory P. ; Liefer, G P;

  Unaware of what was transpiring in the cockpit, Bril began motoring the cable upward. He watched the basket slide sideways slightly over the ground as the tension increased. Clear of the ground the basket began spinning again. He let the motion continue until the load was only a couple feet below the helicopter.

  Stopping the hoist with a push of the button, he twisted the cable with his hand, aligning the basket parallel with the fuselage. He then continued bringing in the cable until the basket was beside the cargo door. Using the other finger button on the control, he swung the boom back inside and lowered the basket to the floor.

  Once the hoist was complete, Bril felt a sense of relief. “Basket is in. Hoist’s secure. Closing the door.”

  “Roger. We’re on the go.” Shultz motioned out the windshield in front of Ferguson. “Keep the same power and push the nose forward to accelerate. Straight ahead until we’re clear of the ridge. Nice job, both of you.”

  Ferguson smiled. “Thanks.” Passing sixty knots he turned and began heading north through the valley. The cloud base was lower now, allowing a climb of only a few hundred feet before leveling off.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The helicopter circled and came to a high hover over the ridge, the Red Cross symbol clearly visible on the nose. The survivors watched in awe, transfixed by the machine and the helmeted figures inside. For most, this was their first time seeing a helicopter up close. They stared with wind stung faces and blowing hair, cold and shivering, afraid to move for fear of changing whatever fate had in store for them. One of the girls said it looked beautiful. Another commented the silhouette resembled a salamander. No one argued with either assessment.

  An eternity seemed to pass before they saw the hoist being lowered. A broad shouldered crewman wearing a flight suit and jacket sat in the attached basket. Boxes and several bags of gear were positioned between his legs. When he reached the ground, he quickly unloaded the cargo and detached a long board from inside. He waved at the survivors, grabbed as many bags as he could carry, and approached the wreckage.

  Their exhilaration disappeared a moment later when the helicopter retrieved the hoist and flew away. Only after the medic removed his helmet and explained the crew would be back in a few minutes, did their enthusiasm return. Smiles and handshakes quickly followed. Two of the men hurried to retrieve the rest of the gear. They knew the worst was over.

  Captain Sanders was the first to introduce himself to Steiner. He provided an explanation of the crash and the situation leading up to the helicopter’s arrival. Other brief introductions were made as they proceeded inside the wreckage.

  Steiner looked around the interior and began triaging the injured, prioritizing them for treatment and transport. The retired nurse assisted him. She had done a nice job caring for the injured, considering the lack of medical supplies. The large first aid kit and rescue/trauma packs he brought with him were immediately put to use.

  Steiner was able to send a situation report to the helicopter and begin prepping the injured for transport within a few minutes. Each would be loaded by their level of priority. The seriously injured would go first, along with the nurse, who could assist on the helicopter while Steiner prepped the remaining injured at the crash site. Reluctant at first, she agreed when he explained the hoist procedure required him being on the ground.

  Next would be the four girls. The remaining adults would be transported on the second helicopter, provided the other medevac arrived in time. If not, and the weather was still good enough, they would go on a second lift with his helicopter.

  The unconscious first officer was the closest when Steiner entered the wreckage. He was positioned near the cockpit and covered with a pair of thin airline blankets. A seat cushion had been placed under his neck for support. Gauze bandages were taped over his forehead and around a wound in his calf, the last partially hidden beneath a tear in his dark slacks. His white shirt was stained with dried blood from the head wound.

  Steiner left the bandages in place and removed the blankets, then pulled back the already unbuttoned shirt. Mildred briefed him while he performed an examination.

  The raspy breaths, shallow breathing, and broken rib, told him Mildred’s assessment was correct. A punctured lung was causing the labored breathing.

  Equalizing the pressure in the lungs was the first priority. Steiner cut away the undershirt and then used a large gauge intravenous needle, or IV, to pierce the rib muscle and tough chest membrane. He was aptly familiar with the procedure after treating a number of similar combat injuries.

  The needle was pushed through the latex finger of a surgical glove and inserted between the ribs. A slight popping sound signified the passage through the chest wall and surrounding membrane, followed by a hiss of escaping air as the needle entered the lung, equalizing the pressure. A piece of surgical tubing was attached to the end of the needle with the glove hanging over the end, acting as a flutter valve. This allowed the lung to expand and contract properly as the patient breathed.

  The first officer’s improvement was immediate. Steiner finished by taping the tube securely in place and then covered his torso with a heavy wool blanket he brought with him from the helicopter.

  While Mildred inserted an IV and started a solution drip, Steiner continued prepping him for transport. Since there was head trauma and a possible spinal injury, Steiner attached a rigid cervical collar, or C-collar, around the first officer’s neck. A backboard and litter would also be necessary before moving him, but for the moment he was satisfied. The first officer’s condition was critical. He would go out on the first load.

  Steiner moved to the next injured survivor and knelt beside him with his trauma bag. The balding man’s injuries were obvious. Wooden splints placed on the fractures were crude but effective. One of the pant legs was torn and bloody, the protruding bone wrapped loosely with a folded shirt. His name was Ralph, and he was Mildred’s husband.

  They made eye contact and Steiner introduced himself. In spite of his stoic demeanor, the man’s eyes couldn’t hide the pain. Aside from the fractures, there were no other injuries.

  “Glad you could join the party, soldier. I’d get up to shake your hand, but that’s not an option right now.” He forced a smile and raised his arm part way in greeting.

  Steiner wasn’t entirely surprised by the patient’s response. He had witnessed the best and worst of emotions while treating a variety of injuries during his career. The human spirit was amazing in both strength and weakness. Trauma never affected everyone the same way. Some tolerated the worst of pain with humor and grace, while others couldn’t handle a minor injury without an emotional display of suffering.

  “Yes, sir. I never miss a good rescue. You relax now. We’ll get you fixed right up.”

  The man winked at Mildred, his wife. His eyes were moist from the pain, but he grinned as if broken bones were nothing more than an annoyance. She patted his arm lovingly.

  Steiner gave him a dose of morphine, and in seconds the pained expression was replaced by one of euphoria.

  The injured legs needed better protection before transport. Steiner withdrew two air splints from his trauma kit and set them on the floor. They were more effective than fixed or wooden splints, designed to stabilize arm and leg fractures by inflating a protective membrane around the injured limb. Steiner carried several in each kit. They were important components of any medic’s gear, and he had them in place within a few minutes. Ralph’s condition was serious. He, too, would go on the first helicopter.

  A muffled curse of anger welcomed Steiner as he knelt by the obese man dressed in expensive slacks and a silk shirt. An Armani leather jacket was draped over his chest for warmth. On his left wrist was a Rolex Submariner watch and around his neck a roped gold chain. He was well tanned and smelled of expensive cologne.

  “I think my back’s broken. You need to get me out of here. I’m going to sue this damn airline if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “I’m Sergeant
Steiner, sir. I’m an Army medic and I need to check your injuries and ask some questions, then we’ll see about getting you out of here.”

  Mildred explained his back injury before he could lapse into another tirade. This one would be a real struggle to move, Steiner realized. The man had to be close to four hundred pounds. Carrying him to the hoist site would be extremely difficult with only four men. For the moment, he needed to stabilize him. He’d worry about moving him later.

  Steiner felt along the man’s neck and spine and had him move his head and limbs to check their range of motion. There was no pain other than in his lower back. The man cursed under his breath and then thankfully remained silent.

  Only one C-collar remained from Steiner’s medical gear. Normally he would use one for a back injury, but the location of the man’s pain and range of motion indicated a minor risk of paralysis. He decided to save the collar until the other injured survivors could be assessed.

  Steiner asked a few more questions before retrieving the morphine bottle from his medical bag. Because of the man’s size, he used a larger dose.

  The man relaxed almost immediately. His eyes dilated, and he lapsed into a quiet demeanor. Mildred’s eyebrows raised, and she smiled with a look of satisfaction, disappointed the medication hadn’t been available earlier to shut him up.

  “Is Harold going to be all right?” A nicely dressed woman with stylish hair and meticulous makeup slid closer beside the obese man.

  “I’m his wife, Marla Connover.” She had remained silent until now and appeared worn out from the trauma of the crash and the ordeal of tending to her husband.

  Steiner looked at her with a reassuring expression. “Yes, ma’am. I think so. They’ll make sure once he gets to a hospital. Until then, he needs to be as stationary as possible. He’s stable and there’s no immediate concern. Is he in good health, otherwise?”

  She looked surprised. “What? I thought with him being overweight and having … well, you know, his injury might be serious.”

  “I don’t believe so. Probably just a pinched nerve, but we’ll be careful and stabilize him before he’s moved. Does he have any other medical concerns, heart disease, hyperten …”

  “No,” She stated deliberately, interrupting Steiner’s question. “At least none he’s told me about, and he’s always very specific. I’m sure everything he told you is accurate.”

  In reality, her husband was a chronic diabetic, but she kept the fact to herself. She wasn’t surprised her husband omitted telling the medic about his disease, one he most certainly construed as making him less of a man. Power, money, and self-esteem were his primary concerns.

  Further back in the cabin, an older woman with short ivory colored hair was lying on her side, barely enduring fits of sharp pain. Her shoulder and hip were throbbing from being thrown against the side of the fuselage. She managed a weak smile as Steiner approached.

  “Check on my husband first. I’m okay for the moment.” She was insistent and Steiner did as asked, nodding to her in reply.

  Her husband had lost a large amount of blood from a deep puncture wound in his side, below the ribcage and had been slipping in and out of consciousness since the crash. He had thinning hair and wore a bright polo shirt with beige khakis. The shirt was stained crimson around the torn fabric. A metal rod protruded from the opening. Gauze was packed around the base of the rod and taped in place.

  Steiner checked his vitals and had a plasma bag supplying fluid in his arm within minutes. He removed the old gauze and treated the puncture wound with a strong antiseptic. A clean dressing was placed around the rod and secured. Some foam padding from one of the torn seats and medical tape was used to protect his side. The last C-collar was used to immobilize his neck.

  Steiner sat back with his knees on the floor and checked the man’s vitals again. The dark hair and thin mustache reminded him of a character in an old black and white movie. Steiner wrapped him in a wool blanket and nodded to Mildred. His condition was critical, but for the moment he was stable.

  He, too, would need a backboard and litter for transport.

  “Okay, miss. Your turn.” Steiner spoke warmly as he repositioned beside the injured, woman. “I understand you have a sore shoulder and hip.”

  “Sore might be an understatement.” She grimaced in pain. “How’s Bill. Is he okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He’s injured, but we’ll get him to a hospital as soon as we can.”

  “Please take good care of him.” She became more concerned the more she talked, causing more pain.

  Steiner tried diverting her attention. “Only the best, ma’am. We’ll take good care of him. Mildred tells me you once worked in a publishing house. What was that like?”

  She told her story while Steiner checked her shoulder and hip, trying to be gentle. The shoulder was heavily bruised, but he didn’t think the bone was broken. Her hip was either fractured or dislocated, but without an x-ray he couldn’t be sure. Immobilization and pain medication were the best options until she arrived at a hospital.

  Steiner padded and taped the hip securely. A small dose of morphine seemed to ease the pain and worries about her husband. Her condition was serious but not critical.

  Steiner motioned Mildred closer so they could talk in lowered voices. He pointed at the unconscious man with the puncture wound. “This man’s the worst, but I don’t want him to be loaded first. If he stops breathing, one of us needs to be there with him.”

  “Okay,” whispered Mildred. “How do you want to prioritize them?”

  “Your husband’s first. I don’t want anyone stepping on his legs and causing further injury. Once he’s out of the way we can move the others.” Steiner looked her in the eyes reassuringly. “I’d like to send you next if you’re up to it?”

  Mildred glanced toward the front of the cabin. She was reluctant and felt uneasy. “What about the first officer and the man with the foul mouth?”

  “Mildred, you’ll be okay,” Steiner spoke softly, touching her hand. “You can do this. The first officer isn’t stable. I need you in the helicopter before I send him up. The crew chief—the guy running the hoist—will help if you need assistance.”

  She frowned and reluctantly agreed. “If you insist. I’ve never liked helicopters, you know. Don’t think I like airplanes much anymore, either.”

  Steiner suppressed a smile. He squeezed her hand in thanks. “After you go, I’ll send the first officer. This gentleman will follow.”

  She glanced at the man’s wife, Mrs. Delucci, who seemed content for the moment with the dose of morphine.

  Steiner knew what Mildred was thinking. “She’ll go after her husband. The big, mouthy guy can wait. He’s in no danger, and I’ll need several strong bodies to move him. I’ll need another spine board from the helicopter before I can move him, anyway.”

  “You know I’m supposed to be retired,” Mildred stated half in jest.

  Steiner shrugged innocently. “Medics and nurses never retire. Taking care of others is in our blood.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “How you feeling?” Shultz asked Ferguson. “You want a break?”

  Ferguson thought for a second. He was still sweating from holding the helicopter in position but otherwise felt good. “No, I’m good. I’ll fly awhile longer. You can take the controls when we head back to the crash site.”

  “Sure, but keep an eye on the number two engine temp.” He pointed a finger at the gauge. “The temperature started running hot while we were hovering above the ridge but has dropped some since. Bril, you do any maintenance on the number two engine lately? The oil level looked fine during preflight, but something isn’t right.”

  “No, sir. After the last training flight, I added half a quart to the tank. The level was a little low but nothing out of the ordinary. Everything looked good on the daily inspection.”

  “All right, we’ll keep watching. I don’t like the high indication though. If the engine shits itself while we’re in the m
iddle of a hoist, we’re screwed.”

  They flew only a few miles before Steiner’s voice, barely recognizable, was heard over the UHF radio. Static and wind noise in the background were distorting the usually clear tone. “Evac One, Medic One, commo check, over?”

  “Receiving you slightly broken but readable, Medic One,” Shultz responded. He kept his hand near the radio selector switch while he waited for an answer.

  A pause ensued as Steiner knelt out of the wind behind a boulder. “I have you loud and clear on my end. Making contact with the survivors now. Expect an update in a few minutes. Medic One out.”

  “Roger, Medic One. Standing by.” Shultz switched back to the FM radio. He glanced at the engine temperature again and noticed a slight decrease. The indication was still higher than normal, but diverting from the mission wasn’t an option. The weather was worsening every minute. He estimated less than an hour to get the survivors off the mountain.

  “Operations, Evac one-one-four, over?” Shultz wasn’t surprised at the lack of response. A good distance remained before clearing the higher peaks. He waited until they climbed another five hundred feet before trying the VHF radio. “Fairbanks Radio, Evac one-one-four on one-twenty-two point two, over?”

  There was no answer. He switched to the emergency guard frequency, hoping another aircraft might pick up the transmission. “Any aircraft on one-twenty-one point five, Evac one-one-four, over.” He hesitated a few seconds. “Any aircraft monitoring emergency guard on one-twenty-one point five, this is Army Evac one-one-four. Please respond, over.”

  Shultz shook his head in disgust. Time was critical, and they were wasting what little they had trying to make radio contact. He needed to send an update so additional aircraft could be notified of the crash location. If they didn’t reach the survivors in the next hour, the opportunity of a quick rescue would be gone. The only hope was the other Evac helicopter had already launched.