The hoist was already out the door and on the way down for the first patient.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Lisa was the first to see the helicopter return. She stood, ignoring the wind, staring into the distance for signs of movement. The young dog leaned against her leg, sensing her anticipation.
She stroked his neck, then yelled and pointed over the glacier. “They’re coming back! I see the helicopter. Over there. They’re coming back!”
The sound of the helicopter was muffled by the wind. The sleek fuselage moved quickly through the cold air, passing over the center of the valley on a course toward the crash site. Only when the powerful machine flared on short final could the high-pitched whine of the engines be heard.
Survivors outside the wreckage pointed and shouted over the wind as the helicopter came into view. Their eyes eagerly followed the approach with each passing second. They were huddled together from the cold, each wrapped in a heavy wool blanket the Army medic had brought with him. One of the girls hurried inside to tell the others.
For some, the wait for the helicopter was even harder the second time. Even though rescue was close at hand, they realized the injured would go first. They wondered if there would be enough room for all of them or if another helicopter was on the way.
Only a few thought of the consequences of the worsening weather. No one noticed the clouds had dropped several hundred feet in the short time the helicopter was gone.
Steiner received a call when the helicopter was a minute out. Shultz emphasized the need to hurry.
“Time to go. You ready?” Steiner gently squeezed the shoulder of the injured man with the broken legs. He didn’t expect an answer and was surprised when he nodded his head in acknowledgment.
Steiner motioned to the passenger grasping the front of the litter. They lifted in unison and carefully moved toward the plane’s doorway.
Sanders stood to the side, letting Bidwell and the medic carry the load. Both were strong and easily moved with the injured man. Once outside, Simms grabbed a corner of the litter beside Bidwell, helping steady the weight. Kwapich took the other corner position beside Steiner as they moved cautiously over the rough terrain. In a short time, they had the litter at the pickup point.
The basket arrived a moment before they did. The bottom scraped across the ground before coming to a complete stop. Slack was added and Bril waved from the hovering helicopter to proceed.
Steiner gave brief instructions before they set the litter inside the rescue basket and strapped the board in place. He had to yell over the sound of the engines. He knelt beside the aluminum frame and wrapped one end of the blanket already tucked in the litter around the patient’s head for additional protection. The rotor wash immediately pulled at the fabric, trying to pull it free.
The men with Steiner moved away from the swirling winds biting at their exposed skin and thin clothing. He remained and donned his flight helmet left next to the basket. Flipping down the visor, he glanced up and saw Bril leaning out the open door, waiting for the signal to begin the hoist.
Sanders watched the helicopter hover over the pickup point. He stood in the doorway of the wrecked plane, grateful the medic was taking charge. He was weak from his own injuries and the mental strain of keeping everyone focused but wasn’t about to let his fatigue show. Once everyone was safe, he could rest. Until then, the survivors were still his responsibility.
Someone brushed against Sander’s shoulder. Susan peeked out the doorway while trying to shelter her face from the wind, squeezing his good arm in a reassuring gesture.
“Rescue is only a matter of time now.” She spoke loud enough to be heard over the sound of the helicopter. “I had my doubts for a while.”
Sanders nodded then motioned toward the injured passengers. “Once they’re aboard, the rest of us can leave. We couldn’t have done this without you.”
Susan shook her head in denial. “Everyone did what needed to be done.”
“Maybe, but you did your part with a smile and charm. You helped us relax and stay focused.”
She lowered her eyes without speaking and patted his arm in thanks. Directing her attention back outside, she noticed the rescue basket leaving the ground on a rapid ascent toward the helicopter. The load began spinning beneath the fuselage. The medic moved to the side and watched for a moment, then turned and stepped toward the wreckage, pulling a hand-held radio from his jacket.
Steiner took a deep breath. The sense of relief was only temporary. There was still much to do. He hadn’t been sure what to expect when he first arrived. The number of injured was a surprise after observing the extent of damage from the air. He anticipated far more fatalities.
The amount of survivors was the only positive outcome of the crash. Getting them off the mountain wouldn’t be easy. The passenger’s combined weight and limited space on the helicopter would only allow half of them in one load. Shultz’s ability to make another trip or the chance of a second helicopter arriving was still in doubt.
*******
Holding the helicopter at a fixed point over the ridge wasn’t easy for Shultz. His hands and legs remained tight on the controls from constant corrections, reacting with less finesse in a battle against the swirling wind. Subtle inputs were not an option against the strong air currents hammering the helicopter. The t-shirt under his flight suit was already damp with sweat.
Bril leaned out the open cargo door, watching the ground while guiding the cable with his free hand. The basket came down within a foot of where Steiner and the others were waiting. Bril was quick to pass corrections to the pilot as they drifted. His position directly above the basket provided the best view for judging movement.
Steiner and the men moved quickly to unfasten two empty litters from the hoist. Bidwell carried them away while Steiner and Kwapich helped position the injured man in the basket. He was wrapped in a heavy blanket with air splints around his legs. Bril watched patiently, waiting for the signal to start the hoist.
The speed of each lift was determined by how quickly the load could be attached and the pilot’s ability to maintain a fixed position over the ground. The lift was also at the mercy of the winch, which could only operate at a certain speed.
Bril and Steiner were a good team. Steiner was more experienced, having multiple rescue hoists under his belt. He was an expert at getting the basket loaded and hooked correctly to the cable in a minimal amount of time. Bril was equally adept at operating the hoist. His sharp vision and ability to judge speed and distance made up for his lack of experience.
Steiner used one hand to hold the metal ring attached to the harness of the basket and the other to guide the cable’s hook assembly into the ring, ensuring they locked together.
He confirmed the equipment was secure by jerking sharply downward. The hook and ring remained locked. He signaled Bril and stepped away, letting the hoist lift the basket free of the ground.
“One patient coming up. The man’s wife is next.” His voice was distorted by the wind as he spoke through his hand-held radio. “She’s a retired nurse. I want her aboard so she can assist with the two critical patients.”
Ferguson could see Steiner standing near the wreckage with his back to the wind. An older woman stood beside him, looking up at the helicopter with apparent apprehension.
“Roger,” Ferguson answered. He turned and watched Bril as the basket was pulled inside.
The temperature display for the number two engine was climbing. Ferguson kept a sharp eye on the gauge after Shultz took the controls, his uneasiness growing with each incremental increase.
“Number two engine is running hot again. The indicator bar is near the top of the green. Pressure’s unchanged.”
Shultz was already aware of the change. He stole an occasional glance at the gauge in spite of his attention being focused outside. “We might have to call this off. Let’s get as many aboard as we can before the temperature hits redline. Bril, how we doing?”
“A
nother ten feet, sir.” Limited by the speed of the hoist, he was forced to slow the cable as the load neared the underside of the fuselage. From there, the basket was carefully maneuvered between the door and external fuel tank. Once abeam the door, he swung the boom holding the basket and patient inside.
Bril moved as quickly as he could without needlessly jarring the patient, unhooking the metal ring of the basket and unfastening the straps holding the litter. Removing the litter from the basket was the hardest part.
He slid a corner onto the lowest rack of the carousel, repeating the maneuver with the opposite end while pushing the device all the way in on the rack. Straps were then attached to the side to hold the device in place. The last empty litter in the helicopter and three backboards were placed inside the basket before being reattached to the hook. The procedure took less than two minutes.
“Patient’s secure. Basket is loaded with remaining equipment and going back out.”
“Okay Bril. Keep them moving.” Ferguson stated. “Let’s hope this engine doesn’t crap out first.”
Glancing at the temperature, he noticed the indicator was at the top of the normal range. Only minutes remained before the limit was exceeded. The emergency procedure was clear, and he quickly went over the steps in his head.
Shultz offered an opinion that did little to ease their uncomfortable feeling. “I sure as hell hope the temperature sensor is sending faulty information. Otherwise, things will get ugly real quick.”
“You want to break off now?”
“No. Not until we absolutely have to.” Shultz’s voice was firm with determination. “It’s my ass in the sling. I might lose my pilot position, but if we rescue the critical survivors before the weather sets in, the reward will be worth the risk. Sure hope I don’t have to pay for the repairs.”
Ferguson knew he was being honest. Damaging a multi-million dollar helicopter was never trivial, especially when the pilot knowingly violated regulations. The safety of the aircraft and crew were always the priority. The loss of a helicopter, especially because of bad judgment, would have serious repercussions.
Ferguson didn’t worry about the consequences. His only thought was about the survivors trapped on the ridge, with no chance of rescue except the lone helicopter and a wish for delay in the deteriorating weather. “I’m with you. I’ll back you up.”
Shultz glanced over at his copilot. He nodded his head in thanks. After a long pause he spoke. “Get Connor on the radio. Give him an update to send to Flight Operations. Then see if he’ll reposition to our location.”
“You think he can land on the ridge?” Ferguson stated in surprise.
“I don’t know, maybe. No harm in him taking a look. He’s a damn good pilot. He might see something we missed.”
Ferguson frowned. “You can’t land a helicopter where it won’t fit, without breaking something.”
“There’s another option. If our engine craps out, I think maybe we can rig our hoist inside his helicopter. We’ll have to find somewhere we can land together. What do you think, Bril?”
Bril had remained busy with the hoist but monitored the conversation. “Don’t know, sir. I don’t have any experience with UH-1s. Don’t know if our hoist mount is compatible. The attaching points and wiring might be different. The install could take some time.”
“From what I remember the attaching points are the same.” Shultz paused, picturing the hoist assembly. “Both helicopters use identical mounts. You might be right about the wiring though. Worth a try if our engine fails.”
The statement didn’t elicit a response. None was necessary. They each knew the option was there if needed and concentrated on the task at hand.
As Bril watched from above, the second person was positioned in the basket. The woman didn’t require a litter and sat at one end with her legs extended. The basket jerked as the bottom lifted off the ground, causing her to flinch and hold on tighter. She seemed frightened at being hoisted fifty feet in the air by a thin metal cable and kept her eyes closed through the ascent. Her arms were wrapped tightly around the support straps, and her legs were pulled up to her chest for protection.
Ferguson pressed the transmit button. “Nine-two-seven, Evac one-one-four. You still with us?”
The answer was almost instantaneous. “Roger, go ahead.”
“Request you pass another update to Flight Operations. One patient is aboard, another hoist in progress. Engine problems require a possible abort of the mission. Other injured still on the ground. We need the standby crew on station as soon as possible, over.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Connor processed the information. An engine problem during a hoist could be catastrophic, especially over a high pinnacle in the mountains void of a level landing area. He thought of asking for clarification and then decided to wait. Forwarding the message was the priority.
“I copy. I’ll relay through eight-three-zero. Standby.”
Ferguson could only hear Connor transmitting to dead air. Monitoring the other helicopter was impossible with the high terrain masking the signal. He waited, allowing enough time for the message to be confirmed and then sent a second transmission. “Nine-two-seven, one-one-four again. Can you relocate to our location?”
There was no hesitation. “Affirmative. What’s the status of your engine?”
“Number two is running hot. Don’t know how much longer we can maintain our hover, over.”
Connor didn’t like the copilot’s response. His voice had a hint of anxiety, reflecting more than concern over a hot engine. At their altitude, with only one operable engine, the helicopter had insufficient power to maintain flight. They would have to find an emergency landing area or limp back to base on the remaining engine, provided it could handle the increased load. Neither option was acceptable for the survivors stuck on the mountain. He figured Shultz must have an idea and wanted to check the crash site for himself, anyway.
“I’m on the way. Should be there in a few minutes. I’m at the north end of the valley, just off the face of the glacier. I repositioned closer to your location since eight-three-zero is nearing the foothills.”
Shultz exchanged a look of approval with Ferguson. “He always seems to be in the right place at the right time.”
“Basket’s coming in,” Bril announced. He pulled the frame inside until the weight rested firmly on the floor, not surprised to see the nurse breathe a sigh of relief.
On the way up she forced herself to open her eyes. She squinted, stealing a peek at the ground. A moment later her eyes shot wide open when the hoist slowed below the fuselage. Once inside, she glanced around the cabin, then at Bril, waiting for instructions.
“You’re okay now, Miss.” He yelled over the sound of the engines. Extending his hand, he helped her out of the basket and into the crew seat.
She immediately bent forward to check her husband, grasping his hand out of concern and relief at being free of the basket. He smiled through glazed eyes. After a few seconds she patted his hand and slid back into the crew seat.
Bril handed her a headset, which she placed over her ears. “You hear me okay?” He looked into her wide eyes for confirmation.
She tried answering but couldn’t hear herself speak and nodded her head instead.
“We’re glad to have you with us. I’m Specialist Brilnesko. Call me Bril. Place the microphone so the front touches your bottom lip and press the black button on the cord to talk.” He pointed to each item. “Okay?”
“Yes, I understand, young man. Call me Mildred. What would you like me to do?”
“Basket is going down.” Bril lifted the basket and swung the boom out as he continued talking. “Mildred, I’m going to let the copilot, Mister Ferguson, brief you while I’m busy with the hoist.”
Ferguson turned in his seat, facing Mildred as he reached back to get her attention. “Hi, Mildred. Monitor the patients as they come aboard. Take care of them, just like you did on the ground. You’re our onboard medic, okay
?”
She nodded in reply, looking back at Ferguson, then around the cabin again as if searching for something in particular. “Where is your medical equipment?”
“There’s a small first aid kit and a trauma bag in the red cases below the platform in front of you. A stethoscope and other medical instruments are inside the larger of the two. There’s a defibrillator in the bright orange case below your seat. If you need to use it, Bril can help, but the instructions are written inside. Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, stay seated. Okay?”
Mildred seemed more at ease once her familiarity with the medical equipment kicked in. She reached for the cases before he finished talking. “I know how to use them, young man. You just keep this machine in the air.”
“Ahh … yes, ma’am.” Ferguson replied in a broken voice, unsure of what to say. He noticed Bril smirking before turning forward in the cockpit.
In the short time Ferguson diverted his attention, the engine temperature increased above the normal range. A segment light on the caution panel illuminated, notifying the pilots of the fault.
The caution panel contained small, rectangular segment lights, which when illuminated, identified a specific problem in the aircraft systems. A separate master caution light was activated in conjunction with the segment lights, designed to attract immediate attention from the pilots, who would then check the caution panel for the specific problem.
Shultz was aware of the light before Ferguson but waited until he focused back in the cockpit and saw the fault for himself.
“Reset the indicator.”
Ferguson immediately reached over and pressed the reset button to extinguish the master caution light. This allowed the light to illuminate again should another system fault occur and didn’t interfere with the operation of the first segment light. He glanced at Shultz, waiting for a response.
Instead, Shultz addressed Bril. The tension in his voice was noticeable. “How much longer on the next hoist?”
“Almost on the ground, sir. Steiner is moving another patient into position. Three minutes, maybe more.”
The Last Flight Page 21