by Eric Flint
Once they were past Schwarza, the grade started a slight rise for the route to Rudolstadt. The plow was throwing a bow wave of snow to each side as the Goose waddled along at a steady twenty-five miles per hour.
"Everything's working fine, Arlen. If I keep it at the high end of each gear, it seems to cut back on the side to side motion. I think you've got enough power to even pull a trailer for freight." Mike was smiling. "I've hardly had to use any sand so far!"
"Don't jinx it, Mike. The worst stretch is on the far side of Rudolstadt." Even though he was trying to sound pessimistic, Arlen could not help but feel optimistic. The Goose was performing far better than he had hoped.
Mike concentrated on potential snow drifts. They were almost in sight of Rudolstadt before the first serious problem area was encountered. The track crossed the corner of an open field where the wind was being funneled to the opening. Mike geared down and started spreading sand. As they hit the drifts, the Goose shuddered as it carved the drift and then broke into the clear fifty feet later.
"That wasn't bad at all," remarked Arlen. "Any problems in the back?" Martin gave a thumbs up after checking with the EMT's.. "We're just about at Rudolstadt. We'll stop for orders and a quick break. Facilities are outside, behind the station. The last stretch will be the toughest, so use the opportunity if you need it."
Ten minutes later, the semaphore signal for Rudolstadt station shone bright red through the swirling snow. Mike pulled up in front of the station and set the parking brake. Walt and Thad quickly busied themselves checking that the ropes holding the stretchers hadn't loosened.
Arlen called out, "Rudolstadt, two minute break!" He turned to Mike, "I've always wanted to do that since I was a kid. I'll be back in a minute if you can hold it that long."
Mike had a quick come back, "I wasn't the one who drank two cups of coffee before we left. I'll mind the store until you get back. Make sure you remember to pick up the train orders!"
Arlen headed out behind the station. By down-time standards, the facilities were luxurious, with ventilation and varnished seats. While the cold kept the odors down, they were unheated, so no one lingered. Arlen was quickly back inside the station to get the orders for the remainder of the run but Martin had gotten there before him.
"What have you got for us, Thomas?"
"You aren't going to like them. We've had two breaks in the telegraph line between Jena and here. Before the wires went down, the track crew at Rothenstein signaled that they had ten inches of snow, with drifting. They were patrolling the tracks on horseback but they haven't reported back yet. I'm giving you cautionary orders to proceed at best safe speed with a danger warning for snow and debris beyond Mile Post Twenty-Two. There are some deep cuts beyond Kahla and Rothenstein and you could get some serious drifting there. The wind's in just the right direction for problems on that stretch. Good luck and Godspeed." With that, he shook their hands and went on to change the signal to green.
When Arlen and Martin got back into the Goose, they were covered with a light covering of fine snowflakes.
Martin went into the Goose to check on the passengers. "How're they doing?" Thad was just checking their vital signs. "Michael is stable and in remarkably good shape, everything considered. Friedrich got a deep burn on the back of his neck and his blood pressure's been fluctuating a little, but if we get them to Jena soon, they both should be okay. How's the situation looking?"
"This last stretch will be the most difficult. Once we reach Rothenstein, the tracks appear to have some problems but the track crews haven't been able to reach the trouble area. At best, we may have a tree or two down, more likely, the tracks are drifted over." Mike was climbing back in the cab. He looked like a miniature polar bear with all the snow covering his winter gear.
"All aboard!" called Martin as Mike shifted the Goose into first gear.
Arlen climbed into the fireman's seat, rechecked the passenger compartment and then told Mike, "Let's roll! I've got a wedding to get back for tomorrow."
The track was aligned for departure. As they rolled out of town, Mike and Arlen both felt a change in the Goose's performance. After a few moments their worried looks slowly changed to comprehension. "We're on the older strap rail now! You can hear the different clatter as we cross the joints."
"I just hope we don't have a problem with this rail, Arlen. The snow looks to be slowing down, but they've had more here than we had in Grantville." The window wipers were laboring to keep the windows marginally clear. Mike rolled his driver's side window down and tried to clear the build up he could reach. "A least this is easier than a regular truck. I don't have to worry that I'll swerve into the next lane." Just then, the plow of the Goose found a small drift and Mike got a face full of snow.
"Looks like I'll have a simply abominable best man if you keep that up!" roared Arlen.
Sputtering and cleaning snow from his eyes, Mike groaned at the miserable pun. "Just wait until that first kid arrives, Arlen. Paybacks are hell."
The Goose made steady progress. Before they knew it, the station at Kahla was in sight. It was just a whistlestop station and the signal was green so Mike didn't even slow down. The problem areas were beyond Rothenstein. Mike was a study in concentration as he tried to watch for any drifting and gauge when the use of sand was needed for traction. The passenger compartment was staying nice and toasty with the passenger's body heat and the stove putting out its share of heat, too. Both patients were quiet. Their families were still in a daze from what had happened, but were starting to ask Walt and Susan questions about the future.
"When will my Friedrich be back to work? We don't have much money to pay the hospital," pleaded the injured man's wife.
"Don't worry, Anna, the company's paying all the bills. Mr. Pierce told me so before we left, and his pay's continuing, too."
The smile Susan got from her seemed to light up the whole compartment. "Friedrich told me this was a good job, but now I know it has good people too. Danke!"
The Goose rounded a curve and the mounted track crew came into view at the Rothenstein station. Mike slowed to a stop to let Martin check on the track's status.
Two minutes later, Martin climbed back in looking grim. "The crews were able to locate the breaks in the wire. The snow had broken off some overhanging limbs. They're going to wait until the weather clears before fixing them. Our problem is that about four miles outside Jena, there are a series of three cuts that are starting to drift shut. We may have to do some serious snow bucking to open the route."
"Well, that's why we waited for the plow," said Mike. "I'll watch the speed and we can have the boys in back get out and check each cut before we try to break through. Anything else?"
Martin shook his head no, sending snow all over the cab.
"Then let's roll!"
Arlen got up and went to discuss the situation with Walt, Thad, and the track crew. "Martin says we're about thirty-five minutes running time from Jena, but we're probably going to have to plow through some big drifts. Walt, Thad, I'll need you to make sure the patients are braced securely. Mark, you and the rest of the crew will need to get out to check the drifts for any debris that might have come down the sides of the cuts and let Mike know how big a drift he's facing. We'll probably need to take a couple of shots to get through each one if the track crew's description was accurate. Take all the shovels and picks out and pass them out when you get off. We'll need to clear the rails after each shot to reduce the chance the Goose jumps the track from the snow build up."
The entire track crew looked like they were dealing with a befuddled spinster. "We'll handle it, Arlen. We've done this before. Don't try to teach us how to suck eggs!" The good natured laughter that followed helped quiet Arlen's nerves.
About ten minutes later, the first cut came into view. The drift was as high as the top of the plow. Mike slowed down, shifted into first gear and inched up to the drift.
"Time to earn our pay, boys!" Mark called.
The track c
rew piled out to get their tools and start checking the drift. Inside a minute, Mark was back in the Goose grinning from ear to ear. "It's just a narrow wall, taller than it is wide. You should be able to bust right through. We'll stay outside, just in case you need a second shot, but it should go on the first try." Mark got out and waved the crew back up the track so they wouldn't get showered with snow.
Mike let out the clutch, applied sand, and nudged the drift. He almost broke through on the first try. He backed up fifty yards, waited for the crew to clear the rails, and then came at the drift again, a little faster than before. With hardly a shudder, the Goose broke through in a cloud of snow. As he stopped a hundred feet past the drift, Mark and the track crew hustled down the cleared track to reboard the Goose.
"That was easy," remarked Thad.
"Don't count your chickens, yet," said Arlen. "We've still got two more to go." Within a half mile, the next cut appeared and the drift was definitely more formidable. Mike made a half-hearted attempt at the drift and actually cleared five feet before he was forced to stop. The track crew got out and repeated the drill. No debris was found, but this time, the drift was almost thirty feet wide. After the rails were cleared, Mike backed up and made a run at the drift. There was a jolt as the plow struck, but neither patient was disturbed. When the cloud of snow from the impact cleared, almost twenty feet of track was cleared. The Goose pulled away from the snow bank it had created and the track crew fell to with gusto to clear the rails and the packed snow at the front of the pile.
After five minutes, the crew cleared out and Mark signaled for Mike to try again. When the plow hit the snow this time, a huge pile of snow flew up and landed on the roof and behind the railbus, but the Goose broke through to the other side. The track crew scrambled over the snow left on the tracks and reboarded.
Inside, thermoses of hot coffee were passed around. Everyone was tired, but cheered by the fact that only one cut was left.
The last cut appeared and someone in the back choked and sprayed coffee everywhere. A whispered, " Gott in Himmel," was the only comment as the extent of the drift became visible. The cut was more of a ledge cut into the side of the slope. The track was on a shelf extending for a hundred yards with a steep drop off on the left and a thirty foot high stone face on the right. Amazingly, the tracks were clear, but for almost the full length of the shelf, a ten foot ledge of snow overhung the rail bed. The snowfall had slowed to just flurries and the smoke from Jena was visible about two miles in the distance.
"What now, Arlen?" asked Walt.
"I don't think we have a choice. Everybody unloads and, quietly, walks to the far end of the cut. If we can, Mike and I will try to get the Goose past. If we don't, Martin can send someone to Jena for horse litters for the patients. That may take an extra hour, but they'll get there. The track crew can work at digging us out. If we make it, we reload and are in town in five minutes. If anybody else has any better idea, I'm open to suggestions."
Silence greeted his request.
Thad broke the silence. "Okay, then. Let's get our two patients bundled up again, just like we did for the trip to the station. While we're doing that, Mark, why don't you have your crew carry their tools down past the drift? Then come back and we'll all help get the patients moved."
The next minutes went quickly as the passengers and patients were all walked or carried past the drift. Once they were safely set on the other end of the cut with Martin, Mike turned to Arlen and asked, "Shall we do it fast or slow?"
"If we do it slowly, it's just about sure that we'll get trapped and they'll have to send for the horses. If we go quickly, we may stay ahead of the snow as it falls. Either way, I don't think we're getting back to Grantville, tonight."
"Fast it is, then. Hold onto your hat, and buckle in. This could get hairy!" Mike tapped the horn once to let the passengers know he was ready. Mark signaled back with his lantern to come ahead. Luckily, the track was straight here, so Mike backed up the Goose for a running start. One more tap on the horn and the Goose was off.
As it picked up speed, Arlen read off the speed for Mike, "Ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty, thirty-five…" They passed the start of the overhang and almost immediately snow started to spray in all directions. The plow struck a column of snow when they were about a third of the way through the cut. The ensuing snow cloud hid the Goose from the view of the small group huddled beside the tracks. The snow ledge started to collapse from the far end. Just then the Goose broke into the clear, and, like a surfer riding the Banzai Pipeline, the Goose stayed just ahead of the falling snow and cleared the cut.
Mike lay into the horn and the call of " aahhOOOOgah " resounded across the hillside. About three hundred yards past the group, the Goose finally stopped in a cloud of snow and sparks from the braking wheels. As the screech stopped, Arlen could be seen pounding Mike on his back in celebration. The Goose then backed up and the group jumped back on board as quickly as they could with two litters. Five minutes later, with the horn echoing off the city walls, the Goose entered Jena with its patients.
The Goose was greeted by a cheering crowd assembled around two waiting ambulances. A space had been cleared of people from the station platform to the vehicles and had been shoveled and swept clear of snow. There were two gurneys with attendants waiting for the patients. A group of very important looking people were off to the side. As Walt and Thad got out to make arrangements to transfer their patients to the gurneys, Beulah McDonald and Patrick Onofrio hurried forward to meet them. It had been Beulah's call that the center could handle the burn patients. She wanted to make sure that they got the best care right from the start. The transfers to the ambulances from the Goose went smoothly. Patrick rode in the back of one with Thad and Walt and Frieda rode in the other. Susan stayed with the families to help get them lodgings at a local inn before they went to the medical center. As soon as the ambulances left, the crowd poured into the cleared area to get a better view of the Goose and its crew.
A tremendous cheer went up when Mike, Arlen and Martin got out and the group of dignitaries descended on them. Wade Jackson started in with a speech immediately. "Congratulations on a magnificent accomplishment. Your efforts to…" Arlen smiled and waved and tuned out the rhetoric to check on what was happening with the rest of his passengers. The stationmaster was leading the track crew over to a nearby Brauhaus for some serious toasting. The ambulances had departed and Beulah and Susan were shepherding the families onto a wagon to take them to the local inn. Beulah caught Arlen's eye and pantomimed for him to wait and that she'd be back in thirty minutes. The crowd noise drowned out whatever she might have tried to yell.
Thirty minutes later, the speeches were still going strong. Every dignitary in town wanted to be heard and each speech was an agonizing rehash of the previous one. At one point, Arlen caught himself starting to nod off and looked over at Mike. Mike seemed to have perfected the art of sleeping with his eyes open. Arlen started searching the crowd and finally saw Beulah approaching. When the current speaker paused to draw a deep breath, Arlen quickly broke in, "I'd like to thank all the wonderful people of Jena for this magnificent reception. I see my contact from the medical center coming and I must check with her on my passengers. My associates, Michael Lund, who was the engineer for the trip, and Martin Erlanger, who helped build the Goose, will be able to stay, but I must make my farewell."
Mike turned to Arlen and muttered under his breath, "I'll get even!" Martin just stood back quietly and enjoyed his fifteen minutes of fame.
Arlen chuckled and turned to meet Beulah. She gave him a huge hug. "They both should recover. Walt and Thad did a great job stabilizing them for the trip. I know we could have gotten them to Grantville faster, but after we heard Gus had died and the others were not as serious, Dr. Adams and I felt that the threat from all the flu cases at Grantville was the more serious threat to their survival. This also gives us a chance to show the world that Grantville isn't the only place to get medical care."
Just then, a roar from the crowd caught their attention. Mike was just finishing his short speech with "… he got betrothed in June and his bride-to-be is tired of waiting. So just be here at dawn with your shovels!" He turned to Arlen with the biggest grin possible.
Arlen told Beulah, "I think I'm in trouble. I better get back to see what Mike's done to me now. I'll stop by the medical center as soon as we're done here." As he made his way through the crowd, all the men were shaking his hand or slapping his back. "What did you do to me now, Mike?"
"Paybacks! I told them about you wanting to get back for your wedding. There's no way to get the track cleared so that we can return tonight. The students have volunteered to start out early in the morning to hand shovel the tracks as your wedding present from the school. Now smile and accept your bachelor party!"
As the crowd started to lift Arlen and Mike on their shoulders, Martin waved them off and yelled to Arlen, "I'll take care of the Goose. I'll stop by the medical center when I'm done." All Arlen could do was give him a thumbs up. As the crowd headed for the street Arlen yelled to Beulah, "Radio my fiancee! Tell her I'll be there tomorrow. I'll stop by the medical center before I go!" His voice raised in pitch as the wave of people moved him away from the Beulah.
"Good luck! I'll make sure she gets the full story!" Beulah walked slowly away, chuckling as she went.
Arlen let out a groan. "She's gonna kill me!"
One of his supporters informed him, just loud enough to be heard over the crowd, "Only if the hangover from our party for you doesn't get you first!"
***
Early the next morning, still dressed in his shop coveralls, Arlen slogged through the snow up to the medical center front door, bleary eyed and a day-old beard on his chin. Mary Pat Flanagan spotted him first and came over with a sympathetic grin. "You look like you could use a good cleaning up and a gallon of coffee. Follow me. We've got a small shower facility for the staff down the hall. Leave the dirty clothes on the bench and I'll have one of the orderlies freshen them up while you're cleaning up."