Alive and Alone (13 page)

S
EARCH
AS
HE
MIGHT
,
Sergeant Banks had found no other signs of David and he suspected the falling snow had covered his tracks.  He discovered the burnt shelter, as well as the shelter under the pine tree, and other indicators the young man had killed a moose, but it was as if David Wade had walked off the face of the earth.  Finally, darkness forced the P.J. to seek shelter from the high winds and blowing snow.  He decided to continue his search in the morning, if the weather would only cooperated a little.

At six that evening, Banks pulled his pocket thermometer out and saw it was twenty degrees below zero.  He realized that David had to have a good shelter constructed, a fire, and dry clothes or he was dead.  But, since he’d survived up to this point alone, the P.J. figured young David knew what to do and could do it.  When he had searched the area earlier he’d looked for some sign that Dave had been injured, but he’d found nothing.  Usually he would have found some bloody cloth, blood in a shelter, or even discarded bandages, but there had been nothing.  What he’d found also told the P.J. a lot about the young boy he was looking for.  It seemed that David Wade was not seriously injured, woods smart, and a very intelligent young man.  
All of those things he'll need, if we’re to find him alive,
John Banks thought as he added wood to his small fire.

The log had no sooner fell into the dancing flames when he heard a low growl from the darkness near the carcass of the dead moose.  
Bear!
 Banks thought,
But, is it a black or grizzly?  Lord, don’t make it a grizzly, I don’t even have a weapon.

Thinking quickly, the P.J. pulled out his Mark 13 Mod 0 day/night flare, removed the plastic cover over the night end and allowed the o-ring on a cord to dangle freely. He knew once the flare fired by pulling the o-ring, it would ignite with near a million-candle power and his only hope was the bright light would scare the bear away if it came too near.

From out of the darkness came a huge black mass.  It stood, unthreatening, until the flickering flames of the fire allowed Banks to see a fully-grown grizzly bear.  The bear, standing on its hind legs, was way over a thousand pounds, and was more than seven feet tall.  As a knot of fear formed in his stomach, the P.J. grasped the o-ring in his right hand and thought,
if he moves much closer I’ll have to pull the ring.

The bear abruptly dropped to all fours and charged at Banks, stopping only about six feet away breathing hard.  As his hands trembled, the man pulled the o-ring on the flare and immediately a bright light spewed from the end of the canister.  Turing his head to avoid injuries to his eyes from the burning magnesium and to prevent night blindness, Banks heard the
hiss
of the flare as it burned and then a loud grunt of surprise from the bear.  Glancing at movement across his fire, he saw the bear making his way at a wild run toward the protective cover of the trees.  His flare had just saved his life.

Banks added more wood to his fire, gave a short prayer of thanks, and leaned back on his sleeping bag.  The bear had given a false charge and most likely was unsure what Banks had been.  If he’d taken Banks for prey and ran the charge would have continued. The P.J. knew a little about bear attacks and it was the first one he’d had to face, but he decided he didn’t like it at all.  
There is something frightening about a beast that size charging a man,
he thought as he placed another flare beside his hand for easy reach.

The remainder of the night was quiet, though Banks slept poorly and half expected the bear to return.  He awoke with his neck stiff and his stomach empty.  Snow was still falling, but not as hard as when he’d been forced to call off his search.  Kneeling by his fire pit, he found a live ember in the ash and soon had a fire started.  Opening a MRE he discovered to his delight he had a ham slice, rice, pound cake, cheese spread, powdered cocoa and some other odds and ends.  He placed the sealed pouch containing the ham and rice into a large pot of boiling water and ten minutes later, he was eating his breakfast.  The meal would provide him with around 1300 calories, more than enough to help keep him warm as he searched for David.  He placed the gum and other small items from the accessory packet in his right cargo pocket of his battle dress uniform.

The sky was a dark gray and the wind was slight as Banks moved from his shelter and made his way up the animal trail to the top of the mountain.  He moved slowly to avoid overheating and guessed the temperature to be near ten below zero.  During the winter months and with bad weather, he would have less than four hours to search before darkness came.  At the top, he pulled out a small pair of binoculars and scanned the open tundra below the mountain.  At first, he saw nothing, but then he spotted something moving.  He adjusted his binoculars and the distance was just too far off to make out any details.  All Banks was able to see was a solitary figure and it appeared to be human in form.  As he looked the areas over closely, he spotted a thin line of smoke near the horizon coming from a group of trees.

I think that’s you, David Wade, and you’re headed toward the smoke.  You must think it’s a trapper or a group of Natives and it might well be,
Banks thought as he placed his binoculars back in his parka.

Returning to his shelter, Sergeant Banks quickly packed his gear, put out his fire, and started down the mountainside.  He’d already combed the crash site and David wasn’t there, so the lone figure out on the tundra must be the young man.  
He’s a smart lad,
Banks thought while stepping over a log on the trail,
he spotted that smoke too and knew it might be his only means of surviving.

Nearing the bottom of the mountain near dark, Banks quickly constructed a snow trench, lined it with his sleeping mat and covered it with snow blocks.  Climbing inside his shelter, he used his backpack as a door.  He quickly cut a vent hole in the roof to allow airflow and thought,
Tomorrow I need to get rid of some
gear.  My pack must weigh over sixty pounds and I can carry that much over the open tundra.  I need to move quickly and I’ll not be able to do it with this load.

An hour later, Banks removed his pack from the shelter opening, stuck his head out and saw it was snowing hard.  He left the entrance open and pulled out a small stove that burned compressed fuel blocks about the size of a sugar cube.  He placed a cube on his folding stove, placed a canteen cup on top, and heated some water from his canteen to make a cup of cocoa.  As the water heated, he hoped David had enough sense to seek shelter in a hard snowfall and suspected the young man did.

Sergeant Banks knew then David would have stayed at the crash site and close to his father’s body, except he’d seen the distant smoke as well.  It was obvious that some sort of people lived where the smoke was at, but what would he find?  If it was an old trapper, he might have a snow machine, a dog team, or perhaps nothing more than snowshoes.  If it was a Native village, it might even have a radio so he could communicate with Elmendorf Air Force Base.  If not, then David and Banks would have to wait until Save One returned and then contact them with the PRC-90 survival radio.  It wouldn’t have great range, but if Banks could see the chopper he should be able to talk to it, unless his batteries died between now and the rescue attempt.

As he sipped his hot cocoa, he opened another MRE and smiled when he realized it was one of his favorites, Grilled Chicken with Mexican Rice.  The side dishes and accessories were pretty much the same he’d had with the earlier meal, except instead of cocoa he now had a small package of coffee.  He decided to eat the pound cake as dessert and then get some sleep.  
Tomorrow, if the weather will allow, I’ll make a fast trek over the tundra toward the smoke,
he thought as he lower the food pouch into canteen cup of hot water.

Later, his meal finished, Banks stuck his feet inside his sleeping bag, pulled out a small pocket tablet and made some entries of what had happened so far.  His notes served two purposes as far as he was concerned, if he should die the notes would explain his actions and thoughts during the rescue attempt, and if he lived, the notes would help him write up his post rescue report.  Not to mention it would make his debriefing much easier with the notes to jog his memory.  Finishing his notes, Banks rolled up his parka to use as a pillow, crawled down inside his sleeping bag and called it a day.

Near sunrise the next morning, Banks was going through his backpack.  Making two piles, he placed the items to leave in one and items to take in another.  He kept his medical gear, individual survival kit, and some personal items that he’d picked up during his career. His survival knife, signaling equipment, and spare socks he placed in the pile to keep.  The survival manual, excess MRE’s, cans of water, and other not need items he discarded.  But, before he set the MRE’s aside, he pulled the coffee and cocoa packets as well as the candies or sugars.  He’d keep the drinks to stay warm and the candies and sugars for energy.  By the time he’d gone through his pack he’d loss about half of his load, but then he went through it all again and removed more unneeded gear.  His survival kit, the one dropped by Save 1, was designed for people to stay in place and not move, so it was heavy, designed for large groups, and most of the equipment wasn’t need when traveling.  We went through it and left a larger pile near the entrance.

The sun was just making its way through the gray clouds when Banks left his shelter and started across the tundra with a much lighter pack.  He pulled the flaps down on his “mad bomber” hat and wrapped a scarf over his nose and mouth.  It was bone freezing cold and if the wind picked up, he’d have to find shelter.  The wind caused loose snow to whirl around and around like small white dust devils.

David, less than two miles in front of Sergeant Banks, was very cold and knew he’d have to find shelter shortly if the wind didn’t die down.  He suspected it was forty below with the wind chill and he was already shaking.  He’d eaten the last of his meat, what little the wolves had left him, the night before and only had hot water for breakfast.  He’d spent a cold night in his shelter and more than once woke shivering from the intense cold, but he’d survived.  When he checked his feet this morning he noticed the cracked skin under his toe was better, but he’d have to watch it closely to avoid frostbite.  His father had once told him that injured body parts were more susceptible to cold related injuries than healthy ones.  The last thing David wanted or needed while walking to safety was to have his feet go bad on him.
 Bad feet or hands will get me killed,
he thought as he pulled the casualty blanket around his shoulders tighter.

He had a headache and noticed his vision appeared to be blurred, but he suspected it was from the wind.  As he struggled through the deep snow, it dawn on him that he was in serious trouble.  Someone had explained the symptoms of hypothermia to him once, it may have been in school, and he realized he had the injury.  I’ve got to get out of the cold and warm up, he thought as he came to a stop and started digging in the snow.  In just a few minutes, he had another snow trench constructed and as he crawled inside, he remembered to make a ventilation hole too.

As the small twigs and sticks he’d collected on his crude sled burned near the mouth of his shelter, he tried to remember what he could about hypothermia.  He knew it was the lowering of the body’s core temperature and it killed in little time.  The treatment, if he remembered correctly, was to warm up from the inside and keep his outside warm, as well as dry, at the same time.  He wrapped the casualty blanket around his body tightly and then made a cup of hot water.  As he sipped the water, he could feel his body heat returning.  
I came close to dying a few minutes ago.  I have to start paying attention or this weather will kill me,
he thought as he raised his cup to his lips.

Once the water was finished, David fell asleep.  Never in his young life had he ever been so tired, sleepy and hungry.

Banks discovered David’s tracks in the snow quickly once back on the trail and realized the young man was near.  Sergeant Banks was wearing aluminum-framed snowshoes, but he could see where the survivor had sunk in the snow up to his knees as he moved.  
I’ve got to find this guy quickly; because walking in this snow will either fatigue him to the point he’ll get hypothermia, then he’ll just lie down and go to sleep. In either case, this weather will kill him,
the P.J. thought as he noticed the tracks were more uneven now and it was obvious David was exhausted.

As he followed the tracks, Banks noticed David no longer walked in a straight line but meandered all over the tundra.  
He’s come down with hypothermia,
the P.J. thought,
I hope he knows the symptoms, or I’ll find him dead.  

The wind shifted and increased in strength from the north.  Banks stopped, pulled his facemask off and sniffed the air.  
Smoke,
he thought, and it’s from the north.  
It looks like David has at least a shelter and fire.