The Forgotten Land (12 page)

The
Apaches would probably experience difficulty operating under these conditions
and the chances were they had headed back to base. The snow was falling thick
and fast and the soldiers pulled on their shamags, keeping their faces warm.
Although the temperature had plummeted, the snow would also provide good
concealment for them. It would be a long, cold drive home.

CHAPTER
6

They
made slow progress for half an hour, before the snowfall thickened into a white
curtain blocking vision to ten metres. They were forced to make the decision to
stop and find cover. The soldiers were freezing and the snow was not going to
clear any time soon. If they didn’t find suitable cover, hypothermia, that
silent assassin, would begin taking them.

They
put canvas covers over the machineguns to protect them from the weather. The
weapons would be cleaned once they found shelter. It was clear the enemy was no
longer following them and the guns would no longer be needed. Steve’s teeth
were chattering as he drove and he shivered uncontrollably in response to the
cold weather that closed in around them like a pack of wolves. The other three
leaned forward in their seats, arms crossed, heads bowed, shamags pulled
tightly about their heads and faces, trying to retain as much body warmth as
they could. Each of the soldiers wore their camouflage fatigues over a thermal
vest, a woollen jumper over the fatigues and a shamag over their head and face
as well as thick woollen gloves. But still the cold cut through them like a
knife, eating into their bones.

Steve
continued to drive slowly for another five minutes before they rounded a corner
in the road, which was only visible when they were almost on top of it. Another
hour of steady snowfall would blot the road from view and driving would be
impossible, that is if they survived that long.

“What’s
that?” Steve shouted over the wind. For a moment the wind dropped and they
could detect a large, dark oval shape carved into the side of a mountain.

Will
looked up, and Steve noticed the faintest tinge of blue in his lips. He was
already becoming hypothermic. “I dunno,” Will mumbled. “Might be a cave.”

“I
reckon it might be too. You all right, mate?” Steve asked Will with concern.
Will nodded slowly then bowed his head against the freezing wind and driving
snow.

Glancing
back, Steve noticed the remaining two soldiers were in no better condition. He
accelerated towards the cave opening that was about three hundred metres in the
distance and about thirty metres off the road on the left.

He
aimed the Land Rover towards where he thought the cave had been before the snow
swirled across the sky and blotted his vision. He blinked snowflakes out of his
eyes and felt the warm comfort of hypothermia not far away. He tried not to let
it cloud his thinking.

If
it was a cave then it seemed to lead into the side of an ominous looking
mountain. However, he did not raise his hopes. It may also have been a trick of
the eye.

He
pulled off the road, hoping the snow had not become too thick and ploughed
towards where he thought the cave had been. He clumsily changed down a gear,
his fingers having lost their dexterity. Steve heard one of the soldiers groan
behind him but did not have the energy to look around. The vehicle lurched
violently as it growled over a fallen trunk hidden by the blanket of snow. The
snow was close to a foot thick, but not thick enough to impinge their momentum.
But if the snow continued to fall as heavily, the vehicle would be useless in
another twenty minutes. If they did not find shelter soon, death would claim
them. Steve swerved around a tree that appeared out of nowhere. He swore as the
vehicle clambered over another unseen fallen log and changed back into first
gear as they mounted a steep incline. The Land Rover was moving at a snail’s
pace now. The skin on Steve’s face was numb and when the wind blew he could
feel the hollow of the sinuses in his skull.

Something
caught his peripheral vision and through the thick snow downfall he saw the
faded outline of the cave. He turned towards the cave, too tired and cold to let
the others know. As he closed the distance, the opening of the cave became
darker and more defined. Finally, he drove into the cave mouth, relief washing
over him as he gained some reprieve from the onslaught of the snow and freezing
wind. The cave was much larger than he had expected. In fact it was colossal.
Parking the vehicle, Steve rested his head against the steering wheel, trying
to summon the energy to climb out of the vehicle. The other soldiers were not
moving. Steve could feel sleep enveloping him, comforting him, taking him into
its warm embrace. He was home, he could rest. Finally he could rest. But
realisation called to him from some frozen area of his brain and convinced him
to awaken. Anger washed over Steve. He did not want to die like this, in some
unknown cave, beaten by the cold.

With
a snarl, he climbed out and banged on the side of the Land Rover, “Let’s go!”
he shouted. “Out!” Steve could hardly force his lips to form the words.

There
were grunts and groans from the other men, but none of them moved.

“Get
out! Out!” Steve roared. This time his words were as clear as day.

It
took several minutes, but the others slowly bundled out of the vehicle.

“Okay,
we need to get warm. Get your hexamine stoves out and get some warm food and
drink into yourselves.” Even as Steve was saying the words, the men were
hauling their packs from the Land Rover and grabbing their cooking stoves, tins
of food and drink satchels. Except Matt, who had curled up in the foetal
position on the ground near the vehicle.

“Matt!”
called Steve. “Oi, Matt!” He knelt beside the soldier. “Matt!” Steve shook him
hard. Nothing. He checked Matt’s radial pulse, but it was absent. Matt’s
carotid pulse was slow, but strong, a good sign.

Steve
slapped the soldier hard on the face, “Matt!”

Matt
groaned and muttered something incomprehensible, but did not move. The other
soldiers, realising that Matt was deteriorating quickly, set up their small
hexamine stoves, started their water boiling and went to help Steve. Matt’s
clothes were drenched with melting snow. With some cursing, they managed to
pull the clothes from him and dry his skin a little. Steve and Scott then
carried him to the Land Rover. Will opened the bonnet of the vehicle and spread
a sleeping bag out over the warm engine. They lifted Matt into the sleeping bag
and zipped it up. Within minutes the others were standing around the bonnet of
the vehicle, preventing any wind from reaching Matt. With hot drinks in their
hands, they started chatting about the fire fight.

“I
bet ya Hazareen was in the first vehicle we took out,” said Scott. “You might
be right,” agreed Steve, “Still, we’ll probably never know.” He brought the cup
of hot chocolate to his mouth, savouring the warmth as he felt each sip descend
into his core. “God that’s good,” he muttered.

“Well,
good to be out of the snow at least,” said Will staring out into the blackness,
listening to the raging storm outside.

“With
a bit of luck, Black Dog has informed our unit of what’s gone down,” said
Steve. ”At least he should have done.”

“We
going back in?” asked Scott, almost hinting that the patrol should move back
into the area of Barzan to complete their mission.

Bloody
hope so, Will said to himself silently.

“Don’t
know yet,” Steve took a gulp of the hot drink. “We’ll see what the orders are
when we get back to base.”

“Fuck
it, we should go back in,” Scott said looking out into the storm, his eyes
giving away his anger.

They
might have accounted for themselves, but at the end of the day the mission had
failed. Steve was furious about that. Dave's death also played on them all. He
quelled his anger. Fucked as it is, what happened out there happened, learn and
move on, Scott thought. Steve reached towards Matt, pushed his hand into the
opening at the face of the sleeping bag and checked for a carotid pulse. Matt's
skin was warm and the pulse was faster and stronger than before.

“Piss
off!” Matt muttered.

“Back
in the land of the living, eh?” smiled Steve. “Thank Christ for that,” he said
under his breath.

Steve
went to make another hot drink and was back shortly with a steaming cup. The
soldiers helped Matt into a sitting position. Despite his reluctance, Steve
forced Matt to drink until the cup was empty and then allowed the soldier to
lay back and rest on the warm engine block. “This is about as comfortable as
lying on a bed of rusty razor blades for Christ’s sake,” complained Matt.

“Just
hang tight there, mate, we’ll get you some dry clothes to put on,” said Steve.

“Dry
clothes?” asked Matt. “Hey I'm bloody naked in here, man! You bastards stripped
me?”

“You
can thank us for savin’ your life later,” chuckled Will.

Finally,
with three layers of dry clothes on, Matt stood before them, hands on his hips.

“So
whose bright idea was it to friggin’ strip me?” asked Matt.

Scott
wiggled his little finger. “Dunno how you keep your missus happy.”

“Get
stuffed man!” Matt grinned. “It was cold outside.”

“Cold?
That’s an understatement,” said Steve, passing another hot cup to Matt. “Drink
that.”

Steve
walked back to the vehicle and pulled clear another twenty- litre container of
water so they could refill their water bottles.

Sadness
washed over him as he noticed that a section of the tarpaulin had lifted and
part of Dave’s face was showing. Ice had formed in the hair of his eyebrow and
closed eyelashes. His skin was a deep purple now and rigor mortis had set in.

Steve
pulled the sheet back over Dave, before moving away and preparing his own food
and drink.

Half
an hour later, with warm food and drink in them, the soldiers were more
comfortable. They were huddled together around the bonnet of the vehicle that
still emitted some warmth. It would be a long, cold night, but with luck the
snow would stop falling and they would be able to depart by morning.

Even
though the snow storm showed no hint of relenting, and although there was no
indication of enemy close by, they were in enemy territory and had been
compromised. Regardless of the weather, they needed to remain alert and ready
to fight. The soldiers stood guard in rotations throughout the night.

Whoever
stood guard would move around to the rear of the Land Rover facing the cave
entrance with a rifle in hand and night vision goggles on. He would wait and
watch for any sign of enemy movement. The snow continued to fall, hour upon
cold hour, until the early hours. The cave entrance had been all but blocked
with snow.

If
the weather did not improve, there would be little chance of them leaving the
shelter next day. The sun was beginning to rise as the sky had turned a coffee
colour. He took off the night vision goggles and turned them off. The snow
continued to steadily fall. By 0700 the next morning, snow still fell softly,
covering everything that came between it and the ground. The snow had given the
patrol welcome reprieve by covering their tracks and providing excellent
camouflage. Steve knew it was a safe bet that while the snow fell they would
not be found.

The
cave was now very dark and little could be seen outside until the snow across
their exit was either cleared or melted. The latter was probably not going to
happen. Steve turned on the headlights of the Land Rover to provide some light
so he could check food stocks. If they portioned their meals sensibly, they
would have enough to last them another eight to ten days. But they still had to
cross the Turkish border very soon.

As
the soldiers sat cleaning their weapons or preparing breakfast, Steve prodded
the snow which had blocked the opening with his weapon.

“I
don’t think this is too thick!” he called out. “A couple of entrenching tools
and we should be out of here within three or four hours.

Scott
sat chewing on his meal with the headlights glaring into his face. He pointed
his spoon in Steve’s direction. “You just need to be careful, mate, a lot of
snow has fallen overnight. You don’t wanna go starting an avalanche.”

“True,
true,” Steve replied continuing to prod the wall of snow. “But it still feels
pretty thin. Even if there is an avalanche you’d think we’d be safe in a cave.
Plus the snow’ll melt. We may as well give it a shot.”

“Who
dares wins, man,” said Matt with a grin as he cleaned and oiled his rifle
barrel.

“You
wanker,” replied Will with a smirk.

It
was important to stagger their routines, so that as Matt cleaned his rifle,
Scott was eating. Will was checking the fluid levels of the vehicle, the tyres
and fuel, making sure it was ready to drive.

When
all the weapons had been cleaned, including the .50 cal and Mag 58 on the
vehicle and the soldiers had checked their ammunition, Matt and Will slung
their weapons, took out their entrenching tools and began shovelling the snow.
Once there was enough light flooding in from the partially open entrance, the
headlights were switched off to conserve the battery.

“Come
on man, I’m putting you to shame,” said Matt, throwing another load of snow
clear.

“Conserving
my energy, mate, the rabbit and the turtle, remember who won that race?”

“Conserving
energy? Is that what you call it? Where I come from it’s called bloody lazy,”
grinned Matt.