Under the Ice

Approximately 2,100 miles northwest of the sub base at New London, Connecticut, lay the picturesque village of Banff. Situated on the far western border of the Canadian province of Alberta, Banff was cradled in a magnificent Rocky Mountain valley, that was a hiker’s paradise in the summer and a skier’s delight in the colder months of the year.

In addition to a variety of excellent hotels and resorts, Banff was also home to an Army cadet-training facility. Here in the brisk mountain air, young men and women prepared for a career in the military.

Though this compound was usually closed down at summer’s end, it was occasionally opened to accommodate branches of the Canadian armed forces that wished to train troops in the vicinity. This proved to be the case on a cool, crisp fall morning, as a group of twenty-two soldiers lay snug in their bunks catching the tail end of a sound night’s sleep.

Oblivious to their contented snores, a pair of khaki-uniformed figures gathered at the head of the barracks. One of these individuals was tall and thin, with short brown hair and a creased, weatherworn face. The other was several inches shorter, with stocky build, smooth brown skin, and rather long, straight black hair. It proved to be the taller of the two who stepped forward. With the first light of dawn just visible through the window behind him, this man’s voice boomed out deep and strong.

“Good morning, lads, rise and shine! I hope you enjoyed your little slumber party, because it’s time to do your thing for God, Queen, and country. So out of those bunks boys, and look sharp. Because you’re Arctic Rangers, the best damn soldiers in the north woods

Looking out as his men began groggily stirring from beneath their woolen blankets. Lieutenant Jack Redmond turned and briefly grinned as he caught the black, steady gaze of his second-in-command.

“Sergeant-Major Ano! Get this bunch of worthless scalawags off to the showers and then dressed and into the mess hall. I want them waiting for me on the parade ground in full battle gear by 0800. And then we’ll soon enough see what Canada’s best are made out of!”

Leaving the task of further motivating the young squad of soldiers to his capable Inuit subordinate, Jack Redmond smartly pivoted and left the barracks.

Once outside, he hurriedly crossed the manicured parade ground. The pine-scented air was nippy, and just hinted at the frigid winter that would all too soon be upon them. Proof of this rapidly approaching season lay clearly visible on the lofty mountain tops that surrounded the valley, for the snow line was steadily working its way down the tree-covered slopes.

While wondering if the section of wilderness he had chosen for that day’s maneuvers was snowbound as yet, the forty-three-year-old veteran commando ducked into the adjoining mess hall.

Once inside this cavernous structure, Redmond headed straight for the cafeteria-style serving line. A single, potbellied cook stood behind the steam table.

“Good morning, Angus,” greeted Jack Redmond.

“I hope you had a pleasant enough sleep. What’s for chow?”

“Red River cereal and hot cakes,” replied the cook indifferently. His beard-stub bled chin was gray with several days’ growth.

“And have no fear. Jack Redmond, there’s plenty of hot coffee, brewed extra strong just as you like it.”

At this revelation, a warm smile painted the veteran soldier’s face.

“Bless you, Angus. I’ll be taking the lads on a bit of a hike today, and you’re more than welcome to join us with your pipes.”

Patting his stained, apron-covered belly, Angus McPherson thoughtfully answered.

“So it’s a bit of a hike you’ll be taking. Jack Redmond. Though I would like a chance to work off a bit of this extra baggage, if I know you, you’ll be taking your lads straight up Mount Rundle, and be back in time for tea.”

Redmond replied while filling a white ceramic bowl full of hot cereal.

“Not quite, Angus. I’ll be taking the squad up through Simpson Pass to the Sunshine meadowlands. There we’ll be doing some alpine climbing on the foothills beneath Mount Assiniboine.”

“That’s lovely land you’ve chosen,” reflected the grizzled cook.

“You wouldn’t happen to know if the Sunshine gondola is operating as yet, would you, Jack?”

The veteran commando nodded.

“As it so happens, I talked to the resort manager just yesterday to get clearance for our hike, and she mentioned that the gondola would be in operation all this week in preparation for ski season.”

Satisfied that he would have a way down from the mountain should his legs give out, Angus winked.

“Then it looks like you’ve got the services of one worn-out piper. I’ll be out to join you on the parade grounds in my regimental kilts as soon as the boys have filled their bellies.”

Sincerely happy to have the old-timer’s company, Redmond added to his tray a platter of hotcakes and a large mug of black coffee. He sat himself down at a nearby table and immediately got to work on his breakfast.