Under the Ice

To insure that his men could handle themselves in a variety of terrain and under differing climatic conditions, Redmond made sure their maneuvers took them to various regions of the country. Only recently they had stayed one month on isolated Ellesmere Island, Canada’s northernmost territory. Almost directly adjoining the northern tip of Greenland, Ellesmere was a desolate spot that for the majority of the year was frozen over in ice and snow. Since the Rangers stay had been there in the closing days of summer, the weather conditions were a bit more tolerable.

The Inuit members of the squad provided in83 valuable guidance, showing the men how to augment their dull canned diet with an assortment of nourishing local foods such as hare, caribou, and seal.

Jack Redmond couldn’t help but be excited when his recent orders sent them packing for Banff. For these were practically the woods he grew up in, and spending the next couple of weeks exploring the surrounding countryside was like a trip back to the days of his childhood. This especially seemed to be the case when a trail they had been steadily following upward passed by the side of a huge granite mountain that had recently lost a good portion of its bulk to a major rock slide As a lad, Jack had played in similar debris, and he would never forget the many hours he’d spent climbing amongst the rocks, looking for gold and other treasures.

As they came upon a portion of the trail that had been covered by this slide, the squad was forced to pick its way around the fractured rock. Briefly halting before doing so, Angus McPherson pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his soaked brow.

“My lordy. Jack, I guess I’m in worse shape that I ever imagined,” observed the Scotsman between gasps of breath.

“Why just look at your boys up there, climbing onward like this was nothing but a sunday stroll through Stanley Park. Why there was a time not so long ago when I could easily have kept up with those lads and then some.”

Stopping also to catch his breath, Redmond took a swig out of his canteen, before offering it to his portly hiking companion.

“I know what you mean, Angus.

Because I’m beginning to feel those additional years as well.”

“Come off it. Jack Redmond,” countered the Scotsman.

“Why you’re looking just as fit today as you were twenty years ago when we first met outside the town of Lahr in the Black Forest.”

The veteran commando shook his head.

“Thanks for the well-meaning compliment, Angus, but this old body’s logged quite a few kilometers since then. Why I’ve got pains in places I never knew existed before.”

Looking up the rock-strewn trail as the last of the squad disappeared into the tree line, Angus voiced himself.

“I hope Sunshine Village isn’t much further.

These old legs have about had it.”

Jack checked the position of the sun overhead before responding.

“It’s not much longer now, Angus.

Just think, you’ll be sitting in the lodge cooling your thirst with an ice-cold frosty one, while I’m still out on the trail with my boys. I’m beginning to seriously think about leaving this field work to younger, more capable individuals, like Sergeant-Major Ano.”

“Ah, that one’s as cool and no-nonsense as they come,” observed Angus.

“During the whole time I’ve known him, never once have I heard him crack a joke or even laugh for that matter. Does the chap ever have a light moment?”

“Not very often,” answered Redmond.

“Though there’s no one better with the men than Cliff Ano. He gained their respect from the very beginning, and that is the whole secret of successful command. From what little he’s told me of his upbringing, I pretty well understand his serious outlook on life. Growing up in an Inuit family that still followed the old ways and lived off the land, he didn’t have much time for childhood fun. When other kids were playing with toys and watching cartoons on television, he was out on the hunt with has father, or helping his mother repair and make clothing.

“I’ll tell you one thing though. If there was one person on this planet who I wouldn’t mind being stranded in the Arctic with, it would be Cliff Ano.

That fellow is a survivor, pure and simple.”

Taking a moment to stow away his canteen, Redmond added, “Well, we’d better be pushing on. Can you make it, Angus?”

“Can I make it?” mocked the Scotsman.

“Why I was only needing my second wind. Come on. Jack Redmond. There’s some life left in these old bones yet.”

To prove his point, he put the reed mouthpiece of his pipe between his lips, and as he began picking his way through the rubble, the mournful notes of “Donald Blue” vibrated through the crisp mountain air.

It took them another hour to reach the trail’s summit.

This put them above the tree line, on a gently sloping plateau filled to the horizon with stunted pines, weatherworn granite escarpments, and acre upon acre of lush green heather. Spots of snow covered much of this meadowland, yet the mild temperature was more like that of summer than late fall.