Under the Ice

“Where do you plan on staying until the blizzard passes? We can’t offer much in the way of accommodations here, but I think the school gymnasium could be outfitted with enough mattresses to hold you and your men.”

Jack Redmond shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary. Lieutenant. You see, we’ll be leaving for the Brodeur Peninsula within the hour.”

A look of total disbelief came to the Mountie’s face.

“You can’t be serious! Perhaps you didn’t understand, but we’ve got a nasty low-pressure system moving in from Lancaster Sound even as we speak.

Not far north of here, the winds have already been clocked at over sixty miles per hour, meaning plenty of blowing snow and temperatures well below minus thirty degrees.”

“I understand all too well. Lieutenant Elliot. But our orders don’t allow us the luxury of waiting for this blizzard to vent itself. We have no alternative but to proceed as directed.”

The Mountie still seemed flustered by what he was hearing.

“Good lord, man, this is ridiculous! This storm has all the makings of a killer, and it’s sheer lunacy to challenge it. Wouldn’t it be wise to first give your commander a call and inform him of the situation up here before needlessly putting your lives on the line?”

“I sincerely wish I could do just that. Lieutenant.

But my current orders come right from the Prime Minister’s office, and I’m not about to call Ottawa to give them a blooming weather report! No, my friend.

I’ve been instructed to get up there as quickly as possible, and I intend to do just that.”

Easing off, the Mountie reflected.

“Perhaps the Prime Minister has reason to believe there could be some survivors up there, though this is certainly the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Who can say?” retorted Redmond, softening his tone a bit.

“But orders are orders, and as Arctic Rangers, my men are prepared to take on just about anything that Mother Nature can throw our way.

Thanks for your concern. Lieutenant, and now if you’ll excuse me, I’d better give the lads some help with the rest of the gear. Otherwise, this plane crew is going to be stuck up here longer than they had anticipated.”

“May God be with you,” offered the Mountie, who continued on to the flight deck, leaving Redmond free to assist four of his men as they unloaded the last of the snowmobiles. Outside the plane’s rather comfortable cabin, frigid air swirled with a breathtaking intensity.

Snow flurries were already beginning to fall as a line of dark, lowlying clouds gathered on the northern horizon.

“Corporal Eviki, have the men start loading up the snow cats with our supplies!” Redmond shouted over the howling wind.

“Divide the food and ammunition up equally. That way if we lose a vehicle, the others will keep us going.”

As the Inuit got on with this task, Redmond was forced to pull up the collar of his parka when a bitingly cold blast of stinging air hit him full in the face. His exposed cheeks and forehead felt as if they had been slapped, and Redmond momentarily considered the Mountie’s words of warning. Yet his ponderings were brief for a voice cried out from the direction of the airplane.

“This is the last of our gear. Lieutenant!”

The soldier responsible for this revelation jumped down onto the runway with two white nylon backpacks in hand. He was followed by Bill Elliot of the RCMP.

“Lieutenant Redmond, you’re going to have to clear your men from the area,” directed the Mountie.

“The crew of the Aurora is going to try to get their bird skyward.”

Signaling that he understood, Redmond informed his men of the air crew’s intentions. As soon as the squad gathered together beside the corrugated steel Jamesway hut that served as the airport’s main terminal, the first of the plane’s engines was started. Three others turned over in quick succession, their grinding roar all but swallowed by the howling wind.

By this time the snow was falling so heavily that Jack Redmond had to pull down his protective goggles in order to watch the plane taxi out to the ice-covered runway. The pilot of the Aurora, obviously wasting as little time as possible, opened up the throttles and the aircraft lunged forward. It seemed to take forever for it to pick up speed. In fact, the plane was well over halfway down the runway’s length before its wheels finally parted from the icy pavement. Though a particularly violent downdraft sent the lumbering vehicle abruptly back to the earth, it’s stubborn crew fought off the elements and with a roaring whine the plane seemed to leap off the runway and soar into the cloud-filled heavens. Seconds later, it had disappeared.

“That was cutting it too close for comfort,” observed the relieved Mountie.

“Now are you certain you won’t reconsider and at least wait until the brunt of this storm passes.”

Jack Redmond responded by cupping his hands around his mouth and calling out forcefully.

“All right you shirkers, mount ‘em up! We’ve got us some traveling to do!”