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Gogigobo Fairhug

Backsim: Corporal Stefan Germanovich - The Fall

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(( Mount Forbes, Alberta, SFMC Mountain Warfare Centre Range 7 ))

 

:: Stefan dug his ice axe into a craggy crock and knelt over double. The weight of his rucksack felt bone breaking, and his cold feet, aching back, and sore knees made it feel like this was an eternity. They were only halfway into their hike, so eternity would have to last a little longer. He looked up ahead to the lead line, and saw three of his Marines led by Gunnery Sergeant Kang, the spry yet surly South Korean who was now in a similar position, one hand on his knee and the other holding a climber’s pole. Behind him, Stefan felt a tug, and saw Sgt Wilkinson waving. Stefan paused, and waved him up, his thick puffy glove seeming like it was slow motion in front of him. The frost on his goggles made it hard to focus on his peripheral vision, so he had to stay directly looking at John as he trudged upwards. ::

 

Wilkinson: Hey! Keep an eye on Mwalke! That moron keeps tripping cause he ain’t paying attention!

 

Germanovich: Okay! :: he flashed a thumbs up, and un-thethered himself for a brief moment, connecting to the free line that ran the length of their group ::

 

:: Stefan trudged up the mountain to the young African, and soon found him squatting, nearly keeled over, sucking wind quickly in and out ::

 

Germanovich: Hey dude, are you okay?

 

 

Mwalke: :: gasping for air through an O2 tank :: Corporal I’m not feeling too great.

 

Germanovich: We’re only three hundred metres until the next stop, then six after that to camp. Come on buddy, just push a little harder. 

 

Mwalke: :: nodding :: Okay, I’ll try.

 

:: Stefan tapped his thickly padded shoulder with his free hand ::

 

Germanovich: That’s the spirit! You drinking water?

 

:: Mwalke flashed him a thumbs up, strangely misshapen due to the glove, and Stefan chuckled, shaking his head as he trudged back, feeling the rocks and ice scrape his boots. The wind howled mercilessly, and while there was no storm forecasted, the wind was significantly harsher than they had been briefed. Stefan arrived back at his axe, and slung it around his wrist momentarily, and once he had clipped it to his belt securely with a carabiner, extended a climbing pole and clipped back onto the team’s lead line. ::

 

Wilkinson: No! No! Mwalke N-!

 

:: Stefan turned, and felt the world slow down. Mwalke had stood up too fast, and with his altitude sickness now tripped sideways, the weight of his rucksack pulling him down as gravity fought against him. ::

 

Germanovich: Damnit! :: he felt the tug of the rope as his waist was yanked forward and he cried out ::

 

:: John ran forward and grabbed onto Stefan’s hood, awkwardly suspending him half on the cliff’s ridge and half off. In front, Gunny Kang looked around, and yelled out as some threw themselves to the ground for purchase, and others were pulled off the cliff face ::

 

Germanovich: No!

 

:: He watched Mwalke fall, his tether slamming him into the cliff face twenty metres below them :: 

 

First Lieutenant Stefan Germanovich

Marine Officer

SB-118 Ops

D239208KV0  

 

 

 

=/\= Navem in Litore =/\=

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