Gogigobo Fairhug Posted July 29, 2019 Share Posted July 29, 2019 (( St. Elias Mountain Range, SFMC Mountain Warfare Centre, British Columbia )) :: Stefan shivered, and pulled his jacket tighter, muttering curse words as he fumbled through his rucksack, trying to find a new battery for the radio. His large overmitts hung from strings, much like how one would tie a toddler’s mitts to them, as his fleece trigger mitts helped keep his hands somewhat covered. With temperatures down near minus 30, he was cold. Not brutally cold, but enough to make him miserable. He found the radio battery, a small white box that fit in his hand, and passed it off to Sgt. Wilkinson, who was helping one of the students with the frozen UHF radio. :: Germanovich: Hey, Johnny. I’m gonna go check on the students down below still coming up. :: Wilkinson just grunted in the cold, biting night wind and flashed a clumsy thumbs-up through his mitt :: Germanovich: :: muttering :: I could have any job in the world.. but NO. Just had to be a Marine. God, I am dumb. :: Stefan reached down, and clipped himself onto the rope that was tacked into the mountainside, quickly replacing his overmitts, immediately feeling their insulation serve as a buff against the harsh winds this high up from the lush green and white valley far below, where they had started their week. He slung his phaser rifle, and after several failed attempts to use his comms badge to raise anyone lower on the slope, simply muttered more curse words, chuckled to himself at the misery the students on the basic mountain course must be suffering, and shimmied his way down the mountainside. His crampons, tied over his winter hiking boots made cutting and scraping noises as they struggled for purchase, but aided by the guide rope that the leading section had laid, he soon found a cluster of students huddled in a small circle. A small mountain pot stove was burning, and exposed hands and faces were visible in the heat. Stefan felt his blood boil, and he slid down, entering the circle quietly :: Student: Alright, we’ll wait ten more minutes then keep going. I don’t think the Gunny knows that we’re lagging behind. Germanovich: I sure as hell do. :: The laughs that had started from the student’s quip immediately ceased, and horror appeared on some of the student’s faces. :: Germanovich: Not only is your fire showing the OPFOR exactly where you morons are hiding, but you just let your body, which has laboured to acclimatize up here, a false sense of warmth. Now get your gear back on, and start up the mountain or so help me God :: he emphasized the Lord’s name :: I will kick one of you off this rock for my personal enjoyment. :: The students sheepishly took down the stove, the flame going out and darkness settling back into the snow squall. They took their time, but after some ‘verbal encouragement’ from their instructor, they were slowly meandering back up the hill, tugging on the rope. Stefan followed them up, eventually reuniting with Wilkinson. :: Sgt Wilkinson: What happened down there? Germanovich: Just weakness. Caught them lagging behind with an open stove. Sgt Wilkinson: :: shaking his head :: Man, kids these days. You going to tell the Gunny? :: Stefan shook his head and chuckled :: Germanovich: Nah, one of them will go down soon as a cold casualty cause of it. He can explain himself then. :: Stefan winked, icy eyelashes trying to cling together as he reopened his eye :: Besides, it’s more fun that way. :: Wilkinson laughed, slapping Stefan on the back as the pair shifted their rucksacks and began up the mountain after their students, the last man slowly spooling up the rope and anchors as they went :: First Lieutenant Stefan Germanovich Marine Officer SB-118 Ops D239208KV0 =/\= Navem in Litore =/\= Quote Link to comment
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