ARMAGEDDON'S SONG (Volume 3) 'Fight Through' (2 page)

Garfield remembered the first time he had come up
against an overhang of similar proportions; he had shaken his head in a
very negative manner as his brain took in the near
impossibility of negotiating it. His instructor, a Ranger of many years’
experience had climbed up beside him.

“Mr Brooks,
sir…you
ever hear of a guy called Winston Spencer Churchill?” and Garfield had frowned
at the strange question.

“Do you mean the old wartime British PM?”

“Yessir that’s him, he was a good soldier before he
was a politician, and he had a saying that the three hardest things to do in
life are to climb a wall leaning towards you, kiss a girl leaning away from
you, and to make an after dinner speech…now I know you got a girlfriend and as
an officer you know how to make speeches, which just leaves the leaning wall
thing for you to do…now git your butt in gear and get it done before I kick
your pansy ass off my mountain, sir!”

The advice had been absolutely useless in helping him
conquer the problem, but it served to remind him that defeatism was not
acceptable in the eyes of the army.

He now shifted his gaze upwards, looking at the eighty
or so feet of chimney that ended abruptly where snow and ice capped it sixty
feet from the top. They had been socked in for two days by the storm that had
blown straight across the valley, coating the rock face, which they had
descended that morning with snow that had been wind blasted into ice.
Rappelling, or abseiling as the Brits called it, down from the top of the ridge
in four pitches had seen them all safely down on the canyon floor, before
crossing the exposed area in groups, one group moving whilst the remainder
covered them

The route the major had chosen, initially went
straight up for about a hundred feet of un-technical climbing, that is to say
without the need for pitons and artificial aids
. From there came a traverse, up and to the left for another hundred
and fifty, rounding a corner two thirds of the way along. From the traverse it
once more went vertical until reaching a narrow ledge, which varied in depth
from a foot and a half to mere inches. Above the ledge, the rock was as smooth
and seamless as if a team of giant plasterers had prepared it for painting, and
below it to the top of the traverse was as equally unhelpful. The major had
used pitons to secure runners to the face from the traverse to the ledge, and
then along the ledge to below the overhang. Theoretically they could simply
have gone straight up, in a technical climb all the way to the top, but they
did not have the time to spare to hammer in pitons every few feet, even if they
had that many with them, which they did not. They had lost time due to the
storm and could not afford to hang about any longer.

Garfield lifted his over-white top and undid his
‘yukes’ jacket or extreme cold weather clothing system, in storeman speak, and
replaced the binoculars before rolling back onto his front. In the entire time
they had been on the ground in China they had seen no trace of another human
being, it was as if they were on another planet. He checked that his small mix
of troops from two countries and three different units, were still alert and on
the ball, covering their assigned arcs. It was odd, he thought, that whereas
his guys mixed well with the Brits of both units, there was coolness between
the M&AW Cadre, Royal Marines and the SAS Mountain Troop guys. ‘The Cadre’
didn’t consider themselves to be ‘special forces’ but they definitely looked
down on the mountain troop
soldiers.        

To Garfield’s mind this frosty attitude was entirely
due to the media’s love affair with the SAS. The Cadre were all instructors, in
their peacetime role they taught the members of 3 Commando Brigade how to fight
and survive in arctic conditions, how to climb, and how to operate far above
the snow line where the air is thin. The Cadre did not wear any insignia or
embellishments on their working or ceremonial dress, and even the Royal Marines
own Special Forces, the little known Special Boat Service who received much of
their training from the Cadre only wore a quaint little ‘Swimmer Canoeist’
badge, the letters SC and laurel leaves in gold on the right arm of their dress
uniforms to set them apart. The American had seen nothing to make him doubt the
Mountain Troop soldiers abilities, they were all very professional and good
climbers, but the Cadre were very,
very
good. The levels of fitness were impressive in terms
of stamina. He could beat the M&AWC’s ‘granddad’, the forty-something
Glaswegian, Sergeant McCormack, by several minutes on a five mile dash but he
struggled to stay up with the man when they each carried their own weight in
kit on route marches.

The parting of the ways would occur once the force
reached an east/west running ridge above them, at that point Mountain Troop
would go east seven miles to place remote laser designators, targeted on the
vehicle assembly buildings, launch towers and satellite communications dishes
of the space centre.

The Cadre and Garfield’s men would turn west for the
ICBM field where their designators would be sighted on the hardened silos. If
all went to plan the troops would RV back at this spot before beginning the
long hike to a disused mining strip, for a night extraction by the C-130
Hercules of 47 Squadron, Royal Air
Force.
The extraction was totally dependent on the
success of the F117As and B1-B Lancers accompanying the B2 bombers. Their job
was to clear away enemy air defence radar from the target, and all the way back
to the borders of India and Nepal.

Richard placed another camm into the crack running
through the overhang, reaching across and upwards to position it six inches
from the overhangs lip and attached his harness to it with a pair of linked
quickdraw’s. When he released the quickdraw to the previous camm though, there
was a screech like fingernails being drawn down a slate blackboard, as the camm
near the lip shifted several inches downwards and outwards. Corporal Alladay
was belayed on to a large boulder at the last pitch and immediately took up the
slack, feeding rope back around his body and bracing, locking his arms in
toward his torso.

The tight rope stopped the pendulum movement of the
major’s body, and Richard held his breath, staring at the camm which had half
emerged from the crack but had now taken a firm hold against a protruding nub.
As satisfied as he could be that the camm was now secure he singled up on the
quickdraw's securing him to the camm before reaching up beyond the lip of the
overhang, his fingers feeling for a hold. Below him Corporal Alladay let out
some rope, again allowing the major some freedom of movement. 

Richard first found a finger hold, and then discarded
it for a fracture coming off the crack, which afforded a better grip. To the
left of the crack an angle of rock would afford him some purchase for his left
foot. With his right hand in the fracture Richard wedged the fingers of his
left into the crack and heaved, bringing up his left foot and planting the sole
of the boot firmly before transferring his right hand to the crack. Bracing
himself there he let go with his left hand and unscrewed himself from the
remaining quickdraw, allowing it to fall way to hang from the stem. He was now
out of sight of Alladay and tugged on the rope, signalling for more slack
before working his body higher, hand over hand up the crack until he was able
to jam the toe of his right boot into the fracture hold. With feet splayed and
the fingers of one hand wedged into the crack and the other gripping the
underside of an inverse lip.

Richard craned his neck to look for the next hold.
Having got himself to this spot Richard now found that the next possible hand
hold was a good seven or eight inches beyond his grasp, but after that the face
promised easier going. It’s not a problem, he thought, I’ll use a camm in the
crack to pull myself up. Reaching around to the back of his harness though he
found that he had none left that would fit. His largest monolith was too narrow
and he had used his last piton below the overhang, all he had left were ice
screws, the hollow, rifled tubes for affixing runners once they reached the
snowline. It was time to consider alternatives, and he unclipped his ice axe
from his harness.

Through the eye on the helve’s butt end he threaded a
length of line, tying it off on his harness with six feet of line connecting
the two. As if about to try and lever off the inverse lip of rock Richard
jabbed the picks business end upwards into the space previously occupied by his
fingers. Without weight being applied to the picks helve the ice pick would
simply fall away, so holding the pick in place with his left hand he brought up
his left foot onto the moulded handgrip before shifting his weight to rest upon
it. It was a variation on the Stein Pull and gave the commando a somewhat
perilous perch on which he now placed his other foot also, and twisted his body
at the waist to face the rock with the palms of his hands flat against the rock
face. There wasn’t any way he could warn Alladay about what he was about to
attempt, so if he screwed it up he would fall until the runner on the last camm
caught him, and his momentum would then swing him into the rock face below the
overhang with bone breaking force. Bending at the knees Richard steadied him
before leaping, his arms outstretched and fingers already half hooked. As soon
as his weight left the ice pick it came loose, tumbling way to dangle from the
line tied to his harness. The fingers of both hands found the same lip of rock,
but it was only deep enough for the tips. With his hands side by side Richard
gritted his teeth and pulled, doing a chin-up until his eyes came level with
his fingertips. He groaned with the effort and then let go his left hand,
shooting it up into a narrow horizontal fracture. Gritting his teeth and with
his biceps trembling the Royal Marine worked himself up hand by hand until
eventually he could find purchase for his feet.

Garfield heard the beat of rotor blades first, echoing
off the canyon walls in a way that made it
impossible
to judge the direction of the source of the sound. He had two men take up
position with Stingers, finding spots where they could engage in either
direction along the wide canyon, and where they would avoid causing friendly
injuries with the weapons back-blast.
The FIM-96A had a maximum range of eight
kilometres and a minimum range of one, the distance the missile would travel
before it had armed itself. That minimum range could be a real hamper in the
confined depths of the mountain canyon if they did have to engage, but that
would be a very last resort, as it would announce their presence here.

Over four hundred feet up, Major Dewar felt the
vibrations through the rock before he actually heard the sound of a helicopter,
and breathed a savage

“Oh
shit
!” The only cover around was that of the chimney above
him.

Up and down the rock face the troops pulled themselves
into the cover of shadows and undulations in the rock before going very still,
their camouflage clothing assisting in the deception. The men anchored to belay
points tied off the ropes, before releasing themselves from their restraints
and getting themselves concealed

Corporal Alladay however was stuck out on a protruding
shelf in plain view until Major Dewar could signal he was safe to untie himself
from his anchor point. Richard hauled his axe back up and clipped it to his
harness before climbing as fast as he safely could toward the crack where it
suddenly yawned to become a chimney.

Back on the ground Lt Brooks used his binoculars to
check that everyone on the face was as near invisible as possible, but the
major and Alladay were still in clear view.

The sound of the helicopter was growing louder and his
Stinger men were looking over their shoulders at him for permission to activate
the weapons infrared seekers. If the aircraft happened to be equipped with a
sensor suite the super-cooled ‘eyes’ could register upon it, giving away their
presence as surely as actually loosing off a missile at them, so he shook his head
emphatically before again raising his binos. Richard had gained the lower
reaches of the chimney and was squeezing himself inside, hollering down the
face

“OFF BELAY...FREESTYLE IT, ALLADAY!”
informing the NCO that he was safe to release himself
but that he himself was not belayed-on, so putting weight on the rope that
connected them would result in Richard being pulled bodily from the rock face.
Alladay untied himself and went up the face, moving as quickly and surely as
had his officer.

Appearing at first as a small dot, the Chinese
helicopter gradually grew in size as it flew toward them between towering rock
walls. Garfield looked desperately up at the Royal Marine Commando, willing him
to climb even faster than he presently was.

Garfield had to make a decision, the aircraft was fast
approaching minimum engagement range and the Stingers needed a few moments to
acquire their target. He could stand down the Stingers and trust that Alladay
would be able to get into cover by the time it arrived. Otherwise Garfield
would probably blow the entire operation by ordering the men holding the
weapons to engage and destroy.

“Sir?” one of the men asked, wanting to
know what they were to do.

Now I know why they pay me more than a trooper,
Garfield thought.