Survival is all about
Cold hard fact
Well, that and luck
On Alfenwehr, lots of luck

2/19th Company Area
Restricted Area, Fulda Gap
Western Germany, Europe
08 November, 1985

The wind howled around us, shoving at us as first it blasted from east to west, hit the mountain, curled back to hit us again, before it howled down the mountain, swirling as it went. It swept the snow around us off the road, off the ice around us, and into the treeline. The gusts of wind kept the visibility down to about thirty feet, the clouds of "dry" snow and ice crystals sweeping over us or all around us, preventing visibility.

The snow and ice covering the road crunched under our feet, the cleats of the extreme cold weather boots biting into the ice covered asphalt. The extreme cold weather gear we were wrapped in kept the wind from stripping away our body heat even as it slowed us down with the weight and the bulk. Each step was a struggle, each step required our core muscles to work harder keep our balance, required more effort to move forward.

Like I had argued, the sun had set before we'd hit the mile mark, and now it was completely dark around us as we slowed down, looking at the cliff next to us.

"Orange paint!" Carter yelled out, his face hidden by the extreme cold weather mask and the goggles he was wearing. I looked over and he was pointing at the cliff, where I could see someone painted the number ten on the rock.

"Almost there!" I shouted. We were tethered together by 550 cord, John and Hernandez carrying the heavy steel 'tanker bars' that were basically long inch to two inch thick steel bars, one end rounded, the other in a wedge. Usually used to work on the tracks of tanks or the new Bradley Armored Fighting Vehicles. Well, they'd started arriving in units a couple years ago, but as far as the military was concerned, they were pretty new.

John and Hernandez were using the bar to check ahead of us. The last thing we wanted to do was hit a short ice shelf that covered where the road had washed out or broken free.

We kept moving together, watching the numbers count down. At two we moved slower, panning our flashlights on the road in front of us.

One thing about Indy's Instant Cliff was the fact that there was water that came out of the rock face, running across the road.

The road in front of us was covered in a thick layer of ice. The water was steaming as it ran down the cliff face, freezing into a massive chunk. The water had to be heated by the pressure enough that it took a few feet to freeze solid.

"Roads out!" John yelled. "Take a Bradley or an Abrams to bust that!"

"Roger that! Let's head back!" I shouted back.

We turned around and started moving through the darkness, moving slow and steady, struggling against the wind. Now Carter and I were in the lead.

I wasn't cold, but it still felt like my muscles were turning to lead, getting heavier.

I pointed at a lee in the cliff wall and moved toward it. Once we got there, the wind was screaming around us, but we were out of the worst of it. I unbuttoned my parka, pulling out the canteen I had between a loosened LBE belt and my field jacket. I pulled the mask down, exposing my face long enough to take a drink from the warm canteen before passing it on. I pulled the mask back up, held my parka together, and waited till everyone took a long drink before putting it back against my belt in the canteen holder.

John handed me an MRE he'd pulled out. He'd agreed to carry mine, since I was carrying the canteen. I popped the strip covering my mouth, letting it hang from the tab, and used my teeth to rip open the MRE. I wolfed it down quickly, partly because I didn't want it to get too cold, but in reality, because it actually tasted good.

That was never a good sign. If an MRE tasted delicious, like the best thing you ever tasted, it was because your body was starving for fuel.

Curious, I'd done the math once.

Each step out in conditions like this consumed one point five calories.

Doesn't sound like much? The average human stride is three feet. A mile is roughly fifty-two hundred feet, which is roughly one thousand seven hundred fifty steps. That meant that a single mile, your movement alone consumed roughly two thousand five hundred calories. Normally, exertion brings body heat, but the cold of Alfenwehr robbed your body heat because your heartbeat had to speed up to keep your blood flowing through your core so it didn't get too cold in your limbs. It had to burn more sugars and calories to keep your heat up.

A mile was a minimum of 2,500 calories. Eighty percent of the people on Earth didn't get 2,500 calories a day.

You needed 2,500 calories just to walk a mile on Alfenwehr.

Luckily, an MRE is roughly three to five thousand calories.

This was our second one. We'd eaten one on the way.

We'd be hungry as hell when we made it back. We had a mile and a half to go.

We started moving again, the wind ripping away even the sound of our cleats on the ice covered asphalt, the snow and ice in the air making it difficult to even see one another.

It devolved into just putting one foot in front of the other. Leaning against the wind, my skin beginning to feel bruised, my joints aching, and stabbing pains in my side like I'd run ten miles. The goggles were protecting my eyes, but they still felt painful, and each blink felt like I had sand in my eyes.

Step. One foot in front of the other.

We passed the Dispensary first. Stopping and checking the door. It was locked. The two and a half inches of layered tempered ballistic glass still holding up against the wind and cold.

Step. One foot in front of the other. The lizard was drowsy, half asleep at his station. My mouth was dry, my saliva thickening up like I was in the middle of a marathon.

The Chow Hall. We moved up to behind it, standing under the heavy awning, taking another drink from the canteen. We were silent and I noticed we were moving even more slowly.

Still, half mile to go.

I could run a half mile in three minutes. I could run two miles in twelve-minutes nineteen-seconds on my last PT test.

It was a struggle to make that last mile.

Step. One foot in front of the other.

There. A road flare.

I started pushing myself, the lizard waking up, raising my core temperature, pushing the blood, sugars, and calories through my system.

I staggered up to the road flare and took a left, moving along the edge of the white picket fence. Twenty steps and I was to the door at the Far Stairwell.

I hammered on it with a fist.

Two heartbeats and it didn't open.

I can't make it to the airlock

four heartbeats

it's not going to open

six heartbeats

they left you out here to die

The door opened, Nancy and the others stood just inside. We staggered inside and they started stripping us. SP6 Jakes wrapped each of us in blankets that had been warmed in the dryer.

Nancy hugged me tight. She was talking, but I couldn't understand what she was saying. It was just noise, just random sounds, for a long time while she held me tight. I was shivering hard, my body reacting to having more heat by making me shiver to generate even more heat.

"Eat," Nancy's sounds finally made sense as she held up the foil package. I opened my mouth and she squeezed apple sauce into my mouth.

It was sweet, almost like it was made of honey and sugar.

"We gotta get you warmed up, all of you," Nancy said. She held my hand, leading me down the hallway. "Get them in the showers, heat them up."

Someone answered, I wasn't sure who.

My brain wasn't working correctly yet.

Step. Step. One foot after another.

The doors to Titty Territory squealed as we moved through them, but I was only vaguely aware of what the doors were leading to.

"Come on, Ant, keep walking, baby," Nancy said.

"Love. You," I gasped as she moved me down the hallway.

"I know you do, baby," she told me. She stopped, opening her door. "Didn't lock it."

When we moved into her room, I could hear the shower running. The lizard relaxed, enjoying the heat, enjoying the steam. Nancy moved me into her main room, taking the time to strip me of my cold weather gear, my BDU's, my wool long underwear, my boxers.

"Come on, baby, keep moving," She said, pulling me into the bathroom, into the shower.

I screamed when the water hit me, feeling like it was scalding me, burning me. I fought against her for a moment as she turned me so that I was directly in the spray. She wrapped her arms around me, pinning my arms to my side, and kissed me.

Her lips were soft, and I reflexively closed my eyes. It moved from her squeezing me to her holding me tight, hugging my close, as we kissed.

After a long moment she flexed her hips, rubbing our skin together, and she broke the kiss.

"Feeling better or a survival reaction?" she asked me, looking up at me with sparkling eyes.

"Feeling better," I told her.

"You guys were half dead," Nancy said. "I can't believe the LT sent you out in that."

I shook my head. "He didn't believe me how fast the sun would set," I told her, shivering.

"I'm going to write him up for this bullshit," Nancy said. "They need to make it against the rules to send people out close to dark up here."

I nodded.

She smiled at me. "First, though, you've got something I want."

I frowned at her and she slowly got to her knees, sliding her hands down my body, until she was looking up. She opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out real quick and crossing her eyes, making me chuckle, then gasp when she filled her mouth.

It was fast, it was good, and after a bit I felt warmed up, just exhausted.

"Come on, stud, let's get you in bed," She said.

I yawned as she led me to the bed in her room.

"You sure?" I asked her as she sat me down and pulled the covers down.

She gave me an odd look, then shook her head. "It's OK."

She got me in bed and climbed in with me. We laid in the dark for a while before she turned to look at me.

"You going to be all right?" she asked.

The little lizard checked the monitors. Core temperature stable. A little hungry, but nothing else.

"Yeah, I'm OK."

After a moment she kissed the tip of my nose. "Can I ask you something?"

I sighed. "Everyone seems to be asking me that lately."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

She kissed the tip of my nose again. "Well, can I?"

"Yeah, go ahead," I told her.

"When we get off Rear-D in the spring, want to put in for a four day pass and go to Barcelona?" She asked me.

I thought about it, "Might be fun. I've never been to Spain."

She nodded slowly. "We'll see who else wants to go, make a trip of it," she stretched, then relaxed in my arms.

"We can fit five of us in my car," I told her. "We'd make pretty good time."

She nodded at that. "That might be fun."

"When I lived in California, they used to have bonfire parties on the beach. Maybe we can do that," I said.

She shook her head. "Barcelona's a tourist city. No way they'd let us light fires on their beach."

"Oh," I was a little disappointed. "Do you speak Spanish?"

That made her giggle. "No, I'm only half Hispanic. Nobody in my house spoke Spanish," She giggled again. "Do you speak Gaelic, being Irish?"

"Yeah," I told her.

She was silent. "What, really?"

"Yeah."

"Huh, damn."

"John speaks Spanish, so we'll be OK," I told her, forgetting that John would be gone by then. "We should all go, it'll be fun."

"We'll get a hotel room, you and I, and spend a little quality time together," She whispered, kissing my nose again. "Get some sleep, stud. Tomorrow the LT's probably going to have you do some more stupid and dangerous shit."

"Army all the way," I grunted, closing my eyes and sinking into her arms.

The night was cold, but she was warm.