“Good morning, Angus,” greeted Jack Redmond. “I hope you had a pleasant enough sleep. What’s for chow?”
“Red River cereal and hot cakes,” replied the cook indifferently. His beard-stub bled chin was gray with several days’ growth. “And have no fear, Jack Redmond, there’s plenty of hot coffee, brewed extra strong just as you like it.”
At this revelation, a warm smile painted the veteran soldier’s face.
“Bless you, Angus. I’ll be taking the lads on a bit of a hike today, and you’re more than welcome to join us with your pipes.”
Patting his stained, apron-covered belly, Angus McPherson thoughtfully answered.
“So it’s a bit of a hike you’ll be taking. Jack Redmond. Though I would like a chance to work off a bit of this extra baggage, if I know you, you’ll be taking your lads straight up Mount Rundle, and be back in time for tea.”
Redmond replied while filling a white ceramic bowl full of hot cereal.
“Not quite, Angus. I’ll be taking the squad up through Simpson Pass to the Sunshine meadowlands. There we’ll be doing some alpine climbing on the foothills beneath Mount Assiniboine.”
“That’s lovely land you’ve chosen,” reflected the grizzled cook. “You wouldn’t happen to know if the Sunshine gondola is operating as yet, would you, Jack?”
The veteran commando nodded.
“As it so happens, I talked to the resort manager just yesterday to get clearance for our hike, and she mentioned that the gondola would be in operation all this week in preparation for ski season.”
Satisfied that he would have a way down from the mountain should his legs give out, Angus winked.
“Then it looks like you’ve got the services of one worn-out piper. I’ll be out to join you on the parade grounds in my regimental kilts as soon as the boys have filled their bellies.”
Sincerely happy to have the old-timer’s company, Redmond added to his tray a platter of hotcakes and a large mug of black coffee. He sat himself down at a nearby table and immediately got to work on his breakfast.
Forty-five minutes later, he stood on the parade ground, his men smartly lined up before him. Dressed identically in snow-wnite fatigues, the squad wore backpacks. Unloaded M16 rifles were slung over the men’s shoulders. While Sergeant-Major Ano initiated an intense inspection, a portly latecomer joined the ranks. Unlike his younger comrades, this individual wore gaily colored, red and black woolen kilts. He put the bagpipes he carried to work when Jack Redmond greeted him with a simple nod. To the spirited sounds of Scotland the Brave, the squad marched off to the bus that would take them to the trailhead.
The first portion of the hike took them through a thick wood of lodgepole pine and birch. The terrain here was relatively flat, with a swift-moving stream cascading on their left. To the melodious strains of such age-old pipe favorites as the “Highland Cradle Song,” “Captain Off-Ewing,” “Culty’s Wedding,” and “Farewell to the Creeks,” they made excellent time.
Designed to set a marching regiment’s pace and provide inspiration, the bagpipe tunes seemed as home here in the Canadian wilderness as they would back on the heather-covered meadows of Scotland.
The group stopped for a quick lunch of crusty french bread, cheddar cheese, and green apples at Simpson Pass. The weather was cooperating quite splendidly, and they munched away on their food under an almost cloudless blue sky. A gentle wind blew in from the west, while the temperature was so mild that the majority of the men were picnicking in their shirtsleeves.
After lunch, their hike took them up a gradually sloping trail. Unable to play his pipes on this portion of the path, Angus McPherson barely had enough wind to make the climb. Walking immediately behind the likable Scot, and taking up the rear of the pack was Jack Redmond.
Satisfied with their progress, the veteran commando was able to identify several species of passing wildlife. Fat black and white plumed magpies watched them from the branches of the pines, their characteristic long, graduated tails and squeaky voices quick to give them away. Ground squirrels were abundant, and once they startled a family of deer, who were innocently grazing on some green shrubbery at the edge of the trail.
Having grown up in nearby Kamloops, Redmond was most familiar with the rugged terrain they were passing through. Yet each time he ventured into such wilderness, he felt a new appreciation for its raw beauty. It had been his grandfather who’d originally given him his first lesson in woodsman ship. A grizzled logger, the old man had known the forest like a close friend, and much of his invaluable knowledge had been passed on to Jack during the frequent camping trips they took on the shores of Lake Okanagan. It was here the youngster had learned the names of the various plants and animals that abounded in this region. The impressionable lad had also heard many a frightening tale told around the fire-circle, such as that of the monstrous, serpent like beast that supposedly lived deep in the lake’s icy depths.
Twenty-five years ago, at the tender age of eighteen, Jack had enlisted in the Army. Never known for his ambition, he’d blossomed in the military’s environment of vigorous physical activity and comradeship.
Several tours had taken him to southern Germany, where he’d helped fulfill Canada’s NATO obligation. In fact, it was in Germany that he’d met the only woman he’d ever really cared for. Gretchen was a willowy blonde, with a quick wit and a keen intellect. Unfortunately, the headstrong Canuck bachelor had feared a permanent commitment, and he’d lost his only love to a dashing Yank from California. Since that traumatic experience, he had remained aloof from the opposite sex, preferring instead to focus his energies solely on his military career.
In the 1980’s, Canadians became increasingly concerned with the security of their borders. As the planet’s third largest country in terms of available land space, Canada found itself in the awkward position of having more troops committed to the defense of central Europe than it did to its homeland. To rectify this shocking imbalance, attention began to focus on internal security.
Since much of the nation stretched above the Arctic Circle, special forces squadrons were created to patrol these vast frozen expanses of territory. These patrols became more and more important as the Arctic continued to be developed both commercially and strategically.
It was for such duty that Redmond’s current outfit, the Arctic Rangers came into being. Comprised primarily of trained woodsmen and native Inuit, the Rangers were responsible for patrolling vast portions of northern territory, and were involved in search and rescue efforts and ecological enforcement as well.
To insure that his men could handle themselves in a variety of terrain and under differing climatic conditions, Redmond made sure their maneuvers took them to various regions of the country. Only recently they had stayed one month on isolated Ellesmere Island, Canada’s northernmost territory. Almost directly adjoining the northern tip of Greenland, Ellesmere was a desolate spot that for the majority of the year was frozen over in ice and snow. Since the Rangers stay had been there in the closing days of summer, the weather conditions were a bit more tolerable.
The Inuit members of the squad provided invaluable guidance, showing the men how to augment their dull canned diet with an assortment of nourishing local foods such as hare, caribou, and seal.
Jack Redmond couldn’t help but be excited when his recent orders sent them packing for Banff. For these were practically the woods he grew up in, and spending the next couple of weeks exploring the surrounding countryside was like a trip back to the days of his childhood. This especially seemed to be the case when a trail they had been steadily following upward passed by the side of a huge granite mountain that had recently lost a good portion of its bulk to a major rock slide. As a lad, Jack had played in similar debris, and he would never forget the many hours he’d spent climbing amongst the rocks, looking for gold and other treasures.