Rainbows in the Rock 51

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CHAPTER 51
It was still light, so close to the solstice, as I bundled everything into the Sea King, including the pre-prepared rucksacks. Word was coming back by way of a complicated mobile phone and radio daisy chain, and it did not sound promising. Clive was straight to the point when he gave us the briefing before boarding the helicopter.

“It’s one of those stupid ones. Someone decides to jump Adam and Eve, and their partner stands on the east side to watch. Casualty one misses his step, and we have a probable broken leg. Unfortunately, when he fell, he struck his other half, and she went over the East Face of Central. Looks like she went some way down First Pinnacle. Enfys?”

“Yes?”

“This could be… This is very likely to be a fatality. I would like you to help with the rigging for the ab, sort the stretcher and stuff, and handle a safety line for Alan. Andy and Will can sort the first casualty. Alan, you shoot down to casualty two. Assess, stabilise if necessary. Rejig priorities if it’s what I am worried about. Questions?”

There were none, and we followed the kit in bundling ourselves into the aircraft, which tilted a long way as we roared off and up for Tryfan. On arrival, the pilot made a slow approach to allow other walkers to clear the summit, settled one wheel a little way north of there, and I then followed the lead of the older members as two of them half-jumped from the open door so that the rest of us could pass down the kit. Out and down, and there was ‘Casualty One’, another ‘civilian’ with him.

Concentrate now, girl, and leave those assigned to him to do their job. I quickly set up a number of anchors as Alan prepared to throw down his abseil line, then took him on a direct belay (thanks, Matt).

“Got me, love?”

“Yes, Al. When ready”

“Aye aye. ROPE BELOW!”

Off went the extra-long abseil rope, and he started to walk backwards over the edge to one side of Thompson’s Chimney, his pace slow and steady, far removed from the high-speed silliness beloved of films and television shows.

“Enfys?”

“Aye aye!”

“I can see the casualty. Priority likely to be number one, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Descending!”

“Okay”

My stomach was fluttering at that, as I understood exactly what he meant. I paid out the safety rope until his call came, “On belay!”, and turned to see Clive move well away from the man on the ground, holding his radio. I was already dreading the news, for I knew exactly how much line I had paid out for Alan. After a short and almost whispered conversation, Clive came over to me.

“Could you give the lads a hand securing Casualty One, love? I don’t want you around for the next bit. I think you’ve worked out why”

“How far down is she?”

“Foot of Yellow Slab. Head injuries… No. Let the others do the recovery, Enfys. You go with the first one to the hospital. You can write up the report for us; Andy knows the procedure. You really don’t need to see this on your first outing. Good anchors, by the way”

Foot of the Yellow Slab, he had said. That would be a fall of about seventy five or eighty metres, measured vertically. No. I did not want to see that.

The helicopter had waited over on Glyder Fach, so it was a matter of minutes before it was back with us. I had helped the others, under our doctor’s guidance, in securing Casualty One (don’t think about the other one, girl) to a lightweight combination backboard and stretcher, an inflatable cast securing his leg for the moment, and after a quick radio chat with the pilot—“Winch or load by hand?”—we had deposited the groaning man in the load bay, Andy and myself clambering in to sit beside him, and we were off to that helipad by the hospital, the same one I had been told would become all too familiar.

“Where’s Joyce?”

The casualty. Andy was gentle, soothing and completely lacking in any honesty.

“Rest of the team are with her, mate. Getting her secured, ready for getting off the hill. You need to relax; can’t be sure there’s no other injuries to go with your leg. Be at the hospital soon”

“Hurts”

“Be there soon, mate. Quicker by chopper, easier on the knees. Get you sorted, and the pilot can shoot back up”

More of the same, more answers that weren’t actually answers, and then the aircraft was settling onto the pad, turbines winding down. There was clearly no rush to get back for ‘Joyce’, and my heart sank with the engine note. Eighty metres.

There was a small crowd of nurses or porters waiting for us, and Casualty One was away and gone. To my surprise, one of the winch men shouted to us to strap in, the engines roaring into life.

“Radio shout, Andy—doc’s found a pulse!”

“Shit! We’re in—urp!”

What I had thought of as ‘abrupt’ when we had left the base was nothing compared to the next departure, and my stomach nearly came out of my mouth in complaint. Andy had passed me a spare headset, so that I could listen in on the chat, but it was confusing at first, until I managed to translate some of the jargon, and then they were telling me what I was supposed to be doing. Andy was crystal clear in that part.

“They’ve managed to get her onto a backboard, Enfys. There’s just enough clearance for the rotor blades where she is. Rory goes down on the winch, Dean manages it from here. See the safety straps there? We need to be secured to them, help bring the casualty onboard. Skipper says the wind’s getting up, so it could be a bit bouncy”

“The rest of the team?”

“Reverse FPR, or, more likely, traverse to one of the gullies and ab it. Apart from the doc, of course. Fraid you’ll be out late tonight, love”

He paused, then looked at me directly, face set.

“Clive wanted you away from this one, but no chance of that. She’s going to be in shit state after that fall, so my advice, for what it’s worth, is to settle yourself beforehand. Don’t work yourself up with worry. This… this is like making a thin move, a long way from a runner. You know you can do the move, and it’s a head game. This is the same, but this time it’s me who knows you can do this. Make your Dad proud, okay? We’re just coming up heather Terrace now, so deep breaths, and let’s do this”

The helicopter turned in a wide, sweeping movement, then tilted backward abruptly before settling onto an even keel. The man called Dean checked Rory’s harness as Andy slid back the hatch, side door thing, and then we were creeping slowly forward, occasionally rocking as we were caught by a gust. I followed their instructions and positioned myself to one side of the opening, a solid webbing strap securing me to a D-ring on the inside wall thing. The pilot’s voice was calm over my headphones, almost soporific in it’s lack of any discernible emotion.

“Coming up on casualty party. Taking station twenty metres above. Diver ready”

“Aye aye”

“Winchman ready”

“Aye aye”

“Step down please, Rory. Give him about fifteen metres, Dean, and I will move to port. Rory?”

The man on the rope was well below us now, but his voice was as calm as the pilot’s.

“Aye?”

“I will have about ten feet clearance on the blade tips. Lively in securing the casualty, please”

“Roger that”

“Rescue boys will present you the stretcher link as you descend and then hold the stretcher clear of the Pinnacle as long as you can. On the word, I will move to starboard. Once that shackle is clipped, we are gone. Getting too hairy to collect the doctor”

“Wilco. Dead slow. Winchman, another five metres. Stop. Pilot two metres to port. Stop. Winchman, two metres more… shit… bit further lads… Pilot, casualty secured. Ascend as necessary. Get me in please, Dean”

The Central Buttress started to slip both down and away from us as the pilot found some space to manoeuvre, and the winch whirred as Rory was brought up, one of our aluminium stretchers by his waist bearing someone whose head was between a couple of foam blocks, strapping everywhere. Find that calm place, Hiatt.

Rory turned slowly at the end of his cable, until the stretcher was next to the hatch, and then Dean, Andy and myself brought both of them on board. The hatch clanged shut, and as soon as we had attached the stretcher to the fixtures on the deck, we were descending at speed.

No. Don’t puke on the patient.

Once again, the pilot’s voice was anodyne.

“Doc’s talking to the hospital, giving details of analgesia administered and a summary of the major injuries. ETA at Ysbyty Gwynedd is now fifteen minutes. Crash team are in place with scissor lift for stretcher. Well done, all. I am buying the cakes”

Once again, we settled onto the helipad, and to my surprise, as the engines shut down, Dean kept the hatch closed.

“Wind’s getting up, love. We are risking some blade sailing, so we’ll wait until they’re still before they approach”

That was something I did understand about helicopters, and I waited as calmly as I could until the hatch was opened and a wheeled platform rose to receive the stretcher and its burden, the medics rushing them away. As I watched, a hand came down on my shoulder: Andy.

“Well done, Enfys. Not exactly the easiest introduction, but it could have been worse. Not that easy on the stomach, is it? Now, we need to hit the briefing room and do the reports”

I shook myself, trying to find a joke somewhere, but my heart wasn’t in it.

“What was that about cake?”

“Ah, Julian’s way of saying well done to Rory. That was a real, literal touch-and-go hoist. One chance to hook up, in that wind, that close to the rock. Pilot, Julian, was having real difficulties keeping on station, and Rory saved us all from having to go round again. It will have been Al who passed him the shackle, though. The rest were holding the stretcher up; that’s why we couldn’t collect the doc. Come on: tea to sup, cakes to eat, casualty reports and hopefully no witness statement to write”

He paused, then smiled again.

“No inquest this time, love. No Coroner. Fingers crossed, that is. Oh, and it’s you for the first round at the Cow when we come off on-call. Be there, or be sober!”

Alys was there for me that night, after both sets of parents welcomed me home. I didn’t give them details.

I couldn’t. I was still seeing the shape of the woman’s legs.

My lover simply held me until I managed to fool her that I was asleep. As soon as her own breathing settled down, I was finally able to weep.

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Comments

Enough

Maddy Bell's picture

Excitement for any one that cariad.


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Madeline Anafrid Bell

Talking to survivors

One of the most awkward situations is talking to survivors of a situation on the way to the hospital, when others have been hurt, particularly if the person you're treating has some culpability. One time, we were toned-out to an MVC where a car had crossed the line and hit a motorcycle head on. I was primary medic in the ambulance that took the car driver to hospital. When we left the scene, one of the motorcycle passengers was still being worked, while a second was covered in a sheet awaiting the coroner. The patient was alternating between wondering what happened (it's not uncommon for traumatic events to be blocked), worried they might have fallen asleep at the wheel, and asking if anyone else had been hurt, while hoping everyone was okay. I hadn't witnessed the crash, so I could truthfully say I didn't know exactly what had happened, and that the rest of the team was rendering the best care they could to the other people involved, and our focus now was getting him in for treatment at the hospital. It was an emotionally uncomfortable ride.

I was still seeing the shape of the woman’s legs

Working in hospitals I saw a lot of nasty injuries, including the time a man died while I watched. yeah, that kind of thing is going to stick with a person.

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Harsh Reality

joannebarbarella's picture

No flash. Slow, steady, methodical and dangerous.....and tough mentally on those carrying out the rescue. It won't make the media because the reporters have nowhere to take their pictures.

When the action's over the weeping begins.

That was SO real

Very well written.
Almost seems wrong, after that, to wish you a Happy New Year, but I do!