And an astronomer said,
"Master, what of Time?"
And he answered:
You would measure time the measureless and the immeasurable.
You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons.
Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing ....
You would measure time the measureless and the immeasurable.
You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons.
Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing ....
Time Xxi - Kahil Gibran
First day at Joint Services Mountain Training Centre
How about a Canyoning training practice suggested the leader
(John) ok says the team, where? Let’s get a chopper and fly into
the gorge above the German camp Kinlochleven
It all begins at the new rescue centre. We meet, and as usual
plans are laid back. Rescue 137 arrives to find a semi comatose bunch of
ex hippies and thrusting youth ready for action. Wet suits and other
apparel is donned by John who has a cunning stunt in mind. We land amid
the alder clad brush above Kinlochleven in a scene that would do justice to the
classic Vietnam
Much hauling and cursing sees the Paul transported to a clearing in the
wood and all 15 of us pile in for the flight back to base. Coffee and
biscuits then later the winchman runs in to find John as they have a
big "job” and need 2 team plus “the medic” which is me. In we
pile with no idea where we are going. Ronny, Paul Moores and I. No
word yet from ARCC as to where the job is. We fly over the by now wet and
gray hills Southward to the Arrochar "Alps "
for 30 mins. Word is the casualty is in a serious condition after a long
fall. We fly up through the mist to the ridge above the South and spot
figures waving frantically. The chopper lands on the ridge and out we
pile running along the ridge then down to the foot of the climb to get him.
We find him on a grassy ledge 80’ below where he fell. He is
unfortunately surrounded by doctors and nurses from a medics hillwalking
group. Many pale anaemic doctor types looking 16 but probably 30 years
begin to be assertive in the company of us aliens from the sky.
Diagnosis’s abound. It soon becomes apparent that none are as slick as
they thought or ought to be, and good old fashioned naked aggression from us
seems to get things back under control. As a peacemaking gesture the
oldest looking of the bunch was given the cannula to put in. This he did
with gusto, but when he seemed perplexed as no blood came out the end, it
became apparent that unlike the cannula, he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the
box. In I go wondering who will write letters about me this time.
The casualty is quickly packaged and carried down a little way
till the chopper could come in and lift him by winch. After this the helo
landed again on the ridge, and after a sprint back to get on board we were
winging our way to The General Suffering hospital in Glasgow.
After a 15min flight we landed on what appeared like a Tesco car park
miles from the A/E entrance. Winchy and I disembark with the casualty
onto the back of a flat bedded van with two gum chewing pirate earinged and
orange tanned people dressed as nurses on board. I am met with “ah
like yer truss jimmy - musta been some party”, referring to my state of the art
Petzl guru harness and jangly bits. After a short journey we entered the
A/E and do our handover. The casualty has spinal injuries as well as a
pneumothorax and pelvic fractures, so all in a good bit of teamwork
between SAR crew and MRT, so we feel chuffed.
Some time later I need a pee. Wandering around I see a
doppelganger - bugger me, its Ronnie! “How’s it going Dave? I’ve been
wandering around for ages. The choppers gone to Glasgow
We eventually get ushered to a small departure lounge and meet up with
the SAR aircrew. It seems that such is the paranoia about terrorism that
despite having a big yellow budgie with RAF on the side, and flying
suits/helmets etc, that they also had to be searched and are not amused.
Beep goes the body scanner again - ****k it goes Davy. Off we go then,
eventually - and try and find what is a big ****k off helicopter in
Glencoe, but which looks like a wee budgie when we eventually find it among
some 747’s. We eventually get on board and ages later get permission to
taxi out among the giants. We take off into the gathering gloom and fly
North down Loch
Lomond
I’m in the door at JSMTC at 7.00 exactly, and sort out the
gear. First student in is most unimpressed by the gloomy damp
weather, and a bit ratty. His first words to me; “fuckin ell
mate - must be fookin borin stayin in this place” - Great joy at being paid
overtime in my new job, and having had a nice wee day out, I said nothing.
Davy Gunn
April 1998
