Alliance in the Ice - The Guardians of Noindaith

Copper Heights- Soldier Paul

At another time, under different circumstances, I would have paused and watched the thick snowflakes in their whirling dance. But now I felt as if they were mocking me, deliberately burning my cheeks, gluing my eyelashes and stubble together.

The path was rocky and steep, and the snow crunched under my boots in the crampons. I kept my head down and stared at the ground. I took every step with caution, as the ground could give way under my feet at any moment. The depths of the snow concealed who knows what, loose scree, a crevasse or a thin layer of ice - one wrong step could mean death.

The heavy rucksack with ammunition, provisions, shovel and climbing rope pushed me down. I clutched the leather straps, gritted my teeth and pulled the snot up. The containers for the snow goggles and gas mask dangled from my belt and rattled against each other. How stupid of me not to have put the goggles on straight away. I didn't have time to do that now, because Sergeant Ahrend was driving us on relentlessly.

The biting cold penetrated through my coat and scarf, even under my sweater, and yet my forehead was covered in sweat. Fighting the snow required tremendous strength. My concentration waned, my knees trembled, my steps became careless. Nevertheless, I had to persevere. We had to keep going up, scanning the terrain for potential avalanches that could bury the ice town. The enemy could be lurking around every bend in the path. The tension almost tore me apart.

I was clutching my rifle, a Mauser 98, tightly. Fortunately, I didn't feel the cold of the steel in my rabbit fur-lined gloves. I had attached the bayonet to the end of the rifle barrel.

If the enemy jumped out from behind a rock or bush, he would feel first-hand what it meant to encounter a pioneer from the high mountain company. Because we could fight well too. However, the Ostians in this inhospitable region were just as poor devils as we were. In fact, they were our brothers.

I had to stop to catch my breath. I pressed my free hand against my ribs and fought against the side stitch.

I briefly let my anger boil over at Captain von Griesheim, who had sent us on this inhuman expedition. We were nothing more than his pawns, and he made us feel that again and again with his cold grin and artificial manner. "Hoffmann, think how privileged you are to be able to carry out such, shall we say, challenging undertakings alongside Ahrend. Really, it's almost as if you're complaining because I save you from the monotony of everyday life!"

In front of me, the sergeant trudged on undeterred. His steps looked awkward as he struggled through the knee-high blanket of snow. His gray coat barely stood out from the soup of fog around us.

I let my gaze wander upwards, towards the mountain peak that we still had to reach today and which could only be glimpsed between the clouds, snow and fog. In these weather conditions and with the enemy behind us, our plan seemed impossible.

At the next step, there was a crack. A slab of ice, about half a meter in diameter, crumbled away downwards, pulling the surrounding snow with it as if into a funnel. A crevasse had opened up in front of me, about three meters long and one meter wide, sloping steeply downwards, who knows how deep.

I scanned the edge of the crevasse with my boot. The crampon clinked softly. I crouched down, pulled my torch out of my coat pocket and shone it in. The various layers of snow and ice shimmered turquoise in the light and became darker and darker towards the bottom, with millions of silvery snow crystals glistening in between. The wind howled around my ears like a wounded animal.

Emil stepped up next to me. "The gap isn't wide. We can jump across."

"You probably ..." I started, but was interrupted by a howling sound. I looked up at Emil. "Do you hear that?"