"Well, all right. I heard from a farmer there might be a vet down in Aldergrove. I was going to head down there myself in a day or two but it seemed pretty dangerous!"

Old Willie looked at them, sizing them up,

He led them along the irregular wall of wood surrounding the fort. Around the corner was an open-sided wood building, like a shed or stable. The ground was lined with long cut grass.

Inside were 2 elephants, one lying down and the other standing next to it. The one on the ground appeared wounded, and there was some makeshift bandaging on the left side. The standing one eyed the newcomers with suspicion, but didn't trumpet.

"The one standing up is a bull, "Hephalump", the one lyin' down is "Woozle", a cow. Woozle got shot a little while ago. Surprised some hunter. The hunter, well, he had a bit of an accident and, ah, didn't make it, I done what I could, eh?"

Mac looks more than a little surprised. He'd not seen an elephant since before the war, in a zoo and nowhere near this close!

"Well, I may not know much about elephants, but a bullet wound is a bullet wound. Did you manage to get the bullet out?"

He advanced cautiously, reaching for his medic pack.

"I'm pretty sure that if we've got any vets in the UBC, they'll want to see these beauties," Andy said, "would you like me to get our mobile element to relay a message to our base?"

The male, Hephalump, moved in between Mac and Woozle.

"No, didn't find the damn bullet. Tried, couldn't. Easy there, Hephalump old boy!" Old Willie fed the bull some peanuts from a feed sack, and the bull took it with his trunk.

"There, just be slow. HE COULD STOMP YOU FLAT JUST LIKE THAT! So be careful, eh?"

He replied to Andy, "sure, bring 'em in. They're welcome, here."


I guess Mac could make a 1st aid roll [2d20Low]! He is a battlefield medic, after all. And a Resolve roll [2d20L] to avoid flinching... and a stomping.

Mac eased gently round Hephalump as he was distracted with peanuts, and knelt down beside Woozle.

"Easy there, girl... let's have a look at you."

Mac was very nervous around such large and unpredictable creatures, he'd never been this close to an elephant in his life and had no idea how tame they could be. He tried to keep his voice and movements calm.

In reply to Christopher Little Hawk MacDonald (msg # 602):

Mac couldn't stop from flinching and Hephalump fixed an evil eye on him, trumpeting and stomping around. Old Willie calmed him down with more peanuts, and the bull decided to let Mac live for now.

Woozle, for her part, seemed to me more relaxed under Mac's care. Putting on some purple Nitrile gloves, Mac probed tenderly probed the wound with some forceps. It looked bad, he could tell, even if the bullet could be removed there was a probable infection to deal with. Whichever, it was beyond his skill!

"Well, the bullet's in deep, but it needs to come out. And she's probably got an infection.." said Mac. "I'm afraid this is really beyond my skill - and I don't want to harm such a beautiful animal. Andy, can you see if you can whistle up a veterinarian?"

"I'll do what I can," Andy said. He picked up the radio and called the mobile team, "This is Rook Two to Knight. We have a non-combat situation here that requires consultation with home base. Request that either you come in immediately to assess the situation or ask the RTO to patch me through to base, Over."

Roger that. I understand is safe to move in?

The message was puzzling. While waiting for the answer the Ukrainian made visual contact with the crew of the humvee. They were about to move. Finally.

"Rook Two to Knight," Andy replied, "site is safe, over."

Andy looked over at their host, "Our mobile element is moving in. As soon as they get here I'll arrange to contact the UBC and see what resources we can bring to your problem."

Kelsey looked back at Taras in the Cougar and shrugged slightly, grinning.

"Let's go meet and greet, I'll slave my hip unit to the vehicle main."

She reached over to let her largest vehicle mounted antenna fly up and waited on orders.

Lets roll!

The vehicles quickly moved to the parking lot. There was a visitor centre separated from the fort by a treelined concrete walkway.

The Staff Sergeant and the Pole climb down from their armored vehicle and to the outpost. The soldiers who had steeled themselves to fight are once again preparing to sit and join the locals. Such is the nature of the missions at the rearguard of a Thirl World War.

Most of the morning is gone and now they are gathered in front of their fleet. The  Sergeant double-checks the body armor, thumping the kevlar with his fist and tugging on loose straps. Taras adjusts his AKS-74U as well. The front loop of the sling attaches at the front hanguard retainer, the rear loop attaches at the buttstock swivel. The sling is an old issue with leather loops, it's a pain in the butt to put on and remove. Taras is thinking about to get it replaced in the armory as soon as the day trip is finished.

Kelsey sets Tremblay on guard on the 240 and makes sure the HMMVW has a good mix of what cover there is and a good useful lane of fire before she joins the others.  She hangs her kevlar off her canteen and puts on her Glengary.  Always good to show folks in Western territories that she belongs, and if they recognize that the markings on her uniforms don't match that Glengary, all the better, it would be a talking point since her uniform still bore the markings of the last Regular Army unit she'd been attached to, the Van Doos.

She carried her Canadian made carbine in a low read combat sling, easy to bring into action, but it looks pretty relaxed.  She walked up to the others with a smile.

"So from what I gather we have a friendly squatter?  Wonder if we can sign him up into the military?"  She looks thoughtful, possibly excited about the recruiting prospect.  "Now, really cool would be is he was like an amateur radio operator..."

With a final handful of peanuts to pacify Hephalumph, Old Willie led them both back to the gate.

"Before now, the elephants grazed in the fields and from the trees to the east of town. That area is deserted, 'cause people think the fort is haunted. There was that one hunter, I guess he decided game would be more plentiful because of that... now I guess people think it's more haunted than ever!"

Pulling back the bar, he opened the wooden gate. Taras, Kel, William and the others could see it opening from where they were parked on the street. Old Willie stepped through and waved them over.

Kelsey headed over with a big grin on her face towards the now open gate, speaking with her normal Quebec accent, after all English was her second language.  She was being her gregarious self at it's best.

"Hello sir!  I am Sergeant Kelsey Champlain!"

In reply to Kelsey Sarah Champlain (msg # 614):

Hawke pulled the vehicle to a stop where it was indicated.

With a final pat, Mac left Wuffles and edged warily around Heffalump, following Willi to the gate to greet the others.

"Hey there. May I introduce Willi Mazurinski, a veteran of the Royal Canadian Regiment, no less. The problem is, he has, would you believe, a couple of elephants, only one has a nasty bullet wound and really ought to be seen by a veterinarian."

In reply to Christopher Little Hawk MacDonald (msg # 616):

"I'm no vet, but I've done enough extractions.  Want me to take a look?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:16, Mon 18 Feb 2013.

Andy looked over at Taras, "Good to see you. I'd like us to patch a message through to base to see if they have a vet on staff. We can make the pick up if needed. I'd hate to lose such a beautiful creature if we can do anything to help."

Kelsey winked and grinned at Mac in passing, even flirtatiously!  Then moved on to greet Willi with a rather formal salute and a serious face, intoning equally seriously

"Pro Patria!"


She greets him with the motto of the RSR, much nicer than calling him a Rubber Chicken, then with a smile she switches to fluently smooth French with a touch of a mocking tone.

"Mais je me souviens, mon ami."

(But I remember, my friend) imbedding the slogan of the Royal 22nd within it, still saluting.

In reply to Kelsey Sarah Champlain (msg # 619):

The old man laughed, amused. He ushered them inside the fort, then showed the dismounts the injured animals.

"Good lord! There's a woman under that Scotch cap! A Van Doo, at that! I was out of the Forces before the whole Charter of Rights thing came in. So much doom and gloom, whining about "political correctness" destroying the army and whatnot. Glad I wasn't around to see it, but we survived Unification when I joined in '60 and it can't be worse'n that."

The CF became unisex (for lack of a better word) and gay-friendly via a Supreme Court ruling on a "Charter challenge" (the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, Canada's Bill of Rights) in 1989. There had been much wailing and gnashing of teeth over these catastrophic changes to a very tradition-bound force. But the Forces survived.

In fact, it was no worse than "Unification" in 1968, when the 3 services (Army, Navy, Air Force) were all merged into 1 unified service (like the JSDF or IDF) to save money. They even went so far as to issue a common green CF uniform and 1 unified rank scheme for all "elements" (Ground/Mobile, Maritime and Air Commands). Both measures were obviously insanely unpopular and soon dropped, while officially there still was no longer a "Canadian Army", even if everyone knew the ground-pounders really were.

GM Note: so whoever wants to be inside the Fort can do so, assuming Taras concurs!

Kelsey follows the old man in.

"This woman can do anything the boys can, that matters, sir."

She says with little trace of a French accent, but with a smile and and a bit of pride in her voice.  "Les hosties de queues plates don't tolerate any slack."  She said, using a nickname for her regiment that the old man would likely recognize.  "Male or female, you slack, you push pencils instead of bullets."  She taps her rifle to emphasize what SHE pushes.

She looks to Taras "Sergeant Taras, I can try to get a signal to base, might take a big antenna though."

He looked thoughtfully at her for a second. "Fair enough. I was in a circus (service) battalion and HQ unit, I wasn't a gravel technician. You shoot straight, you're good enough for my army!