“Though there is a strip nearby, this is definitely not the
place to land. A few years ago, the Yali invaded a former village and chased
all the inhabitants out. The missionaries barely escaped. For a while, a few
neighboring villages had their missionaries pulled back to Tiom,” said Steve.
“That sounds pretty hairy. Have any missionaries been killed
by natives?” John asked.
“Our policy is to not go into an area or village if not
invited. God has opened a lot of doors, but there is still resistance. The
missionaries in that village over the ridge were killed by head hunters, and we
were never able to get back in. Our airstrip is still there, and the locals are
pretty friendly, but the neighboring village is still reluctant to accept
outsiders. Also, one of the villages you’ll be serving has a missionary there
named Marta Springer. A few years ago, after she and her husband Raymond
arrived, they were able to establish a great relationship with the village.
They built a church, held Sunday school, as well as an academic school for
teaching English and the basics of the three R’s. About two years after their
arrival, Raymond was killed by the Asmat, a tribe of headhunters.”
“Did they ever recover...you know... his…” John dreaded the
answer.
“Oh yeah, they all walked away after the confrontation. But
Raymond bled to death on the way back to Tarampurah.”
“That’s terrible. He could’ve lived with the right first
aid, it sounds like,” John said.
“Yeah, but there were no helicopters out here,” Steve said,
concentrating on the decaying weather.
“I know that story. A lot of our boys could’ve survived in
Vietnam if they hadn’t bled to death waiting for evacuation.”
They continued with the clouds graduating ever lower. Sheets
of rain forced them to turn toward the south attempting to find better weather.
However, maneuvering between mountains proved too dangerous.
“Remember that airstrip I was telling you about?” Steve
asked.
“Yeah, the abandoned one?”
“I don’t think it’s all that desperate, but help me look.
The visibility is too bad and I’m afraid we’re going to have to set her down.
I’d rather take my chances with an enemy I can see, than a mountain I can’t,”
said Steve.
“You’re the boss,” John said, nervously searching for
anything resembling a runway.
“Maybe the rain will cover our landing.” Steve put in a call
to Tiom. But he realized they were too low to be picked up. He’d given up
trying to reach them when the radio suddenly came to life.
“N7724V, this is Tarampura, over,” Marta Springer said.
“We have a problem. Can you relay to Tiom and tell Jason
that we have to set down because of the weather. Our present location is over
the abandoned airfield at Wampe. We’re going to try hold out until the rain
lets up, over.”
“Steve, be careful ...I can’t handle another tragedy, over.”
“Don’t worry, Tarampua. I’ve got that new pilot with me, and
we’ll be very careful. You might say a prayer for us anyway; it’s awful messy
up here, over,” Steve said.
“Please be careful and promise to let me know when you get
home safely, over.”
“Will do, out.” That was enough chatting. Steve had a plane
to fly.
Jeffrey W. Bennett, is the author of Commitment-A Novel and other non-fiction books, novels and periodicals.
