Bat Bomb by Jack Couffer

Author:Jack Couffer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University of Texas Press
Published: 1992-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

14

Bandera

WE NOW HAD GENERAL McCLELLAND’S authorization to proceed with the next phase of testing, the all-important study of how to control the bat’s hibernation processes. Doc was assigned his long-coveted staff car; with the ex-gangster driving, Doc, Bobby, von Bloeker, and Wiswell headed for Texas. I took off after them with Fletch, Williams, Eddie, and the Benish brothers, from Santa Ana, California, where Holt signed the requisition forms for the command car and two jeeps that had been assigned to our outfit. Tim would follow on the first available military flight to San Antonio after we arrived. It was the beginning of our intimate look into the lives of the bats.

We drew tents, beds, and blankets from an Army base at Hondo, Texas, bought pots and pans and the other household items we would need to be self-sufficient, and divided our forces between Ney Cave and Bracken Cave, some ninety miles apart on opposite sides of San Antonio. Fletch and I paused for a night in Bandera, renewing acquaintances and making new ones at the OST Cafe. Then Fletch and I set up camp at Ney; Williams, Eddie, and the Benishes at Bracken. V. B. and Wiswell would shuttle back and forth on their errands of data collection and supervision. Holt ensconced himself where there was a phone, with Doc and Bobby in Bandera. The three of them, involved as they were in the politics and business of keeping the brass from forgetting us, traveled often to California and Washington.

Wiswell had brought with him a crate of environmental monitoring equipment, with sets for each cave consisting of barographs, recording thermometers, and wet-dry thermometers to check humidity. The humidity test, the only one not automatically logged, had to be made by hand four times a day from various stations within the caves. It meant that somebody—in the case of Ney, Fletch or me—had to climb in there every four hours, all the way to the last station, 1,000 feet from the mouth to the very end of the cave, whirl the instrument on its swivel handle like a bull-roarer, and jot down the data.

Winter, with what we believed to be its attendant hibernation time, was approaching and Wiswell wanted to gather enough environmental statistics over the period of transition so he could chart the atmospheric changes that presumably (along with other as-yet-unknown factors) would cause the bats to hibernate.

Fletch and I, who took turns recording the data from within the cave, each drew from Hondo Army base supply a set of mechanic’s coveralls; when tied tightly at ankles and wrists, they stopped most of the bugs. A cowboy hat kept the rain of guano out of our collars and ears, but there was nothing to do about the smell. That we merely endured—a discomfort we eventually got used to, if not fond of.

As Rugh said, “You can’t spend yer life in a bat cave, wallerin’ in ca-ca, and hate the stink. Else you’d go plumb batty yerself.”

Even today, when I pass

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.