Chapter eighteen:
For the Congo II--- 1907
A humbling experience.
It took some time, but I eventually arranged all my preparations on the dinner table. Across from me sat Conrad and Nicholas, their expressions unreadable, their patience unnerving.
"This is all you've brought?" Conrad asked, his tone laden with both curiosity and subtle disapproval.
"Uh, yes. Is something wrong with it?" I replied, feigning confidence.
"It's not so much what you've brought, Adolf, but rather what's missing," Conrad said pointedly. He turned to Nicholas. "Take notes for him."
With a brief nod from Nicholas, Conrad continued, "Let's begin with what you do have. A lighter, a can opener, canned food, a bag, some extra socks, a mug, and two maps. Walk me through your reasoning for each, in that order."
"Alright," I began hesitantly, "I chose the lighter because it's the most dependable fire starter. Even with damp or green wood, it should work in an emergency. Besides, the wilderness part of my trip should only last two days at most."
"The canned food is practical; it's all I could find that holds up well in difficult environments. The bag is for carrying everything, and the two maps are a precaution—one to serve as a backup if the other gets damaged," I explained.
Conrad wasted no time in critiquing my choices. "The lighter is decent, but you'll need more. Matches and a small flint and steel are essential backups. As for your can opener and canned food, those are acceptable—no major issues there."
After offering that faint praise, Conrad paused briefly, allowing Nicholas to catch up on his notes.
"As for the food, you've chosen items that are sufficiently energy-dense. However, your bag would start to strain your shoulders after just four miles."
"The straps are too narrow and set uncomfortably close to your neck. On the positive side, you've positioned the bag to rest on your upper spine, which is ideal."
"You'll need to acclimate yourself to the rucksacks we use. As for the mug, that was a poor choice. It's impractical for filtering water. Care to explain your reasoning?"
Suppressing the sting of his critique, I replied, "Well, I brought the mug thinking we could refill at water sources in the town rail station or at the village. It's only twenty miles total—ten miles per day."
Conrad exhaled sharply. "That's naïve thinking, Adolf. Sure, we could do it, but drinking that water without purification would be reckless."
"Moreover, in an emergency—if something delays us or forces us off-trail on the way to or from the village—having only that would spell disaster. In this terrain, ten miles a day isn't even realistic for you at this point."
"Eight or nine miles would be your absolute limit, even if you push yourself hard."
"And finally, the maps. Having a backup is wise, but it should be sealed in something waterproof. I typically coat mine with candlewax and break the seal when needed. There are other methods to safeguard them as well. Any questions, Adolf?"
I shook my head. "Not at the moment, sir. After hearing your explanations, it all makes much more sense."
"Alright then, let's go over what you missed: a compass, a pan for food or water, iodine to purify the water, sturdy hiking boots, a medical kit, a reliable drinking flask, bandages or cloth to protect your skin from the insects—which are terrible this time of year—an alternate return route marked on your map, and secondary water sources also noted. Oh, and one of the most critical items: a proper tent."
The mention of the tent stung. How could I have overlooked something so fundamental? I had meticulously planned every other aspect on paper but had given no thought to a suitable tent.
"Now, Adolf, let's discuss the skills you'll need to master before we can finalize the dates for the expedition."
Once Conrad ensured Nicholas was ready with a fresh page in his notebook, he resumed.
"You'll need to learn several essential skills: how to properly pack a rucksack, handle minor leg fractures, navigate using a compass, purify water, set up our tents, stop bleeding, treat a gunshot wound, establish emergency check-in dates with people back home, convert currency, secure a translator, pace yourself effectively, and safely operate a firearm. Additionally, we'll cover any other necessary skills Nicholas or I think of during your three months of training."
"What? Three months? Why do I need to spend that much time on all of this?"
"I planned to have this wrapped up by the end of June! I don't even need half of these skills—it's only a three-week trip, four at most if there are delays."
"Most of the journey will be spent on a boat or a train."
Conrad regarded me with what I took to be understanding. "You're right—it's overkill to an absurd degree. This isn't some life-threatening expedition."
"An ordinary person could probably manage this trip without issue. But the reason your brother hired us is exactly why we must spend three months training you."
"Your brother had to make some... concessions with your mother last night to keep her from doing something drastic."
"So, he insisted on hiring the best of the best and ensuring you'd be prepared for the worst, as he phrased it."
I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled heavily. It made sense, in a frustrating way. Gustav had leveraged all his charisma to placate her, and this was the compromise he'd steered her toward—not outright sabotage, but forcing me into an exhaustive level of preparation.
I couldn't entirely blame her. She'd lost Father only a few years ago, and now she was staring down the possibility of losing one of her sons. It was a pain I would simply have to endure.
"Alright, Conrad, where do we begin?"
Conrad glanced at the cluttered table before turning to me. "First, I'll teach you how to pack your bag properly. After that, we'll head out for a hike."
Once he finished speaking, Conrad stood up and left the room for a few minutes, leaving Nicholas and me to sit in silence at the table.
Eventually, Conrad returned and placed an empty rucksack on the table in front of me, ready to give his instructions.
"Alright, Adolf. Since you don't have enough gear for proper weight distribution, place everything at the bottom of the bag for now. Tuck the map into the front slip. For training purposes, keeping the weight at the bottom will challenge your balance."
"This uneven distribution will make maintaining your balance more difficult. Later, when we add more weight, you'll distribute it evenly, with slightly more toward the top, to prevent spinal strain."
I followed his instructions, undoing the top flap and carefully tucking my gear past the side compartments and into the bottom. Handling the maps with extra care, I slid them into the top compartment. As I did, I noticed the manufacturer's label inside the bag: 'Raytheon Technology, U.S.A.' Once everything was packed, Conrad lifted the bag twice, testing its weight.
"It's too light, Adolf. Grab four to six empty milk bottles, fill them with water, and cap them tightly."
I thought the bag was already heavy enough, but not wanting to argue with one of my guards, I stood up and complied. Even then, it was clear this training was going to be grueling. My gratitude to Gustav was growing more ironic by the moment.