Ah, good. Carter found the 'scape tunnel… I think. 'e looks like the ruddy March Hare, disappearing down a hole… I'm so bloody tired… but not much farther to go. Why isn't Kinch going down the rabbit hole… 'cause Kinch isn't a rabbit. He's a knight in shining armor 'olding a damsel in distress, he is. Fancy that! Wait… When was Kinch knighted? What? That's not right, is it?

Newkirk shook his head trying to clear his thoughts, causing him to lose his balance and fall heavily onto his hands and knees on the rock-hard forest floor not far from the escape tunnel. His chapped, raw hands were now in agony, but Newkirk couldn't figure out why. Confusion, exhaustion, and loss of coordination were all symptoms of hypothermia. The long trek back to camp without a coat had taken its toll on the thin Englishman.

Earlier that night, he had finally snapped at Carter the third time Carter tried to get him to wear his coat. "Andrew, stop shoving your bleedin' coat at me and get back out front where you belong! I'm fine; just bringing up the rear and watchin' our backs. Your job is to get us back to camp as fast as possible and NOT to get us lost. You can't do that if you keep coming back 'ere, now can you? If I see your face one more time I'll… I'll hurt you! Understand?"

Newkirk hoped he sounded forceful enough to hide the sound of his chattering teeth. He hated the kicked puppy-dog look Carter gave him, but at least Carter didn't leave his position in front of the rag-tag rescue group after that. Shortly thereafter, Newkirk began shivering so hard that he actually regretted not accepting Carter's coat. By that time though, Carter and Kinch were well ahead of him, so Newkirk just wrapped his arms tighter around himself and slowly walked on.

Now Newkirk was so exhausted that he actually considered simply laying down on the frozen ground where he fell. He knew he was close to the security of the tunnel, but he just couldn't figure out how to get back on his feet to actually make it there.

Kinch is still in sight… that's a good thing, right? No… 'e needs to go down the rabbit hole straight away…So do I… just can't remember how or why…

In the back of his head, Newkirk thought he could hear Col. Hogan. "Newkirk! You can't stop. Move! You're so close. Move now! I know you can do it. I have faith in you."

Col. Hogan was the first person to believe in Newkirk in a very long time. He was the only officer that Newkirk ever respected, but that wasn't as important to Newkirk as the fact that Hogan simply was a good man who always put the welfare of his men first. So, if Col. Hogan wanted him to move, then he was going to move even if it seemed a physical impossibility to do so. Newkirk very slowly, painfully, began crawling towards the tree stump that held the escape tunnel.

I can't stay out here…have to keep moving…somehow. The colonel always knows what's best...

The next thing Newkirk was aware of was his head bumping into something hard. Kinch was nowhere in sight and all that Newkirk could hear was the wind howling through the trees. Just keeping his eyes open was too exhausting. With his last conscious effort, Newkirk curled up in as tight a ball as he could, attempting to preserve what little warmth his body had remaining. He had no idea that he had actually reached the escape tunnel. Maybe fate was kind; to be only inches away from life-saving warmth and safety, yet not able to reach it, would truly be a cruel last realization.