Id's father managed to make it into the bunker safely, but he and the two other survivors soon perished when a ghost unlocked the bunker's door and two zombies barged in.
Possessing unparalleled tenacity (or stubbornness), I decided to try to reclaim Wipedboots once again, but this time I will succeed. No fuckin' around, I'm going to reclaim this bitch. The Boats of Paper set off with ingredients to make several bars of steel, some weapons and ammo, some stone, lots of wood, and some provisions and seeds to keep the dwarves alive. The dwarves themselves were a miner-mason, two marksdwarves, a farmer, a furnace operator, a bonecarver to make bolts, and an armorer. The plan was to immediately build a wall around the wagon as soon as it stopped, and then to burrow deeply and safely beneath the earth and begin turtling like there was no tomorrow.
This worked out well until a few zombie ravens flew down the staircase. One savaged a marksdwarf pretty severely, ripping his hand off and breaking several of his bones before going down and, since the entrance to the fortress is in the haunted tundra, soon reanimated and was a gigantic pain in the ass to deal with. Once the zombies make it into the fort once, they become extremely difficult to deal with no matter how easily my soldiers can kill them. The farmer died of his wounds after fighting with a zombie raven, as did several other dwarves as the entrance staircase became clogged with dangerous corpses.
The four survivors, which consisted of the miner-mason, the bonecarver, a horribly mangled marksdwarf with an empty quiver, and a furnace operator with a broken spine, safely sealed themselves behind first a locked door and then a wall of solid stone, completely without food or sustenance. With the tunnel between the survivors and their food being full of blood-thirsty zombies, the dwarves' only chance of survival lay in finding the caverns.
With no conceivable chance of surviving his maims, the poor marksdwarf was preemptively sealed behind a stone wall so that his corpse would not pose any danger to the living dwarves after his passing. His muffled sobs chilled the other three, but nothing else could be done for him.
At last the salvation that the dwarves sought was reached, and the two capable dwarves drank greedily from a subterranean pool. The furnace operator, unable to make the long descent to the cavern system, crawled around the bunker trying to hunt rodents. In typical dwarven fashion, the miner postponed digging the tunnel that would bring him to delicious naturally growing plump helmets so that he could hunt rats instead, dooming himself and his compatriots to die of starvation.
I think I've reached my tenacity's limit; aluminum or no, that was my last Wipedboots reclaim attempt.