Exhausted from climbing for 2 days and a night in three foot thick snow, close in trees, not much to eat, we fell asleep in a hut we came upon.
It seemed like minutes later when we heard gunfire. The Germans had spotted the other guys socks he had hung out to dry. Shoot, then ask questions.
I flew out the back window. He was right after me. I had to carry him – he was hit. I shoved him down a chute and jumped in after. We both landed in a creek.
From then on, I had to carry him. Well, I carried him up the mountain and pushed him in the snow down it as I climbed up and down, up and down ultimately gaining more altitude. Resting every 10 minutes, it seemed. Slow going. But having Germans shooting at your back gives lots of reasons to keep going.
I learned years later this was the roughest of the Pyrenees – the better to evade Germans who didn’t like to climb steep terrain. I wasn’t so keen on it either.
I went as far as I could go, found some cover for us and holed up for a quick nap. I just could not get one more foot in front of the other.
I only catnapped though – one eye and one ear listening for footsteps or crunching on the snow.
c. GCYI