Escape to the German woods

It was the summer of 2002 in Southern Germany. Training was in full swing for Bosnia. The days were filled with training to prepare us for a NATO Peacekeeping in the Balkans.

Our home in the Countryside was a simulated Base, complete with guard towers and a large fence that seemed more like a prison than our home.
I was a good soldier, an example to follow. As guidon, I carried the flag of the Unit and trained hard, always setting the example.
We were part of an elite unit, one that had not deployed as a National Guard unit for a long time.

The mantra for my brothers was " work hard, play hard", and our time here had been nothing but hard work. Leadership spoke with forked tongue and promises were constantly broken. The men were told that if we worked hard we would have time off and every promise seemed to evaporate as the time went by.

The men did have an entertainment of sorts, a secret social meeting. The boys who made it back to the main base, under threat of severe, discipline procured small bottles of alcohol. The small "airline" bottles of various flavors were stored in hidden cellars, carved out of the earth beneath our cots in the tents. Some "cellars were quite elaborate with false bottoms and stone lids covered with earth as to leave no trace.
The cocktail hour involved a strange mixture of alcohol, some sort of available mixer, and mixed in a canteen cup. A guard was posted at the door, the tent flaps were drawn, and music and conversation ensued. Usually the cool sounds of Diana Krall filtered thru the tent as we recounted the pretty girls home, the future, or a spirited discussion of current events.

It was at one of these spirited gatherings that a plan was hatched. We were promised two weeks off, then one, then possibly a supervised day trip to Munich or Nuremberg. This would not stand.

Our plan was simple, a covert action to escape to the German Countryside.
The closest civilization was a town called Shmidmulen. Six kilometers away.
Under the guise of training a recon team would leave the confines of the camp, and gather intell. They left the next day and returned shortly before nightfall.

The report was that there was a passage, however they only made it to the outskirts of the forest. Upon making there way down out of the forest, they came to a stream and heard the sound of laughing girls. Some local German girls were swimming in the stream in their underwear. After some broken German communication the recon team ended up swimming with the girls and returned mission not accomplished.

The whole event was not met with disdain, but we were very amused, and it fueled our commitment to escape more.

Two days later, it was time to try. Three of us in the early evening, ran out of the camp which was authorized for training only.
Our spirits were high as we feigned running the Countryside, our leaders were impressed that we made the initiative. What they did not know is that our "Camelbacks", hydration systems were filled with not water, but civilian clothes and amenities to bathe.

Into the early evening we ran, out of sight of the camp. Up a steep hill and finally out of sight we found the route off the base and into the dark pine forest surrounding the Base. After twenty minutes jogging in the forest, we found the stream that was our marker to turn and move South.

We ditched our Army clothes and jumped into the stream to bathe. The water was ice cold. No half naked German girls were there but we were ecstatic at our good fortune.
Using our uniforms as a towel, we hid our clothes and turned South and moved along the edge of the pine forest and on the left a Barley field.

Along the field we made our way until we arrived at the outskirts of the village.
Streams all intersected, arched bridges, stone streets, and gas lamps.
A misty rain was falling as a town steeple chimed. We made our way along the town streets till we came upon the sound of libation.

The boys entered the nondescript building and found a crowd of jovial locals enjoying life and the peace of non obligation.

Beautiful local German girls, ten tall glasses, and a German man who showed us the talent of chewing the glass of a pilsner glass.

At the end of the night we ran along the barley field with the snort of wild boar haunting us. Still a misting rain, we ran to our clothes, falling down as we tried to get back in our uniform. Back to reality we ran, feeling no pain just joy, singing Troop songs and feeling like Kings.

Back to reality, our future. One by one we crawled under a gap in the camp fence, and sneaked back to our tents.

As I lay in my cot, the misting rain had turned to a steady rain. I put my earphones on and listened to the haunting sounds of Sting and the Soul cages album and I felt at peace and smiled as I faded off to sleep.
We would live again, we would live four more times........