Alliance in the Ice - The Guardians of Noindaith

Copper Heights - Soldier Paul

I was glad when we reached the San Antonio base station at the eastern foot of the mountain range, which consisted of a wooden hut and a few tents. In between, the tired soldiers sat on the trampled snow or on crates, cleaning their boots or playing cards. I took off my rucksack and stretched my back. Fortunately, the descent hadn't been very strenuous, so I still felt relatively alert. The white peaks of several mountains towered high into the sky and offered an impressive sight.

Ahrend talked to the station commander in the hut and took a few letters for the army command in Vindisburg. From here it was another day and a half through the mountains to the capital, and it would take another two days through the foothills and the Campus Padanus lowlands. We would have to take the ferry to Vindisburg itself. According to Ahrend, we had no time to lose, so we took our legs in our hands, albeit on skis again.

We waved cheerfully to our comrades as we left, even if they only gave us a grumpy nod of the head. Then we set off again to tear up the kilometers. We pulled Kaya in the sled, which we had padded out properly. She was feverish and her eyes were twitching. The journey visibly took its toll on her.

We followed the course of the mountain ranges, took existing paths on the ridges or followed the clear streams that meandered through the narrow valleys between scree slopes. With the sledge in tow, we had to overcome masses of snow and boulders. Twice we spent the night in a hut along the way, fortunately on quite comfortable straw bags. In the second hut, we swapped the sledge for a trolley and left our skis behind.

As the terrain became flatter and the ground less rocky, we waded through swamp and mud. Our boots sank into the mire up to our shafts. Fighting against nature required all our strength, but we didn't allow exhaustion to set in.

It was only when the mountains were finally behind us that the snow cleared and the grass became green and full. Thanks to the warm wind coming from the sea, it was barely colder than five degrees south of the mountains in the foothills, even in winter.

However, the overgrown fields still gleamed white here and there. Rusty mowing machines and animal carcasses were scattered around, giving the landscape an oppressive appearance. Abandoned farmhouses crumbled between makeshift graves.

Once we passed a village that the enemy had occupied for a long time. The children approached shyly, wearing worn-out clothes that flapped around their skinny arms and legs, some of them had no shoes at all. They begged from a distance and gave us shy looks from deep sockets in their eyes. Only when we held out our commissary bread to them did they shyly come closer and a smile flashed across their dirty faces. Unfortunately, we couldn't leave much for the children because our rations, which consisted of bread, canned stew and coffee substitute, were meagre. But even if the many sufferings of the war had already dulled me, these children's eyes reflected all the misery in a strange way. We were gripped by sheer horror and we made sure we got on quickly before our hearts became too heavy.

It got even warmer in the lowlands, so we took off our coats and tied them to our rucksacks. We avoided the open fields and took a zigzag course between trees and bushes, as it was not uncommon for enemy planes to penetrate inland. When we emerged from a wooded area and had to cross a field with few trees, Ahrend hesitated.

"It doesn't help," he sighed, clutched the straps of his rucksack and strode boldly ahead without making sure we were following him.

Halfway to a tree-lined stream, we promptly heard aircraft engines roaring overhead. Three bombers roared over our heads from the mountains, leaving a long trail of clouds in the sky. I couldn't tell from their shape whether they were our planes. The symbols on their wings were also unrecognizable, they were flying too high for that.