Early in World War One, a young Canadian soldier is wounded and trapped behind German lines. He uses quick thinking and ingenuity to evade capture, then deeper into enemy territory, he meets a young woman who recently lost her father and brothers to...
It was starting to get light, but the sun was not yet up as Maria led David and Rachel along the trail angling upwards across the side of the hill. As daylight increased, David pointed to the trees. "I'm surprised by the symmetrical appearance of the forest. The trees here are lined up in rows. So different from the natural forests back home. It looks as if these slopes have been planted like crops."
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"The story I've been told," Rachel said, "is the trees were stripped from the hills here and floated down the Rhein to the Netherlands, first to build trading ships for the East Indies, then for pilings and shorings to build in the low lands in the river deltas. Well over a century ago they ran out of easily accessible trees and somebody, I can't remember who, but someone organised a replanting program. There are still some wild, original patches of forest, but mostly high up where the trees were too small and remote to be worthy of harvesting. Also, higher up are many open meadows where forests once stood, barren land where the forests haven't yet been able to regenerate."
The trail was good, and they were the only ones on it. "Today's Friday," Rachel said. "Most people are working, probably be the same tomorrow, but Sunday will be busier."
"It looks like it's possible to be across on the far side of Feldberg by evening." David glanced at his watch. "It's twenty to eight. We're almost to the junction with Schauinslandweg, according to that sign. From my memory of the map, it's about three more hours of uphill grinding to reach the top of the ridge."
"We would make it from the centre of Freiburg to the ridge top in under three hours," Rachel said, "but that was with light packs for summer picnics. We've already gained almost two hundred metres. The sign at the junction should show the el —"
Maria put up her hand, stopped and turned to the others with her finger to her lips. She pointed to the side of the trail and quickly headed behind some bushes up the slope. David and Rachel copied her movements. They sat in silence half a dozen feet up the slope and watched a nine-man squad of soldiers with rifles and large rucksacks heading up the main trail ahead of them, talking loudly and laughing as they went.
"We're likely fine," Maria said after they had passed, "Mama and I have proper German papers, and David, or rather Josef, has a sick leave chit and face bandages. He's off hiking with his fräulein before he heads back to the Front. The story sounds good to us, but it's best we not have to test it on them."
"I think it makes sense to avoid them," David said. "It's hard to guess what they report and what they do with the reports. It's best not to press our luck. We can hope the other squads are as undisciplined and noisy as this one, you can still hear them." He looked around. "This is a good time and place for a break, anyway. We've been going steadily for nearly four hours."
"I wonder where they're going. Does it make sense for us to head up the slope off the trail?" Maria asked.
"The going will be slow and tiring with all the undergrowth, uneven ground, rock outcrops, gullies, windfalls." David pointed at the slope. "It would be like mountain approaches in Canada, where there are practically no trails. We'll go half the speed and get twice as tired."
