Willard
01-27-2007, 07:44 AM
Chapter 11
Dawn broke. Dave took this as a good sign. With the dawn came a southerly wind, which
quickly went about clearing the clouds. Dave felt a chill in the air, and was concerned
that the Indian Summer was done with the whole business, and ready for a little break.
He rose and stretched, his back cracking and legs groaning. ‘What the hell am I doing
here?’ Dave thought. ‘This sucks.’ He smiled. Remembering cold wet days in the Army,
he changed his attitude. ‘This doesn’t suck enough!’ He smiled. ‘Hooah, and all that.
Well, day, I am here and I’m gonna kick yer butt.’ With a feeling of defiance towards the
fate that had brought him to this point, Dave set about his work.
The family was still sleeping under the crudely camouflaged tarp. Working silently as he
could, Dave improved the camou job, trying not to overdo it and cause the whole thing to
collapse under its own weight. He then changed into his dry pants and shirt. Laying his
wet things in a sunny spot, he drank some water and ate an MRE cake for breakfast. After
brushing his teeth, he decided he needed to shave, and he did. Feeling refreshed, Dave
carefully reapplied his camo cream and made his morning toilet in a far corner of the
clearing, behind two of the great pine trunks. He then took out his cleaning kit and
cleaned the Makarov, and then the strangers SKS. Dave idly noted as he cleaned that it
was a 1954 stamped Russian SKS. The chromed blade bayonet, in addition to carrying a
wicked edge, was spray painted black. Dave decided Tony at least had some sense. It was
also equipped with a 30 round magazine that Dave found slow to remove and insert. He
cleaned Tony’s ammo, drying it, and reloaded the weapon. He then cleaned the FAL
thoroughly, and unloaded all of his magazines, cleaned them, and reloaded them, one at a
time. He double checked the contents of his pack, making sure his radios and spare ammo
were still dry. He then changed into a dry pair of socks and liners, powdering his feet and
airing out his boots.
Dave checked the path he had cut in the dark, and decided it was OK for now. Refilling
his canteen from the soda bottle he had filled with the rescued spring water, Dave drank a
little more. He carefully and delibarately removed the waist belt from the pack, and
buckled it about his waist. He consulted his topo map, and using the blade of his
Leatherman cut out the two mapsheets that covered where he estimated they were. He
used a red alcohol marker to write “I will be back by 8 A.M., McGrath”, he propped the
open book up on Rhondas pack. He left the clearing by his own path, taking time to cover
his backtrail carefully. He halted at the edge, and listened for a bit. He shook his head to
wake himself. Last night had been long, cold, wet, and difficult. It was all he could do not
to fall alseep.
He circled the camp at about 150 meters out, identifying terrain and locating their spot on
the map. He found a small stream that lazed through the wood. As it wasn’t on the map
he figured that it was seasonal. He hoped it would remain flowing until he could return
with his water bladder. The terrain was typical eastern woodland-hardwoods and
pinetrees. The undergrowth was prolific, but still navigable. Dave sat under a low Oak for
while, listening for any indication of human prescence and pouring over his maps. Their
route would now take them through areas of widely diverse population centers. Small
towns, rural areas, a few larger cities. Roads crisscrossed the area, which had been settled
for over 350 years. Dave plotted a rough route in his head, along with two viable
alternatives. He noted obvious danger areas, water and road obstacles, and areas such as
state and town forests where he thought they could hole up if needed. Deciding on his
route for that night, he considered how much the family would hinder his journey home.
He considered and discarded leaving them. He felt responsible for their safety,
particularly since they had children. If anything happened to them Dave felt it would be
his fault, and he didn’t want to bear such a burden on his soul. He then took a moment to
consider his mortality, and got to his knees and prayed. He prayed for his family, he
prayed for his new wards, and he somewhat embarassingly prayed for himself, for
guidance, safety, and for the wisdom not to get the four kids and their parents killed.
Silently mouthing the Lord’s Prayer, Dave felt a peace wash over his insides. He hoped it
was the Holy Spirit responding to his plea. He was going to need all of the help he could
get.
Returning to what Dave thought of as a “Patrol Base”, Dave circled the copse again,
smelling wood smoke. He struggled to maintain his happy state as he gently wriggled and
crawled back into the pine glen, covering his route as he went. He turned to see Tony
sheepishly dropping his rifle from his prone position behind Dave’s pack. “It’s all right,”
Tony called out, far too loudly for Daves likings, “It’s Mr. McGrath.”
Tony stood up as his wife, with a 10/22, and his four kids came from behind the trees
where Dave had made his latrine that morning.
“Sorry to startle you,” said Dave, smiling at them. The look on their faces was one of
relief and fear just passed, “but I wanted to check out our AO and see what we were in.”
“I figured it was like that,” answered Tony, “but we had to be sure when we heard that
noise in the bushes.”
”That’s OK, you did the right thing,” replied Dave, “you’ve got good instincts. We do
need to make up a way….” Dave’s voice drifted off. “First things first, though. Come
here.” It was basically an order, and Tony followed. “You to, Rhonda.” Dave said,
pointing.
“What?” she asked, real concern in her voice. Dave walked over to where a fire burned.
Taking the small orange trowel from next to the freshly dug pit, Dave began smothering
the fire.
“What are you doing?” Asked Rhonda, “We was gonna cook breakfast and dry the kids
shoes and stuff.”
“They can smell this a half mile away, on a good wind. No fires, got it?” Anger was in
his voice.
“Yeah, I guess,” said Tony, “But why are you so pissed? It’s just a fire.”
“You could get us all killed with a fire. And quit talking so loud, cripes. They can hear
you in Springfield.” Dave finished his work. The entire family stood near, looking at
Dave as if we could snap at any moment. Dave stood, readjusting his chest pouch and
unbuckling his belt. “I’m sorry if I’m a hard…”his voice trailed, looking at the children,
“I’m sorry if I’m short, but this stuff is dangerous. You are not on a camping trip in the
Poconoes. You are a fugitive in a war zone. You need to start thinking like that, or you
won’t make it.”
“Well, we don’t know all this stuff. Heck, we’re just trying to get by. If you want us to do
this stuff, tell us. You don’t have to go yelling at Rhonda and scaring the kids, Mr.
McGrath. We want your help-heck, we’d still be out in the rain if it weren’t for you. But
don’t go off half cocked.” Tony was finished, his arms folded defensively.
Dave looked at him, hard. “Put the kids stuff in the sunny spots to dry. If you have dry
clothes for them, put them on. From now on, no loud voices.” He looked at the four kids.
“Especially you guys. Understand?” They all nodded, the two oldest looking a little
defiant. “Look,” began Dave, taking his rifle off of his neck and standing it on it’s butt,
holding the muzzle with his left hand, “I spent a long time in the Infantry. I can get you
through this. But if you start making noise and can’t control your kids, I’m outta here.
I’m willing to help you, but you need to put out 110%, understand?” The six heads
nodded. “You are no longer living in America, you’re in the wilderness being hunted by
blood thirsty Indians, and if you screw up, you’ll get scalped, OK?” More nodding. “Well
alrighty then,” said Dave.
Turning his attention to the parents, he said “Have you eaten?” They nodded. “Then
repack your bags as best you can. Take down the tarp. We’re going to leave at sunset,
you have all day to sleep, clean up, and rest. How are you set for water?”
Tony said, “We’re almost out.”
“OK, we can cure that, anybody hurt?”
Rhonda spoke this time, “No, just a few blisters.”
“We can do blisters, too. No worries there. I want use use the space behind those pine
trees,” he pointed, “as our latrine. We bury all waste, every time, right?”
“I’m going to get some sleep. Rhonda, try to keep the kids as busy as you can. Have a
watch?” Tony and Rhonda both nodded.
“I have a quarter til.” They both nodded their assent, “please wake me at 11:30, OK?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Rhonda.
Dave walked to his pack, the couple following. Dave took out his water bladder, which
was empty, and his mostly empty 2 liter bottle. “I’m going to show Tony where the
stream is. Get all of your water bottles.”
“Is the stream safe?” asked Rhonda, “I don’t want my kids getting sick and crapping all
over themselves.”
“Don’t worry,” said Dave, who didn’t need that kind of fun either, “I have a filter.”
Tony and Dave walked to the stream together, as silently as they could. Dave looked at
Tony. He was pretty good at moving in the forest. “You a hunter, Tony?”
“Yeah, black powder and some archery. Why?”
“You move like a hunter.”
After filling their bottles, Tony and Dave went back to the camp. Dave asked Tony to
lead the way, and he did, going directly back to the small opening. Dave said to Tony
“You go first so Rhonda doesn’t shoot me.”
Tony whispered “OK. I wish our radioes worked.” Dave grabbed him to stop him from
crawling, and asked in a hushed tone “WHAT radios?”
“Oh, Rhonda and me got those family radios. The oldest kids, too. But the batteries are
dead. We had them off of the charger ‘cause the power was off and on.”
Dave looked at him. “Let me see them when we get back to camp.”
“Yeah, sure, what’s the big deal?” and off he crawled, his SKS dragging in the dirt like a
short dogs long tail.
Dave examined the radios. Family Radio Service, or FRS, handhelds, small, but with
rechargeable batteries. Dave asked and was told “We kept them on chargers at home, but
with the bad power we unplugged them. I hoped they’d work, but the batteries are down.
We was hopin’ to get batteries somewheres.”
Dave grinned, removed the solar charger from his pack, and told him “Keep these in the
sun today and we’ll try to get the talkies up for tonight.”
“Great,” replied Tony, “this is sweet, and by sweet I mean totally cool.”
Dave gave further instructions to the couple, and suggested that they try to get the kids to
rest as it would be another long night. He asked Tony and Rhonda about the kids clothes,
and found that they had enough warm stuff to meet Dave’s approval. Knit hats, sweats,
fleece jackets. Rhonda was concerned that they didn’t have gloves.
“Do they have extra socks?” asked Dave.
“Yeah, sure,” she answered with a curious look on her face.
“Then they can wear them as mittens,” said Dave.
Rhonda blinked three times, delibarately. “How do you think of this stuff?” she asked.
Dave slept for most of the rest of the day. He was awoken promptly at 11:30, and set up
his radio, taking the time to deploy his expedient antenna, since he had the place and
luxury of doing so. At exactly noon he heard the voice of his friend Scott come over the
earpiece. “Freeland news had learned that the government is once again trying to smear
the name of a great American and Patriot. Dave McGrath of Connecticut was framed for
the murder of his in-laws and three Federal Stormtroopers. Witnesses to the scene,
however, report that a police raid started before dawn. A neighbor, Mrs. Eleanor
Buttinski,” Dave smiled wryly. That’s what Sandy and her folks called Mrs. Robidas
across the street, “reported that Mr. Peterson greeted the raiders at the door, a “big gun”
in one hand and a copy of the Constitution in the other. He got two at the door and fired
at the police for several hours, killing at least five, Mrs. Buttinski reports, and wounding
a lot more. Mr. McGrath’s wife was interviewed at their home in New Hampshire and
had this to say ‘My husband is at work right now, but I can tell you there’s no way he
would have harmed a hair on my parents heads if he was even down there. He’s a good,
loving man, and I know he loved my parents as his own. I’ll tell him so when he comes
back tonight.’” Scotts phony announcer voice continued, “So there it is, people. There are
German troops setting up roadblocks on all the main roads and backroads of the New
Hampshire border. Yes, Germans. This isn’t a half baked conspiracy theory. Already
elements of the New Hampshire State Guard have engaged them at least twice in
firefights as they pursued people across the border. 7-3-7-23-54-7-82-543-23-66-09.”
Dave struggled to write down the numbers.
“Now for a little musical entertainment.” Metallicas “Seek and Destroy” came on the air.
Dave shut it off. War was coming, and he didn’t want to hear that song again.
Using a card concealed in the battery compartment, Dave deciphered the message. “use
the trails” it said. “The trails”. Dave considered it. He was given direct info that the UN
troops were covering the roads. They must be road bound by mentality, Dave figured.
They’d use the trails. Dave took down his antenna, watched by the curious family.
Rhonda asked, “What was that all about, Mr. McGrath?” Dave turned. “My name is
Dave,” he said simply. “OK, Dave. What was that all about?”
“My friends and I have a commo network. I can reach them at any time on our frequency.
They broadcast to me every day at noon, because I move at night. It seems I was named
as a suspect in a terrorist act in Connecticut, and they let me know, in code, that they
knew it wasn’t me. They let me know that things are OK back home. Just now they
broadcast a special code to me, that I had to decipeher. They told me, in so many words,
that the UN goons have the roads covered, but that we should be OK on the trails. I know
a few trails that are off of the beaten path that lead us right into southern New Hampshire,
where we will be safe.”
“I see,” said Sandy, “Mr. Mc..I mean Dave, are you a survivalist?”
Dave couldn’t help but smile, “Just a survivor, Rhonda, like you.”
Dave was still tired, so he went back to sleep. Waking a few hours later, he repacked his
ruck, and checked on the batteries in the charger. Julia was watching it, and moving it
every so often to follow the dappled sunlight.
“My Mom said this was real important to do, but it’s really boring,” said the girl, keeping
her voice low.
“It is important, Julia,” answered Dave, “sometimes it’s like that. Why don’t you ask
your Mom or Dad for two radios, would you?”
Julia jumped up and scampered off. Dave repacked the charger, and got the charged set
of batteries from his pack. Tony came over with all four radios. “Lets try two out, Tony,”
said Dave, “By the way, my name is Dave.”
Tony nodded, “Rhonda told me. It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you. Lets load these puppies up and see what we’ve got.”
The radios worked fine. They settled on a frequency, and Dave explained that they would
change to that frequency plus three if there was interference or if they used the radio to
talk. Dave didn’t want to get DF’d. Turning off both of them, Dave placed one near his
pack. “Tony?”
“Yeah, Dave?”
“Let’s not use the call button that makes the loud beep, OK?”
“Yeah, sure Dave,” said Tony as he walked away.
Dave held a meeting shortly before dusk.
“I wanted to go over what’s going on. My friends have told me that the only way is on
trails, which is what I was going to do anyway. I know of four trails that we can reach in
one to two days, we’re trying to get to the closest for now. The kids need to move
between you guys. I’m not going to carry Cindy Lou Hoo tonight, I need to be on point
and it’s not the safest place for her. Have Jake help with her. Jake?” Jake nodded. “You
need to be a man now, and if anything happens to your folks and me take the kids back
the way we came. Tommorrow we should have batteries for your radio, so we can talk to
you, but for tonight, follow the backtrail for as far as you can go, then wait. One of us
will come for you. If we can’t, wait there a day, and walk to the east, where the sun
comes up. There’s houses and a town about two miles over that way. Follow the road
south, towards the sun. It’s the best I can do if that happens. It’s going to be cold tonight,
but remember it will be warm moving, so start out a little chilly, but keep your jackets in
the tops of your packs, OK?” the kids all nodded. “Rhonda, you in the middle, behind the
kids. Tony, you’re tail end charlie. Watch the rear, watch for straggling kids, and
remember, I have a radio, so we can talk. If I make contact…” he looked at their blank
faces, “ If I get shot at, high tail it past your Dad and go the way we came for 5 minutes.
Tony, you let them through, give me a minute, and then follow them. When you hook up,
go right for 500 yards and wait an hour for me. We’ll try to use the radios, but if you
think it’s me, make an animal noise.”
“What kind?” asked Tony.
“I don’t care. A zebra, an giraffe, an owl…”
Cindy laughed. “Giraffes don’t make a sound, Mister McGwath. They told us in school.”
“Really?” asked Dave, “the only thing I know about them is why their necks are so long.”
“Why are their necks so long,” asked the child.
Dave winked. “Cause their feet stink.”
The family laughed. “You’re silly, Mister McGwath,” the little girl said.
“Well, what animal?” Dave asked, returning to topic.
“I can quack like a duck,” said Jake.
“Fine. I hear you quack- I’ll ‘moo’ like a cow. Don’t shoot me, Tony.”
“I’ll try not to,” said a grinning Tony.
“Equipment check in ten,” said Dave.
“What’s that mean?” asked Julia.
“It means pack your stuff and get ready, ding-a-ling,” answered Jake.
“Well, I don’t talk Army,” was Julia’s retort.
Before they left, Dave repacked everything in his pack. He then spoke to Rhonda, who
brought over the family cookware. Discussing the kids palates, Dave and Rhonda decided
on a large can of SpaghettiO’s, to which Dave added a spaghetti MRE. Using two esbit
tablets, Dave lit them in a small hole he had dug with his hands. The medium sized
enamel pan Rhonda carried was just about full, and after what seemed like a long wait,
finally started bubbling over. Seeing that the others were fed, Dave took the remaining
food and ate it from his canteen cup. After eating, they cleaned their plates and repacked.
The kids put on their bags, Rhonda shrugged under the weight of her pack, and Tony
gave Dave a thumbs up from the rear.
Feeling warm and satisfied, Dave led them from their secluded forest getaway and into
the perils of the night.
Chapter 12
Dave led the family north. They trekked for an hour when Dave finally called a halt. He
wanted to give the kids time to rest and drink. He asked Rhonda to check their feet, and
make sure they drank some filtered water. After 15 minutes he headed out again.
Movement was slow, as moving in the dark in the woods usually is. The clear, crisp night
sky provided a little light, but it was not bright. Eventually Dave cut across a trail that
was not on his map. It ran in a roughly northerly direction. Dave looked up and down the
trail, then took a knee. Listening for a few minutes, he heard Rhonda and the kids
struggling through the grasping branches of the wood. Dave smiled for an instant. The
kids were doing really well. It was rough going for a kid in terrain like this in the dark,
and they weren’t complaining one bit. As they stepped onto the trail, Dave hissed to them
“Over here.” They walked a few paces to him, and Dave said, “Take a seat.” They sat
without a sound.
Rhonda came over, and took off her pack. Dave, too, dropped his pack. Leaning close to
Rhonda, Dave whispered, “I’m going to scout the trail. Keep the kids warm and have
Tony cover the back door.” “OK,” whispered back Rhonda.
Dave, unburdened by his pack, started up the trail. He felt a chill as the damp on his back,
from where the pack touched him, was cooled by the night air. Shivering for a second, he
followed the trail slowly for ten minutes, stopping twice to listen for unusual and out of
place sounds. Deciding he had gone far enough, Dave stepped behind a tree that was on a
corner of the trail. He could keep his trail to his immediate rear and look down towards
unexplored territory. He stood for a few minutes, the only sounds merely winds in the
trees and dead but unfallen leaves rustling from their branches. He removed his hat and
cupped his ear, as before. Listening intently, he was about to return to the family when he
heard something that caught his attention. He strained with all his being to make it out,
but the sound eluded him. Replacing his hat, Dave stepped back onto the track and
cautiously moved forward another 50 feet, and again removed his boonie and cupped his
hand. ‘Clink’. Definitely something unnatural. An e-tool on rock? Maybe. He listened for
a moment, and the noise repeated itself. Dave moved up another 30 feet and repeated the
action. More noises, another muffled ‘clink’. Definitely something. Dave felt he needed
to know what was going on. Was it a picket line being set up? Minefield? Were they
stringing wire to channel refugees? Road block? Dave knew there was a road ahead.
What was going on? He had to find out.
Crouching and duck walking, Dave made his way forward. Soon he saw white light
through the trees ahead, and heard the voices more clearly. A loud ‘clunk’ and a laugh,
then a loud voice that said something indecipherable. Dave crept closer still. He
considered his options, and decided to keep going. Creeping forward on his knees and
one hand, he kept his rifle ready. Dave felt the footsteps before he heard them, his left
hand on the ground feeling the ‘thump’ reverberating through the soil. He dropped
silently in place as a shadow loomed over him. Tensing, Dave watched as the man
stopped and half-turned away from the trail. Lit cigarette in his mouth, the man unzipped
his fly and took care of his business no more than five feet away from Dave. He took a
few puffs of his smoke, and flicked the butt out into the woods. ‘Dumbass’ thought Dave.
Such a careless act could set the whole wood on fire. A voice called out, and the man
answered in a guttural tongue that Dave thought was German. ‘Son of a (you know
what)’ Dave said to himself. The man finished and turned to go. Dave was up faster than
he realized, bringing the Belgian designed rifle up over his shoulder and before the
German’s brain registered a noise behind him, Dave smashed the buttstock down on the
man’s head, where it met the spine. The man dropped like a rock. Dave brought the rifle
down again, on his temple. Then he whipped out his Spyderco and stabbed downward
using an ice pick grip, and plunged the blade up to its hilt into the mans temple.
Breathing deeply, Dave looked down. The man was clearly dead, his head slightly
misshapen in the dim light.
He turned as a voice called form the road. “Uder? Uder?” Dave heard a man walking
towards him. The man called out with words Dave didn’t understand-Hogans Heroes
German was all he knew-and kept coming, pausing to light a cigarette of his own. “Uder,
was is los? Dumpkof.” Finally something Dave understood. Dave shifted right, screened
by a small tree, hopefully enough to break up his dim outline. That, coupled with the fact
that the man just held a flaming lighter inches from his eye, gave Dave what he hoped
was an edge. The man tripped over the unfortunate Uder in short order. Regaining his
footing, the man kicked him, laughing. Another blast of unintelligible words, except
Dave heard “arshlock’, and knew what that meant. The soldier bent over his supine
companion, “Uder?” he bent lower and Dave played smash the German, round two. This
time he pounded the guy’s head a few extra times, as his Spyderco was still embedded in
Uders thick Bavarian skull. Dave stepped over them and took a knee, watching the white
light. He saw no shadows, heard no noises. Dropping prone, he started crawling and
stopping, crawling and stopping, listening for someone else. He finally made the road.
Parked before him with its headlights on was what Dave thought by its shape was a
German Jeep like he saw on the highway. Sleeping in the front with his boots on the dash
was another soldier, wrapped in a parka. Dave stepped towards him. The man stirred at
Dave’s steps on the road, and spoke without opening his eyes “Uder,” he began, and then
spoke a string of words Dave didn’t catch. Dave looked around, and saw an open tool kit
next to a flat tire. Conveniently there was a large hammer lying on the ground next to it.
Dave picked it up, a wrench clinking to the ground. “Uder, blah blah blah,” spoke the
man. Dave walked up to him. “It’s not Uder, its Dave,” said McGrath, and swung the
hammer.
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Dave cleaned up the scene a bit, and turned off the trucks lights. He radioed Tony and
asked him to come up the path with Daves ruck, if he could do it. Dave would meet him
on the path.
Dave took his pack from a puffing Tony, thanking him. He took him aside and said, “I
got us a truck.”
“How?” asked an awed Tony.
“The previous users no longer need it.”
A pause. “OK, what are we going to do?”
Dave smiled in the dark, “Road trip.”
Dave led the family back up the trail, encouraging them with the thought of a ride. Dave
had stripped the men’s bodies of everything. They had three G-36’s, 22 magazines for
them, and an MG-3 mounted on top of the truck with 600 rounds. Dave would play with
their radios later, there were several in the vehicle. Tony repacked and stowed the tools in
the back, and then he and Rhonda rounded up the kids.
Dave was consulting some captured maps under the light of the firefly. “I think we can
make it a few miles tonight. This road here, “ he said, pointing to a spot on the map, “was
never paved. It’s used as a bike path, and it doesn’t pass to closely to any roads. We can
take it to here, where it ends in a park. We can ditch it there and keep walking, it will put
us ten miles ahead of where we would be otherwise.”
Tony spoke up, “I thought the roads were dangerous?”
“They are,” answered Dave.
“Then aren’t we better off walking?”
“No, for several reasons. One is that at out present rate we’ll be out of food before we get
there. The other is that the kids are exhausted, and we can cover ground more quickly and
hopefully cut a day of travel and cross the river without much trouble. Also, one of the
guys here had this map, which showed checkpoints. The next one is a mile from where
we are going, but further on. If we meet any other vehicles we’ll just wave and keep
going. That’s why we’re going to wear their jackets.”
“OK, that’s reasonable. I hope you’re right.”
‘So do I’ thought Dave.
Dave tuned the German radio, and found that the second one he tried would broadcast on
his groups emergency freq. He keyed the mike “CQ, CQ, CQ, this is 2NS1, 2NS1, calling
4P3A, 4P3A, come in, over.”
Dave waited a moment to hear the reply. "2NS1 this is 4P3A, read you 7 by 4, go ahead,
over.”
“Every things OK, 4 of Spades, 7 of Clubs, and Foxes in the Henhouse. Over.”
“Copy you 4 of Spades, 7 of Clubs, foxes, Over.”
“2NS1, out.”
He changed the frequency on the German radio and sat back. The first number set was his
ETA, the second let the group know he had 6 people with him. Clubs for extra personnel
(they were hoping for his in laws to be with him), foxes of course were occupying troops.
He had kept the transmissions short and to the point for safety reasons. If the military
could “DF”, or direction find, him, based on his transmission, they could dispatch troops
after him. Dave didn’t know if they were to that point yet, but he wasn’t going to chance
it. Since he would soon be several miles from here, he chanced the contact.
Dave hid Rhonda, the kids, and their packs under the German gear. The three Germans
had been carrying mermite cans of hot food, probably to the next checkpoint. Dave
decided they’d eat later. Driving with lights on made Dave feel especially vulnerable, but
he knew that he would be more suspicious driving without lights or under blackout lights
would create suspicion. He made the turnoff he wanted in less than ten minutes, and was
soon stopped in front of a locked gate. Leaving the vehicle running, he got out and
examined the gate. Steel tubes, square in profile, a heavy chain, and a Master Lock. Dave
went back to the rear of the vehicle, where Tony was both speaking to his kids and
watching their backs.
“Tony, can you look at the gate and tell me if you think we can open it?”
“Sure,” Tony answered. He kissed his wife and went around to the front.
“How are you guys doing?” inquired Dave.
“OK, I guess,” said Rhonda, “The kids are a little cold, but this beats walking.”
“It sure does. If they need to go let them, but don’t wander off, all right?”
“Sure Dave, sure.” Dave heard a creaking, and turned to look up front. There was no gate
blocking their path. He met Tony at the front. “That was quick,” Dave said, “how’d it
go?”
Tony laughed, “There was a key under a fake rock at the bottom of the gate post.”
Dave laughed, “I’ll pull through, lock it behind us. Keep the key.”
They drove as far as they could using only the blackout lights. The only iffy part was
crossing an old railroad trestle that spanned a steep banked river-Dave had been dreading
having to ford it. The truck barely fit, and he had Tony guide him while Rhonda and the
kids crossed on foot. Once over the bridge they loaded back up and drove to a small park.
From the park the path continued, eventually reaching the terminus where several trails
branched out, some going in loops, one a fitness trail, and several connected to longer
trails, including two that went to New Hampshire. One of these routes is what Dave had
intended to take. He had hiked both ways previously, but this trail was a little more off of
the beaten path, and had several side trails that led to scenic vistas, ponds, and a small
waterfall. He felt that the side trails would offer escape and evasion routes and better
opportunities to find secure campsites. It also had more water sources.
The park where they left the truck, though, was about a mile south of this. From this area,
too, several trails broke off, including one that went Northwest to Western Massachusetts
and then Vermont.
They went over the vehicle as best they could. Dave disabled the radios, he would have to
skip going over them and settle for wrecking them. While suggesting to Rhonda and
Tony that they feed the kids from the mermites, Dave drained the oil from the engine into
one of the mermite cans lids. He did this by pounding his knife through the oil pan and
making a hole. From the deceased Germans backpack he secured two heavy flectarn
ponchos. Using the shovel from the trucks tool kit, he had Tony help him dig a hole in the
woods. He wrapped the MG-3 and one G-36 in a poncho, after covering them with motor
oil. He then wrapped the other poncho over that package, and buried them with the ammo.
He camo’ed the hole as best he could under the circumstances. Salvaging what they could
from the truck, they refilled all of their water bottles from two cans carried with the food,
and added the few US made MRE’s in the truck to their packs. From the packs they also
salvaged a Flectarn poncho, some esbit tablets and a stove for Tony, some para cord,
toilet paper, a couple of butane lighters, a pocket knife, a compass and fixed bladed knife
for Tony, and the two other G-36’s and 14 magazines for Tony and Rhonda. Dave
discussed switching their rifles out with those of the Germans, and finally convinced
them that they were better off with the H&K rifles. Dave suggested giving Jake the SKS
to carry and Julia, the older girl, the 10/22. Julia was reluctant to carry the gun, stating
very loudly to her Mother, “It’s heavy and I hate shooting and I don’t want to do it.”
As Dave was nearby, he leaned over and said, quietly, “Julia, we really need you to do
this and to help out your folks.”
Julia immediately clammed up and nodded her assent, taking the rifle from her mother
and hurrying away from Dave.
“You sure have a way with the kids, Dave,” said Rhonda, “What did you say to them?”
“I don’t know, Rhonda, I’ve never really talked to them outside of yours or Tony’s
prescence. If I find out, though, I’m using it on my kids.” They both chuckled quietly
together.
They carried the German rucks away from the truck and buried them, too, more to deny
their recovery by the U.N. troops than for a real hope of saving them before the ravages
of weather destroyed them. Some pieces of gear they used, stuffing them into their packs
for later. Ammo pouches, canteens, a first aid kit, two G-36 cleaning kits. A couple of
smoke grenades and six fragmentation grenades. Tony quickly poured a few handfuls of
sand from a nearby sandbox into the fuel tank of the truck, and they set out up the path.
Moving with purpose, they made good time. It took Dave a few minutes searching in the
dark to find the right trail, but they were soon on their way. The going got steep in several
places, with Dave and the couple helping the children up the more difficult points. They
managed about three miles, turning roughly West down a side trail that led to a clear
pond, which was another four miles or so. Dave knew of another trail that branched from
the one they were on, that led to an old farm site. Nothing remained but a few apple trees
and a foundation, and the path to it was nearly grown over. That’s where Dave planned
on laagering. As they moved dawn approached. First the air got still, and slowly they
began to see more of their surroundings, in grey and blacks. Slowly they could
distinguish colors, and the birds started their song again. Stopping for a breather for the
kids, Dave ensured them that they were a half-hour or so away from a day’s rest. Rucking
up again, they set off, Dave concerned because of the ever rising sun.
Within 25 minutes they had reached the area Dave had in mind. He dropped his ruck and
asked Tony to once again watch their back trail. He did a quick recon of the area, and
found a dry spot between a stand of Rhododendrons and a copse of small pine trees. He
moved the family into the small area with a noted sense of urgency. He didn’t like to be
exposed in the daylight like he was.
After setting up shelter with the now three ponchos, Dave ate some of the German food
that Rhonda had thoughtfully saved for him in her enamel cook pot.
“I saw you didn’t eat, Dave, and thought you’d like some.”
Dave agreed that he would, and thanked her sincerely. He was famished. While Dave ate
hungrily, he watched the family lay out their sleeping pads and bags. The girls went into
the pines for a few minutes, and came back dressed in dry sweats. The men changed
while the girls were gone. “Dave,” said Rhonda when she came back, “I know why the
kids have been so good.”
Dave looked at her quizzically. “When you told them about the Indians scalping us if
they caught us, somehow they heard that YOU would scalp them. They’ve been afraid to
get you upset ever since.”
Dave looked at her confused, “I’d never hurt them…” he began. “I know you wouldn’t,”
said Rhonda, smiling, “but this is the best they’ve ever acted. Let’s not tell them until
tomorrow, all right?”
Dave nodded his assent, yawning, “Sure. Let’s look at your rifles and I’ll tell you how
they work. Then I’m going to sleep. We can make a guard roster and rotate, but I’m
going to drop if I don’t crash right away.”
Rhonda and Tony sat with Dave and he went over their new rifles. One was a G-36K, the
short barreled model. Dave hadn’t noticed last night in the dark. He made sure that Rhoda
was assigned the “K”, as it was marginally lighter and more compact with the stock
folded. He showed them the dual-purpose sights, and went over loading, reloading, and
sighting. He emphasized that they should never use the full auto feature, as it would drain
their limited ammo supply and endanger their kids. They worked out a guard schedule in
which Dave would be awakened at 11:45 for his daily radio contact. And then, Dave slept,
his dreams haunting him with the sounds of Uders skull breaking, the hammer blows, and
the smell of burnt flesh from his in-laws house.
Dawn broke. Dave took this as a good sign. With the dawn came a southerly wind, which
quickly went about clearing the clouds. Dave felt a chill in the air, and was concerned
that the Indian Summer was done with the whole business, and ready for a little break.
He rose and stretched, his back cracking and legs groaning. ‘What the hell am I doing
here?’ Dave thought. ‘This sucks.’ He smiled. Remembering cold wet days in the Army,
he changed his attitude. ‘This doesn’t suck enough!’ He smiled. ‘Hooah, and all that.
Well, day, I am here and I’m gonna kick yer butt.’ With a feeling of defiance towards the
fate that had brought him to this point, Dave set about his work.
The family was still sleeping under the crudely camouflaged tarp. Working silently as he
could, Dave improved the camou job, trying not to overdo it and cause the whole thing to
collapse under its own weight. He then changed into his dry pants and shirt. Laying his
wet things in a sunny spot, he drank some water and ate an MRE cake for breakfast. After
brushing his teeth, he decided he needed to shave, and he did. Feeling refreshed, Dave
carefully reapplied his camo cream and made his morning toilet in a far corner of the
clearing, behind two of the great pine trunks. He then took out his cleaning kit and
cleaned the Makarov, and then the strangers SKS. Dave idly noted as he cleaned that it
was a 1954 stamped Russian SKS. The chromed blade bayonet, in addition to carrying a
wicked edge, was spray painted black. Dave decided Tony at least had some sense. It was
also equipped with a 30 round magazine that Dave found slow to remove and insert. He
cleaned Tony’s ammo, drying it, and reloaded the weapon. He then cleaned the FAL
thoroughly, and unloaded all of his magazines, cleaned them, and reloaded them, one at a
time. He double checked the contents of his pack, making sure his radios and spare ammo
were still dry. He then changed into a dry pair of socks and liners, powdering his feet and
airing out his boots.
Dave checked the path he had cut in the dark, and decided it was OK for now. Refilling
his canteen from the soda bottle he had filled with the rescued spring water, Dave drank a
little more. He carefully and delibarately removed the waist belt from the pack, and
buckled it about his waist. He consulted his topo map, and using the blade of his
Leatherman cut out the two mapsheets that covered where he estimated they were. He
used a red alcohol marker to write “I will be back by 8 A.M., McGrath”, he propped the
open book up on Rhondas pack. He left the clearing by his own path, taking time to cover
his backtrail carefully. He halted at the edge, and listened for a bit. He shook his head to
wake himself. Last night had been long, cold, wet, and difficult. It was all he could do not
to fall alseep.
He circled the camp at about 150 meters out, identifying terrain and locating their spot on
the map. He found a small stream that lazed through the wood. As it wasn’t on the map
he figured that it was seasonal. He hoped it would remain flowing until he could return
with his water bladder. The terrain was typical eastern woodland-hardwoods and
pinetrees. The undergrowth was prolific, but still navigable. Dave sat under a low Oak for
while, listening for any indication of human prescence and pouring over his maps. Their
route would now take them through areas of widely diverse population centers. Small
towns, rural areas, a few larger cities. Roads crisscrossed the area, which had been settled
for over 350 years. Dave plotted a rough route in his head, along with two viable
alternatives. He noted obvious danger areas, water and road obstacles, and areas such as
state and town forests where he thought they could hole up if needed. Deciding on his
route for that night, he considered how much the family would hinder his journey home.
He considered and discarded leaving them. He felt responsible for their safety,
particularly since they had children. If anything happened to them Dave felt it would be
his fault, and he didn’t want to bear such a burden on his soul. He then took a moment to
consider his mortality, and got to his knees and prayed. He prayed for his family, he
prayed for his new wards, and he somewhat embarassingly prayed for himself, for
guidance, safety, and for the wisdom not to get the four kids and their parents killed.
Silently mouthing the Lord’s Prayer, Dave felt a peace wash over his insides. He hoped it
was the Holy Spirit responding to his plea. He was going to need all of the help he could
get.
Returning to what Dave thought of as a “Patrol Base”, Dave circled the copse again,
smelling wood smoke. He struggled to maintain his happy state as he gently wriggled and
crawled back into the pine glen, covering his route as he went. He turned to see Tony
sheepishly dropping his rifle from his prone position behind Dave’s pack. “It’s all right,”
Tony called out, far too loudly for Daves likings, “It’s Mr. McGrath.”
Tony stood up as his wife, with a 10/22, and his four kids came from behind the trees
where Dave had made his latrine that morning.
“Sorry to startle you,” said Dave, smiling at them. The look on their faces was one of
relief and fear just passed, “but I wanted to check out our AO and see what we were in.”
“I figured it was like that,” answered Tony, “but we had to be sure when we heard that
noise in the bushes.”
”That’s OK, you did the right thing,” replied Dave, “you’ve got good instincts. We do
need to make up a way….” Dave’s voice drifted off. “First things first, though. Come
here.” It was basically an order, and Tony followed. “You to, Rhonda.” Dave said,
pointing.
“What?” she asked, real concern in her voice. Dave walked over to where a fire burned.
Taking the small orange trowel from next to the freshly dug pit, Dave began smothering
the fire.
“What are you doing?” Asked Rhonda, “We was gonna cook breakfast and dry the kids
shoes and stuff.”
“They can smell this a half mile away, on a good wind. No fires, got it?” Anger was in
his voice.
“Yeah, I guess,” said Tony, “But why are you so pissed? It’s just a fire.”
“You could get us all killed with a fire. And quit talking so loud, cripes. They can hear
you in Springfield.” Dave finished his work. The entire family stood near, looking at
Dave as if we could snap at any moment. Dave stood, readjusting his chest pouch and
unbuckling his belt. “I’m sorry if I’m a hard…”his voice trailed, looking at the children,
“I’m sorry if I’m short, but this stuff is dangerous. You are not on a camping trip in the
Poconoes. You are a fugitive in a war zone. You need to start thinking like that, or you
won’t make it.”
“Well, we don’t know all this stuff. Heck, we’re just trying to get by. If you want us to do
this stuff, tell us. You don’t have to go yelling at Rhonda and scaring the kids, Mr.
McGrath. We want your help-heck, we’d still be out in the rain if it weren’t for you. But
don’t go off half cocked.” Tony was finished, his arms folded defensively.
Dave looked at him, hard. “Put the kids stuff in the sunny spots to dry. If you have dry
clothes for them, put them on. From now on, no loud voices.” He looked at the four kids.
“Especially you guys. Understand?” They all nodded, the two oldest looking a little
defiant. “Look,” began Dave, taking his rifle off of his neck and standing it on it’s butt,
holding the muzzle with his left hand, “I spent a long time in the Infantry. I can get you
through this. But if you start making noise and can’t control your kids, I’m outta here.
I’m willing to help you, but you need to put out 110%, understand?” The six heads
nodded. “You are no longer living in America, you’re in the wilderness being hunted by
blood thirsty Indians, and if you screw up, you’ll get scalped, OK?” More nodding. “Well
alrighty then,” said Dave.
Turning his attention to the parents, he said “Have you eaten?” They nodded. “Then
repack your bags as best you can. Take down the tarp. We’re going to leave at sunset,
you have all day to sleep, clean up, and rest. How are you set for water?”
Tony said, “We’re almost out.”
“OK, we can cure that, anybody hurt?”
Rhonda spoke this time, “No, just a few blisters.”
“We can do blisters, too. No worries there. I want use use the space behind those pine
trees,” he pointed, “as our latrine. We bury all waste, every time, right?”
“I’m going to get some sleep. Rhonda, try to keep the kids as busy as you can. Have a
watch?” Tony and Rhonda both nodded.
“I have a quarter til.” They both nodded their assent, “please wake me at 11:30, OK?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Rhonda.
Dave walked to his pack, the couple following. Dave took out his water bladder, which
was empty, and his mostly empty 2 liter bottle. “I’m going to show Tony where the
stream is. Get all of your water bottles.”
“Is the stream safe?” asked Rhonda, “I don’t want my kids getting sick and crapping all
over themselves.”
“Don’t worry,” said Dave, who didn’t need that kind of fun either, “I have a filter.”
Tony and Dave walked to the stream together, as silently as they could. Dave looked at
Tony. He was pretty good at moving in the forest. “You a hunter, Tony?”
“Yeah, black powder and some archery. Why?”
“You move like a hunter.”
After filling their bottles, Tony and Dave went back to the camp. Dave asked Tony to
lead the way, and he did, going directly back to the small opening. Dave said to Tony
“You go first so Rhonda doesn’t shoot me.”
Tony whispered “OK. I wish our radioes worked.” Dave grabbed him to stop him from
crawling, and asked in a hushed tone “WHAT radios?”
“Oh, Rhonda and me got those family radios. The oldest kids, too. But the batteries are
dead. We had them off of the charger ‘cause the power was off and on.”
Dave looked at him. “Let me see them when we get back to camp.”
“Yeah, sure, what’s the big deal?” and off he crawled, his SKS dragging in the dirt like a
short dogs long tail.
Dave examined the radios. Family Radio Service, or FRS, handhelds, small, but with
rechargeable batteries. Dave asked and was told “We kept them on chargers at home, but
with the bad power we unplugged them. I hoped they’d work, but the batteries are down.
We was hopin’ to get batteries somewheres.”
Dave grinned, removed the solar charger from his pack, and told him “Keep these in the
sun today and we’ll try to get the talkies up for tonight.”
“Great,” replied Tony, “this is sweet, and by sweet I mean totally cool.”
Dave gave further instructions to the couple, and suggested that they try to get the kids to
rest as it would be another long night. He asked Tony and Rhonda about the kids clothes,
and found that they had enough warm stuff to meet Dave’s approval. Knit hats, sweats,
fleece jackets. Rhonda was concerned that they didn’t have gloves.
“Do they have extra socks?” asked Dave.
“Yeah, sure,” she answered with a curious look on her face.
“Then they can wear them as mittens,” said Dave.
Rhonda blinked three times, delibarately. “How do you think of this stuff?” she asked.
Dave slept for most of the rest of the day. He was awoken promptly at 11:30, and set up
his radio, taking the time to deploy his expedient antenna, since he had the place and
luxury of doing so. At exactly noon he heard the voice of his friend Scott come over the
earpiece. “Freeland news had learned that the government is once again trying to smear
the name of a great American and Patriot. Dave McGrath of Connecticut was framed for
the murder of his in-laws and three Federal Stormtroopers. Witnesses to the scene,
however, report that a police raid started before dawn. A neighbor, Mrs. Eleanor
Buttinski,” Dave smiled wryly. That’s what Sandy and her folks called Mrs. Robidas
across the street, “reported that Mr. Peterson greeted the raiders at the door, a “big gun”
in one hand and a copy of the Constitution in the other. He got two at the door and fired
at the police for several hours, killing at least five, Mrs. Buttinski reports, and wounding
a lot more. Mr. McGrath’s wife was interviewed at their home in New Hampshire and
had this to say ‘My husband is at work right now, but I can tell you there’s no way he
would have harmed a hair on my parents heads if he was even down there. He’s a good,
loving man, and I know he loved my parents as his own. I’ll tell him so when he comes
back tonight.’” Scotts phony announcer voice continued, “So there it is, people. There are
German troops setting up roadblocks on all the main roads and backroads of the New
Hampshire border. Yes, Germans. This isn’t a half baked conspiracy theory. Already
elements of the New Hampshire State Guard have engaged them at least twice in
firefights as they pursued people across the border. 7-3-7-23-54-7-82-543-23-66-09.”
Dave struggled to write down the numbers.
“Now for a little musical entertainment.” Metallicas “Seek and Destroy” came on the air.
Dave shut it off. War was coming, and he didn’t want to hear that song again.
Using a card concealed in the battery compartment, Dave deciphered the message. “use
the trails” it said. “The trails”. Dave considered it. He was given direct info that the UN
troops were covering the roads. They must be road bound by mentality, Dave figured.
They’d use the trails. Dave took down his antenna, watched by the curious family.
Rhonda asked, “What was that all about, Mr. McGrath?” Dave turned. “My name is
Dave,” he said simply. “OK, Dave. What was that all about?”
“My friends and I have a commo network. I can reach them at any time on our frequency.
They broadcast to me every day at noon, because I move at night. It seems I was named
as a suspect in a terrorist act in Connecticut, and they let me know, in code, that they
knew it wasn’t me. They let me know that things are OK back home. Just now they
broadcast a special code to me, that I had to decipeher. They told me, in so many words,
that the UN goons have the roads covered, but that we should be OK on the trails. I know
a few trails that are off of the beaten path that lead us right into southern New Hampshire,
where we will be safe.”
“I see,” said Sandy, “Mr. Mc..I mean Dave, are you a survivalist?”
Dave couldn’t help but smile, “Just a survivor, Rhonda, like you.”
Dave was still tired, so he went back to sleep. Waking a few hours later, he repacked his
ruck, and checked on the batteries in the charger. Julia was watching it, and moving it
every so often to follow the dappled sunlight.
“My Mom said this was real important to do, but it’s really boring,” said the girl, keeping
her voice low.
“It is important, Julia,” answered Dave, “sometimes it’s like that. Why don’t you ask
your Mom or Dad for two radios, would you?”
Julia jumped up and scampered off. Dave repacked the charger, and got the charged set
of batteries from his pack. Tony came over with all four radios. “Lets try two out, Tony,”
said Dave, “By the way, my name is Dave.”
Tony nodded, “Rhonda told me. It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you. Lets load these puppies up and see what we’ve got.”
The radios worked fine. They settled on a frequency, and Dave explained that they would
change to that frequency plus three if there was interference or if they used the radio to
talk. Dave didn’t want to get DF’d. Turning off both of them, Dave placed one near his
pack. “Tony?”
“Yeah, Dave?”
“Let’s not use the call button that makes the loud beep, OK?”
“Yeah, sure Dave,” said Tony as he walked away.
Dave held a meeting shortly before dusk.
“I wanted to go over what’s going on. My friends have told me that the only way is on
trails, which is what I was going to do anyway. I know of four trails that we can reach in
one to two days, we’re trying to get to the closest for now. The kids need to move
between you guys. I’m not going to carry Cindy Lou Hoo tonight, I need to be on point
and it’s not the safest place for her. Have Jake help with her. Jake?” Jake nodded. “You
need to be a man now, and if anything happens to your folks and me take the kids back
the way we came. Tommorrow we should have batteries for your radio, so we can talk to
you, but for tonight, follow the backtrail for as far as you can go, then wait. One of us
will come for you. If we can’t, wait there a day, and walk to the east, where the sun
comes up. There’s houses and a town about two miles over that way. Follow the road
south, towards the sun. It’s the best I can do if that happens. It’s going to be cold tonight,
but remember it will be warm moving, so start out a little chilly, but keep your jackets in
the tops of your packs, OK?” the kids all nodded. “Rhonda, you in the middle, behind the
kids. Tony, you’re tail end charlie. Watch the rear, watch for straggling kids, and
remember, I have a radio, so we can talk. If I make contact…” he looked at their blank
faces, “ If I get shot at, high tail it past your Dad and go the way we came for 5 minutes.
Tony, you let them through, give me a minute, and then follow them. When you hook up,
go right for 500 yards and wait an hour for me. We’ll try to use the radios, but if you
think it’s me, make an animal noise.”
“What kind?” asked Tony.
“I don’t care. A zebra, an giraffe, an owl…”
Cindy laughed. “Giraffes don’t make a sound, Mister McGwath. They told us in school.”
“Really?” asked Dave, “the only thing I know about them is why their necks are so long.”
“Why are their necks so long,” asked the child.
Dave winked. “Cause their feet stink.”
The family laughed. “You’re silly, Mister McGwath,” the little girl said.
“Well, what animal?” Dave asked, returning to topic.
“I can quack like a duck,” said Jake.
“Fine. I hear you quack- I’ll ‘moo’ like a cow. Don’t shoot me, Tony.”
“I’ll try not to,” said a grinning Tony.
“Equipment check in ten,” said Dave.
“What’s that mean?” asked Julia.
“It means pack your stuff and get ready, ding-a-ling,” answered Jake.
“Well, I don’t talk Army,” was Julia’s retort.
Before they left, Dave repacked everything in his pack. He then spoke to Rhonda, who
brought over the family cookware. Discussing the kids palates, Dave and Rhonda decided
on a large can of SpaghettiO’s, to which Dave added a spaghetti MRE. Using two esbit
tablets, Dave lit them in a small hole he had dug with his hands. The medium sized
enamel pan Rhonda carried was just about full, and after what seemed like a long wait,
finally started bubbling over. Seeing that the others were fed, Dave took the remaining
food and ate it from his canteen cup. After eating, they cleaned their plates and repacked.
The kids put on their bags, Rhonda shrugged under the weight of her pack, and Tony
gave Dave a thumbs up from the rear.
Feeling warm and satisfied, Dave led them from their secluded forest getaway and into
the perils of the night.
Chapter 12
Dave led the family north. They trekked for an hour when Dave finally called a halt. He
wanted to give the kids time to rest and drink. He asked Rhonda to check their feet, and
make sure they drank some filtered water. After 15 minutes he headed out again.
Movement was slow, as moving in the dark in the woods usually is. The clear, crisp night
sky provided a little light, but it was not bright. Eventually Dave cut across a trail that
was not on his map. It ran in a roughly northerly direction. Dave looked up and down the
trail, then took a knee. Listening for a few minutes, he heard Rhonda and the kids
struggling through the grasping branches of the wood. Dave smiled for an instant. The
kids were doing really well. It was rough going for a kid in terrain like this in the dark,
and they weren’t complaining one bit. As they stepped onto the trail, Dave hissed to them
“Over here.” They walked a few paces to him, and Dave said, “Take a seat.” They sat
without a sound.
Rhonda came over, and took off her pack. Dave, too, dropped his pack. Leaning close to
Rhonda, Dave whispered, “I’m going to scout the trail. Keep the kids warm and have
Tony cover the back door.” “OK,” whispered back Rhonda.
Dave, unburdened by his pack, started up the trail. He felt a chill as the damp on his back,
from where the pack touched him, was cooled by the night air. Shivering for a second, he
followed the trail slowly for ten minutes, stopping twice to listen for unusual and out of
place sounds. Deciding he had gone far enough, Dave stepped behind a tree that was on a
corner of the trail. He could keep his trail to his immediate rear and look down towards
unexplored territory. He stood for a few minutes, the only sounds merely winds in the
trees and dead but unfallen leaves rustling from their branches. He removed his hat and
cupped his ear, as before. Listening intently, he was about to return to the family when he
heard something that caught his attention. He strained with all his being to make it out,
but the sound eluded him. Replacing his hat, Dave stepped back onto the track and
cautiously moved forward another 50 feet, and again removed his boonie and cupped his
hand. ‘Clink’. Definitely something unnatural. An e-tool on rock? Maybe. He listened for
a moment, and the noise repeated itself. Dave moved up another 30 feet and repeated the
action. More noises, another muffled ‘clink’. Definitely something. Dave felt he needed
to know what was going on. Was it a picket line being set up? Minefield? Were they
stringing wire to channel refugees? Road block? Dave knew there was a road ahead.
What was going on? He had to find out.
Crouching and duck walking, Dave made his way forward. Soon he saw white light
through the trees ahead, and heard the voices more clearly. A loud ‘clunk’ and a laugh,
then a loud voice that said something indecipherable. Dave crept closer still. He
considered his options, and decided to keep going. Creeping forward on his knees and
one hand, he kept his rifle ready. Dave felt the footsteps before he heard them, his left
hand on the ground feeling the ‘thump’ reverberating through the soil. He dropped
silently in place as a shadow loomed over him. Tensing, Dave watched as the man
stopped and half-turned away from the trail. Lit cigarette in his mouth, the man unzipped
his fly and took care of his business no more than five feet away from Dave. He took a
few puffs of his smoke, and flicked the butt out into the woods. ‘Dumbass’ thought Dave.
Such a careless act could set the whole wood on fire. A voice called out, and the man
answered in a guttural tongue that Dave thought was German. ‘Son of a (you know
what)’ Dave said to himself. The man finished and turned to go. Dave was up faster than
he realized, bringing the Belgian designed rifle up over his shoulder and before the
German’s brain registered a noise behind him, Dave smashed the buttstock down on the
man’s head, where it met the spine. The man dropped like a rock. Dave brought the rifle
down again, on his temple. Then he whipped out his Spyderco and stabbed downward
using an ice pick grip, and plunged the blade up to its hilt into the mans temple.
Breathing deeply, Dave looked down. The man was clearly dead, his head slightly
misshapen in the dim light.
He turned as a voice called form the road. “Uder? Uder?” Dave heard a man walking
towards him. The man called out with words Dave didn’t understand-Hogans Heroes
German was all he knew-and kept coming, pausing to light a cigarette of his own. “Uder,
was is los? Dumpkof.” Finally something Dave understood. Dave shifted right, screened
by a small tree, hopefully enough to break up his dim outline. That, coupled with the fact
that the man just held a flaming lighter inches from his eye, gave Dave what he hoped
was an edge. The man tripped over the unfortunate Uder in short order. Regaining his
footing, the man kicked him, laughing. Another blast of unintelligible words, except
Dave heard “arshlock’, and knew what that meant. The soldier bent over his supine
companion, “Uder?” he bent lower and Dave played smash the German, round two. This
time he pounded the guy’s head a few extra times, as his Spyderco was still embedded in
Uders thick Bavarian skull. Dave stepped over them and took a knee, watching the white
light. He saw no shadows, heard no noises. Dropping prone, he started crawling and
stopping, crawling and stopping, listening for someone else. He finally made the road.
Parked before him with its headlights on was what Dave thought by its shape was a
German Jeep like he saw on the highway. Sleeping in the front with his boots on the dash
was another soldier, wrapped in a parka. Dave stepped towards him. The man stirred at
Dave’s steps on the road, and spoke without opening his eyes “Uder,” he began, and then
spoke a string of words Dave didn’t catch. Dave looked around, and saw an open tool kit
next to a flat tire. Conveniently there was a large hammer lying on the ground next to it.
Dave picked it up, a wrench clinking to the ground. “Uder, blah blah blah,” spoke the
man. Dave walked up to him. “It’s not Uder, its Dave,” said McGrath, and swung the
hammer.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dave cleaned up the scene a bit, and turned off the trucks lights. He radioed Tony and
asked him to come up the path with Daves ruck, if he could do it. Dave would meet him
on the path.
Dave took his pack from a puffing Tony, thanking him. He took him aside and said, “I
got us a truck.”
“How?” asked an awed Tony.
“The previous users no longer need it.”
A pause. “OK, what are we going to do?”
Dave smiled in the dark, “Road trip.”
Dave led the family back up the trail, encouraging them with the thought of a ride. Dave
had stripped the men’s bodies of everything. They had three G-36’s, 22 magazines for
them, and an MG-3 mounted on top of the truck with 600 rounds. Dave would play with
their radios later, there were several in the vehicle. Tony repacked and stowed the tools in
the back, and then he and Rhonda rounded up the kids.
Dave was consulting some captured maps under the light of the firefly. “I think we can
make it a few miles tonight. This road here, “ he said, pointing to a spot on the map, “was
never paved. It’s used as a bike path, and it doesn’t pass to closely to any roads. We can
take it to here, where it ends in a park. We can ditch it there and keep walking, it will put
us ten miles ahead of where we would be otherwise.”
Tony spoke up, “I thought the roads were dangerous?”
“They are,” answered Dave.
“Then aren’t we better off walking?”
“No, for several reasons. One is that at out present rate we’ll be out of food before we get
there. The other is that the kids are exhausted, and we can cover ground more quickly and
hopefully cut a day of travel and cross the river without much trouble. Also, one of the
guys here had this map, which showed checkpoints. The next one is a mile from where
we are going, but further on. If we meet any other vehicles we’ll just wave and keep
going. That’s why we’re going to wear their jackets.”
“OK, that’s reasonable. I hope you’re right.”
‘So do I’ thought Dave.
Dave tuned the German radio, and found that the second one he tried would broadcast on
his groups emergency freq. He keyed the mike “CQ, CQ, CQ, this is 2NS1, 2NS1, calling
4P3A, 4P3A, come in, over.”
Dave waited a moment to hear the reply. "2NS1 this is 4P3A, read you 7 by 4, go ahead,
over.”
“Every things OK, 4 of Spades, 7 of Clubs, and Foxes in the Henhouse. Over.”
“Copy you 4 of Spades, 7 of Clubs, foxes, Over.”
“2NS1, out.”
He changed the frequency on the German radio and sat back. The first number set was his
ETA, the second let the group know he had 6 people with him. Clubs for extra personnel
(they were hoping for his in laws to be with him), foxes of course were occupying troops.
He had kept the transmissions short and to the point for safety reasons. If the military
could “DF”, or direction find, him, based on his transmission, they could dispatch troops
after him. Dave didn’t know if they were to that point yet, but he wasn’t going to chance
it. Since he would soon be several miles from here, he chanced the contact.
Dave hid Rhonda, the kids, and their packs under the German gear. The three Germans
had been carrying mermite cans of hot food, probably to the next checkpoint. Dave
decided they’d eat later. Driving with lights on made Dave feel especially vulnerable, but
he knew that he would be more suspicious driving without lights or under blackout lights
would create suspicion. He made the turnoff he wanted in less than ten minutes, and was
soon stopped in front of a locked gate. Leaving the vehicle running, he got out and
examined the gate. Steel tubes, square in profile, a heavy chain, and a Master Lock. Dave
went back to the rear of the vehicle, where Tony was both speaking to his kids and
watching their backs.
“Tony, can you look at the gate and tell me if you think we can open it?”
“Sure,” Tony answered. He kissed his wife and went around to the front.
“How are you guys doing?” inquired Dave.
“OK, I guess,” said Rhonda, “The kids are a little cold, but this beats walking.”
“It sure does. If they need to go let them, but don’t wander off, all right?”
“Sure Dave, sure.” Dave heard a creaking, and turned to look up front. There was no gate
blocking their path. He met Tony at the front. “That was quick,” Dave said, “how’d it
go?”
Tony laughed, “There was a key under a fake rock at the bottom of the gate post.”
Dave laughed, “I’ll pull through, lock it behind us. Keep the key.”
They drove as far as they could using only the blackout lights. The only iffy part was
crossing an old railroad trestle that spanned a steep banked river-Dave had been dreading
having to ford it. The truck barely fit, and he had Tony guide him while Rhonda and the
kids crossed on foot. Once over the bridge they loaded back up and drove to a small park.
From the park the path continued, eventually reaching the terminus where several trails
branched out, some going in loops, one a fitness trail, and several connected to longer
trails, including two that went to New Hampshire. One of these routes is what Dave had
intended to take. He had hiked both ways previously, but this trail was a little more off of
the beaten path, and had several side trails that led to scenic vistas, ponds, and a small
waterfall. He felt that the side trails would offer escape and evasion routes and better
opportunities to find secure campsites. It also had more water sources.
The park where they left the truck, though, was about a mile south of this. From this area,
too, several trails broke off, including one that went Northwest to Western Massachusetts
and then Vermont.
They went over the vehicle as best they could. Dave disabled the radios, he would have to
skip going over them and settle for wrecking them. While suggesting to Rhonda and
Tony that they feed the kids from the mermites, Dave drained the oil from the engine into
one of the mermite cans lids. He did this by pounding his knife through the oil pan and
making a hole. From the deceased Germans backpack he secured two heavy flectarn
ponchos. Using the shovel from the trucks tool kit, he had Tony help him dig a hole in the
woods. He wrapped the MG-3 and one G-36 in a poncho, after covering them with motor
oil. He then wrapped the other poncho over that package, and buried them with the ammo.
He camo’ed the hole as best he could under the circumstances. Salvaging what they could
from the truck, they refilled all of their water bottles from two cans carried with the food,
and added the few US made MRE’s in the truck to their packs. From the packs they also
salvaged a Flectarn poncho, some esbit tablets and a stove for Tony, some para cord,
toilet paper, a couple of butane lighters, a pocket knife, a compass and fixed bladed knife
for Tony, and the two other G-36’s and 14 magazines for Tony and Rhonda. Dave
discussed switching their rifles out with those of the Germans, and finally convinced
them that they were better off with the H&K rifles. Dave suggested giving Jake the SKS
to carry and Julia, the older girl, the 10/22. Julia was reluctant to carry the gun, stating
very loudly to her Mother, “It’s heavy and I hate shooting and I don’t want to do it.”
As Dave was nearby, he leaned over and said, quietly, “Julia, we really need you to do
this and to help out your folks.”
Julia immediately clammed up and nodded her assent, taking the rifle from her mother
and hurrying away from Dave.
“You sure have a way with the kids, Dave,” said Rhonda, “What did you say to them?”
“I don’t know, Rhonda, I’ve never really talked to them outside of yours or Tony’s
prescence. If I find out, though, I’m using it on my kids.” They both chuckled quietly
together.
They carried the German rucks away from the truck and buried them, too, more to deny
their recovery by the U.N. troops than for a real hope of saving them before the ravages
of weather destroyed them. Some pieces of gear they used, stuffing them into their packs
for later. Ammo pouches, canteens, a first aid kit, two G-36 cleaning kits. A couple of
smoke grenades and six fragmentation grenades. Tony quickly poured a few handfuls of
sand from a nearby sandbox into the fuel tank of the truck, and they set out up the path.
Moving with purpose, they made good time. It took Dave a few minutes searching in the
dark to find the right trail, but they were soon on their way. The going got steep in several
places, with Dave and the couple helping the children up the more difficult points. They
managed about three miles, turning roughly West down a side trail that led to a clear
pond, which was another four miles or so. Dave knew of another trail that branched from
the one they were on, that led to an old farm site. Nothing remained but a few apple trees
and a foundation, and the path to it was nearly grown over. That’s where Dave planned
on laagering. As they moved dawn approached. First the air got still, and slowly they
began to see more of their surroundings, in grey and blacks. Slowly they could
distinguish colors, and the birds started their song again. Stopping for a breather for the
kids, Dave ensured them that they were a half-hour or so away from a day’s rest. Rucking
up again, they set off, Dave concerned because of the ever rising sun.
Within 25 minutes they had reached the area Dave had in mind. He dropped his ruck and
asked Tony to once again watch their back trail. He did a quick recon of the area, and
found a dry spot between a stand of Rhododendrons and a copse of small pine trees. He
moved the family into the small area with a noted sense of urgency. He didn’t like to be
exposed in the daylight like he was.
After setting up shelter with the now three ponchos, Dave ate some of the German food
that Rhonda had thoughtfully saved for him in her enamel cook pot.
“I saw you didn’t eat, Dave, and thought you’d like some.”
Dave agreed that he would, and thanked her sincerely. He was famished. While Dave ate
hungrily, he watched the family lay out their sleeping pads and bags. The girls went into
the pines for a few minutes, and came back dressed in dry sweats. The men changed
while the girls were gone. “Dave,” said Rhonda when she came back, “I know why the
kids have been so good.”
Dave looked at her quizzically. “When you told them about the Indians scalping us if
they caught us, somehow they heard that YOU would scalp them. They’ve been afraid to
get you upset ever since.”
Dave looked at her confused, “I’d never hurt them…” he began. “I know you wouldn’t,”
said Rhonda, smiling, “but this is the best they’ve ever acted. Let’s not tell them until
tomorrow, all right?”
Dave nodded his assent, yawning, “Sure. Let’s look at your rifles and I’ll tell you how
they work. Then I’m going to sleep. We can make a guard roster and rotate, but I’m
going to drop if I don’t crash right away.”
Rhonda and Tony sat with Dave and he went over their new rifles. One was a G-36K, the
short barreled model. Dave hadn’t noticed last night in the dark. He made sure that Rhoda
was assigned the “K”, as it was marginally lighter and more compact with the stock
folded. He showed them the dual-purpose sights, and went over loading, reloading, and
sighting. He emphasized that they should never use the full auto feature, as it would drain
their limited ammo supply and endanger their kids. They worked out a guard schedule in
which Dave would be awakened at 11:45 for his daily radio contact. And then, Dave slept,
his dreams haunting him with the sounds of Uders skull breaking, the hammer blows, and
the smell of burnt flesh from his in-laws house.