Czechoslovakia, May 2, 1945
Barbara's parachute brought her down in a mountain forest. Much as she tried to maneuver away, the chute became entangled in the lower boughs of a tall pine. She hung there helplessly for what seemed like hours. Finally, she heard someone tramping through the trees and undergrowth. She hoped it was not a Nazi soldier who might have seen her descent.
After a few more moments of anxious waiting, a figure came out of the darkness under the forest canopy.
"Do you want to hang around here some more, or go look for that horse?"
Barbara sighed with relief when she first heard, then saw Stephen as he approached.
"Thank God!" she said. "I thought you might be a Jerry!"
Stephen cut the straps of her parachute harness and helped her down.
"I saw a patrol not far from here after I landed. We need to bury your chute, then get out of here."
They buried Barbara's parachute under some leaves and followed Stephen's compass, walking northeast.
"How are we supposed to find the foal?" Barbara asked.
"It's on a farm outside a village a few miles north of Presov called Stropkov. We shouldn't be far from there now. The Czechs wouldn't say the name of the farm, but it's supposed to be a deserted collective. We'll learn more at a mountain shrine on the way to Stropov."
Barbara knew about mountain shrines. They were small wooden prayer stations villagers put up in memory of someone who was lost or found or died there. Usually they had a small statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary under a roof where flowers or a candle were placed.
"We'll keep off the roads, in case that patrol I saw comes along," Stephen said.
Barbara had a lot of questions, but did not want to ask them for fear their voices might be heard. One important one was, "What will we do if we find the foal?," and the other was, "How are we going to get back to Vienna?"
After they walked through the woods for several hours, the sun passed overhead. Stephen heard something that made him stop and hold Barbara. He led her deeper into the forest and they watched as half a dozen Nazi soldiers holding their rifles at-the-ready trudged up a road near where they had been walking. After the infantrymen passed on by, Stephen and Barbara walked on again toward Stropkov.
Both were hungry but even more thirsty, so a fast-running mountain stream they passed was a very welcome sight. They drank from it, then started on their way again.