“We woke up the next morning to see the colder weather had made the snow compact, so we managed to push his Jeep out from where it was stuck and continue on towards town. We didn’t get far before we came across a large skyscraper of a hemlock tree that had fallen over the road. There wasn’t a chance in hell that we could move it, so our only choice now was to walk. John knew a guy living at the trailer park in town who would help us move the tree apparently. I took his word and we began the fifteen mile trek through the forest. With no breakfast, my hunger was intensifying. In my hurry, I hadn’t brought any food and I wasn’t about to ask a broke man to share his stock. Alongside this tall, long-limbed viking striding effortlessly through the snow, I aimed to match his pace, managing to walk ten miles on an empty stomach, but eventually I became light-headed and no longer understood his words, nor had any ability to answer. I was too proud to be the lesser man and burden our platoon, but still I pleaded to him for us to stop. He manfully boiled some baby potatoes on his stove beside a rushing stream and forked three onto my plate. His motions were meticulous as if he knew that this donation of his only sustenance was a trying game to play. I felt like a disgrace. The meal was over almost before it began and we kept walking. Soon we saw a yellow truck driving steadily in our direction. John waved to it. The driver stopped and rolled down his window. He was a pale slavic man with blue eyes, a catlike face and curled up lips. His smile was full of haughty laughter and he claimed he had no interest in helping us in any way. John yelled at him in a fury and stormed off down the road in the spirit of a coyote loping on towards greater escapades.”