17 Days to Freedom

July 4, 1966
Day 5: As the POWs ascended up the mountainous divide, they entered an inhospitable world of no sun or sky visible through the green ceiling, and walls of trees and vines blocking their way. After a few hours they had advanced only 300 feet in pouring rain. They could see they would have to climb another 3,000 feet through the dense vegetation to get over the pass. They were both panting, struggling for breath. “Duane, it’s no good,” Dieter said. “Let’s go back. Keep looking for a river.” They went a lot faster sliding down in mud and muck than they did climbing up. The day had involved more exertion than any other since their escape, and at the same time they were rapidly deteriorating physically. Yet, when it was over, they had only ended up back where they had started. Turning his head away, Dieter quietly let tears of frustration flow. He had lost track of the date, and did not know it was July 4th. He had decided months earlier that by Independence Day he would either be dead from having tried and failed to escape — or free.