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A true story of war's end - and getting home, as personally authored by my dear friend who has lived in Canada for more than 60 years.

It was the 10th of May 1945. It was the worst of times. Our unit had broken up and we were told to get up on the few Panthers that were still operating on the Eastern Front. The four of us climbed on, there was enough room on top. The tanker crew went inside and the Panther roared off, roughly in a northerly direction. We were somewhere in northern Czechoslovakia. The tankers told us to watch for the Russian T34s. "How do we know they are there", we asked. They howl like this: "Grrrrr". "Right", we said. We could not hear anything over the roar of the Panther anyway. But we tried to listen for the "Grrrrr". When the tank commander came up and looked out we asked where we are going, "Home" he just said. "What about the war" I asked. He shrugged "It's over". We did not know that. "What about those T34s?", "Keep your eyes open and let us know". And off we went. We stopped after a while, the few other Panthers were there too. We ate what we had, went into the bushes, a few shells came over and crashed close by. The tankers were in a hurry now. "Go-go-go!", and we took off again.

After a while we came to a village. All deserted, maybe the people were all hiding. One woman came out and talked with us. She did not want to come along. "We are the last ones," She said, "The Russians come next". Her daughter came out too. They had a hidden cellar and she was to hide there. "We stay here" they said. So we had to leave them.

It was a good thing that we were with the tankers now. They had their wireless and knew what was going on. We had not seen our group commander for days now. Who knew where the rest of our company was? We stuck to our tank, and they were grateful that they had extra eyes outside. The tankers all had great respect for the T34s. We felt the same now.

The tankers were going to join up with the Americans and go with them against the Russians. We could not believe that the Allies would let them take over half of Europe.

We played cat and mouse with the Russians. Not getting too close to them. Always trying to stay ahead of that "growling". Coming through one village the driver started to swear, stopped the tank and banged around inside, came up and threw a few odd pieces of his machinery out, told us all to get away and run, dropped a grenade inside and closed the hatch. A big bang and we were on foot now. The supply truck came, we piled in the back, our driver at the wheel and we went on, always going north. To the border and home. On a plateau we stopped and unloaded the ammunition from the truck. Not needed anymore. On we went, there were more Germans around now. The road was going up a hill. On it was pandemonium. The road was lined with equipment. Cars, trucks, guns, the last remnants of Schorner's army. (Even he could not stop the Russians). Some drivers let their trucks roll down the hill. The last "fun" of a defeated army. Our truck stopped. "Out of gas, walk now, get going - or do you want to go to Siberia?" I still had my gun in my arms. An older sergeant stopped me "Come on son, let's go home now. We have capitulated. Leave your gun here." So I did, thinking what a shame it was to throw away such a nice gun. I was young, most of the other soldiers were looking old. The idea that we had lost the war was still new to me.

The sargent stopped a truck, he got in the cab, I and a few others got into the back. It was a new truck. On we went again. Villages were deserted, or people were hiding. We just kept going north, towards the German border. Towards Zittau, we were told. We were glad to get out of Czechoslovakia, They did not like us and we just wanted to go home. No more war.

On we went. The Russians are ahead, we were told, but we had no choice. We had to go across the river there to get onto German soil and see how we could manage it.

Driving on and on, tired, sleeping and waking, bumping along in the truck, finally, Zittau, the bridge is still there. Through the town in the early morning. Russians, on the road, stopping us, pointing into a courtyard, everybody off the truck. Who can speak the Russian language. The tankers are still. I said that I know some Latin from school. "Then you talk with them". A Russian says something like "Nja domo", It rings a bell, Domo, home maybe. Go home. I nod, "Nja domo", we all say. All smile, even the Russians.

THE PAINTING (Above..)

A Russian with red epaulettes comes, looks at our new truck and tells me something. But I can only say "Nja domo", hoping it means we want to go home. He draws a small sketch of a truck and points at himself. Oh no, I'm thinking, he wants the truck. He draws another

So this is what happens behinds the scenes. I start up aperture, turn on my wireless mighty mouse, and plug in my headphones and listen to my neighborhs mix. Its exciting to see which pictures turned out and which didn't. Within 15 minutes I can narrow down my usually 500+ photos to 10 or so that I really like.

I usually set up at cafes but since I was in Susanville OR the only thing that was still open was the burger king down the road. This was in my hotel room.