Sometimes It's Better to be Lucky, Than Good

When I walked in the barracks I was firm but resolute. I quietly told my friends I was going to sneak out, if I could; at least I was going to try. If this doesn't work I said I wanted to talk to the guy who threw the snowball! My friends wondered if this was a wise choice? "Hell no, it's not, but it's what I'm going to do. At the least I've got to get word to Marianne at the bus depot." It was snowing harder so I put on my rubbers (galoshes) so I wouldn't ruin my newly shined shoes.
(When I told this story to our entire family at our sixtieth wedding anniversary the grandchildren laughed at the word "rubbers".) As I walked out of the barracks wearing my peacoat I looked at the area to see where the best place was to get out of our fenced area; I quickly decided there was some water, with snow, going under the fence in one place and I took off my peacoat; folded the outside so it covered the inside; slid on the coat, forcing the mud ahead of me so I could get under the fence; got under and out; looked around and guess where I was--Officers Quarters! Takes brains, I thought, but I forged on, with the snow now coming down even harder. I walked within 50 feet of several quarters where officers and their families stayed; heading for the trees beyond. Before long I realized I had lost one of my rubbers and when I got into the safety of the woods I threw the other rubber away into the bushes. I circled around the gate where the sentries were and came upon the road when I could no longer see the sentry area. I just started walking down the road when a truck appeared from the gate. I was relieved to see it was a civilian truck that had delivered some supplies; stuck out my thumb and he picked me up. He was headed for Couer d' Alene and I was thankful I had gotten this far. We progressed a few miles down to a better road when he realized he had a flat tire! I apologized for not being able to help him, having already told him I was late to my wedding. At this stage I felt it was his problem - not mine. He understood and wished me well. (Continued)