The Silent Echo of the Mountain There seemed to be a change of course to the left, a sudden increase in engine speed, a tremendous roar. The aircraft fought its way upward from the heart of the valley The pilot’s knuckles whitened as he wrestled with the controls, desperate to overcome the looming mountain peak. Sparks of flame erupted from an engine, painting the night sky with fiery streaks. And then, an enormous explosion, a searing burst of light that illuminated the mountaintop. The night was no longer silent. It was marred by fire and continuous explosions that echoed through the valley. There would be no survivors. As dawn approached, partisans arrived at the crash site. The mountain was now a battlefield of twisted metal and scorched earth. They saw scattered wreckage, shattered wings, mangled fuselage, and the remnants of what was once an aircraft. The RAF circular identification painted on the aircraft remained un-marred, a testament to its origin. Twelve bodies, all victims of the horrific crash and fire, were laid out for burial. And there, at the edge of the wreckage, one crew member, remained untouched by the fire. A villager at the crash site recalled the “handsome blond boy who seemed to be sleeping.” The partisans worked tirelessly, digging a mass grave near the crash site. Two salvaged tubular containers became a simple cross, and marked their final resting place, a silent testament to the price of war. As the sun climbs higher, casting its light upon the mountain, the echoes of the explosion have faded, but the memory of the long past night lingers as a haunting whisper carried by the wind. A monument to remember the thirteen men and their sacrifice remains, forever a part of the mountain’s silent echo. In memory of the crew and SOE personnel of Halifax II BB412, 148 RAF Squadron. Read the full account at: http://www.wartimeheritage.com/storyarchive2/story_in_defence_of_freedom_HalifaxIIBB412.htm