06/04/2005

The young lieutenant of a small Hungarian detachment in the Alps

sent a reconnaissance unit out onto the icy wasteland.

It began to snow

immediately,

snowed for two days and the unit

did not return.

The lieutenant suffered:

he had dispatched

his own people to death.

But the third day the unit came back.

Where had they been? How had they made their way?

Yes, they said, we considered ourselves

lost and waited for the end. And then one of us

found a map in his pocket. That calmed us down.

We pitched camp, lasted out the snowstorm and then with the map

we discovered our bearings.

And here we are.

The lieutenant borrowed this remarkable map

and had a good look at it. It was not a map of the Alps

but of the Pyrenees

Miroslav Holub, Brief Thoughts on Maps

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