It all kicked off with a quick post on my feed a picture of a bloke with the caption Missing in the woods, need help. I stared at the screen for ages, halfexpecting some sort of sign. Im fortyeight, got a steady job, a grownup son living up north and a habit of staying out of other peoples messes. But that evening something nagged at me, like it was my own relative in trouble. I finally clicked the link and messaged the search team coordinator, EllieAlert.
Her reply came straight away, polite and to the point, with the rundown. In the newbies chat they told us to meet on the edge of the village at seven, bring a torch, some water, food and warm clothes safety first. I packed my rucksack carefully: an old thermos with tea, a firstaid kit, spare socks. My fingers trembled a little weird feeling, being part of something bigger.
Home was quiet now; the telly off, fresh bread smelling from the kitchen. My phone buzzed a reminder from Ellie about the meetup time. I found myself wondering why I was doing this. Was I trying to test myself, prove something to my son, or just couldnt stand watching from the sidelines? No clear answer.
It was getting dark outside. Cars whisked past on the A30, taking other worries with them. The evening chill slipped under my jacket collar. The volunteers gathered, a mixed bunch some twenty years younger, some a few years older. Ellie, a woman with a sharp bob, ran through the briefing: stick with the group, keep the radio on, stay together. I nodded along with everyone else.
We set off toward the forest, following a low fence. In the dusk the trees grew taller and denser; the villages bird song faded behind us, leaves rustling underfoot. Our torches cut patches of wet grass and the occasional puddle left by the afternoon drizzle. I kept myself in the middle of the line not at the front, not at the back.
Inside, anxiety built with each step into the gloom. The woods had their own voice branches scraping each other in the wind, a twig snapping somewhere to the right. A bloke cracked a joke about training for a marathon, but I stayed quiet, listening to my own breath, feeling fatigue rise faster than my comfort with the dark.
Every time Ellie stopped us for a radio check, my heart thumped harder. I was scared to mess up miss a signal or lose my way because I wasnt paying attention. But we followed the script: short radio commands, roll call, a quick chat about the route someone suggested skirting the lowlying puddles on the right.
After about an hour we were so deep the village lights had disappeared behind the trunks. The torches only lit a small circle around our feet; beyond that was a solid wall of shadow. My back sweated under the pack, my boots getting soggy in the damp grass.
Suddenly Ellie raised her hand and we froze. A soft voice cut through the darkness:
Anyone there?
Our torches swung to a spot where someone was crouched behind a bush. I stepped forward with two other volunteers.
In the beam appeared an elderly man, thin, with grey at his temples and grubby hands. He looked terrified and bewildered, eyes flicking between our faces.
Are you Mr. John Andrews? Ellie asked quietly.
He shook his head.
No Im Arthur got lost earlier today my leg hurts cant walk
There was a brief pause in the group we were looking for one person and found another. Ellie quickly radioed back to base:
Found an older male, not our target, need stretcher evacuation at current coordinates.
While she sorted the details, I knelt beside Arthur, pulled a blanket from my pack and tucked it over his shoulders.
Been out here long? I asked softly.
Since this morning was out for mushrooms lost the path and now my leg
His voice mixed fatigue with relief.
In that moment my task flipped: from searching to caring for someone no one expected us to find.
We examined his ankle swollen at the ankle, clearly he couldnt walk. Ellie ordered everyone to stay put until the main rescue team with a stretcher arrived.
Time dragged. Dusk turned into night. My phone showed a single bar, the radio sputtered as the cold ate the battery. Soon the signal died completely. Ellie tried the base again no luck. The protocol said we should stay put and flash our torches every five minutes.
For the first time I was alone with fear: the forest seemed louder, every shadow a threat. Yet Arthur shivered under the blanket, murmuring to himself.
The other volunteers spread around us, handed out the last of the tea from my thermos, offered him a sandwich from our rations. His hands trembled hard from cold and exhaustion.
Never thought someone would find me thank you, he whispered.
I just watched him, feeling something shift inside fear giving way to a solid calm. I wasnt just looking out for myself anymore; staying by his side mattered more than any checklist.
The wind carried the scent of damp earth and rotting leaves, moisture settled on my clothes. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance, making the night feel even longer.
We sat like that for ages, until time stopped mattering. Arthur started talking about his childhood during the war, his wife, his son who hadnt visited in years. Those stories felt richer than any of the brief encounters Id had over the past decade.
The radio still glowed weakly with a faint red dot. I kept checking my phone nothing. I knew we couldnt leave.
When the first beam of a torch cut through the fog, I didnt quite believe it at first it looked like a trick of the night. Then two figures in bright yellow jackets stepped out, followed by a handful of people with stretchers. Ellie called out a name, relief in her voice as if wed rescued more than just Arthur.
The volunteers assessed him, crosschecked a paper form, wrapped his ankle in a splint and lifted him onto a stretcher. I helped hoist him, feeling my muscles work but also a strange lightness the weight of responsibility now shared. A young guy winked at me, Hang in there, youre doing great. I nodded, not needing words.
Ellie gave a quick update: the base had just reestablished contact, sending two teams one to us, another north following fresh tracks of the missing man. Over the radio she said, Team Twelve, elderly male ready for evacuation, stable condition, heading back. A crackle, then a clear voice: Primary target located by another crew. Alive and on foot. All clear.
I held my breath. Arthur clutched my hand on the stretcher, as if he didnt want to let go.
Thank you he breathed out barely audible.
I looked into his eyes and, for the first time that night, felt I wasnt a random passerby but part of something important.
The trek back was longer than it had seemed in the dark. We rotated the stretcher youths first, then I took a handle, feeling the grass sway beneath and the cold air bite my face. Birds started singing again, a thrush flitting above. Each step brought my bodys fatigue back, but my mind stayed oddly calm.
At the forest edge, dawn broke in thin misty strips. The volunteers muttered low, joking about nighttime fitness. Ellie stayed just ahead, checking the radio and marking the exit point for headquarters. I walked beside Arthur all the way to the ambulance, making sure the blanket stayed on.
When the ambulance doors closed behind him, Ellie thanked everyone one by one. She shook my hand a little tighter than the others.
You did more today than you imagined this morning, she said.
I felt a blush under her gaze but didnt look away. Inside there was a sense of change the line between my own life and other peoples problems felt thinner.
On the drive back to the village the road looked different: the gravel was damp with dew, my boots squelched in the grass. Pink light sliced the grey sky over the rooftops. The air was heavy with moisture and tiredness, yet my steps grew steadier.
The village was hushed; windows still dark, a few silhouettes drifting by the corner shop. I stopped at my gate, slipped off the pack, leaned on the fence for a moment. A little shiver ran through me from the cold and everything Id been through, but it no longer felt like weakness.
My phone buzzed a new message from Ellie: Thanks for the night. Below it, another: Can we count on you if we need help again? I typed back quickly, Yes, absolutely.
I thought about how decisions that used to feel foreign now seemed natural. Fatigue didnt cloud my clarity; I knew I could step up again.
I lifted my head as the sunrise spread wider, painting trees and roofs in a rosy glow. In that moment I realised that being there, right then, answered my own question about worth. I was no longer just an onlooker.
