It began as a simple field exercise—but quickly became something much more human. This week, a training mission involving French mountain troops unexpectedly captured hearts across the countryside. The mission’s highlight? A local grandmother who quietly hid two soldiers in her barn, echoing the spirit of resistance that has long defined the Vercors region.
When training meets history
For three days, around thirty members of the 27th Mountain Infantry Battalion took part in a demanding survival and evasion exercise in southeastern France. The goal was to test their ability to operate independently, avoid capture by gendarmerie teams, and reach an extraction point. By Friday morning, everyone had made it safely to the Belley airfield—tired, muddy, and deeply impressed by the solidarity of local residents.
One story stood out above the rest: an elderly woman who, without hesitation, offered shelter to two of the soldiers, hiding them in her old barn until it was safe to move on. The gesture may have been part of a simulation, but it struck a very real emotional chord. For many, it revived memories of the region’s wartime past, when villagers risked everything to protect resistance fighters in precisely the same way.
Echoes of the Vercors resistance
The Vercors plateau holds a unique place in French history. During the Second World War, it became a symbol of defiance, where villagers and freedom fighters joined forces to resist occupation. In those days, ordinary people—teachers, farmers, even children—played extraordinary roles, offering food, information, or hiding places to those fighting for liberation.
Among them were figures like Pierre Rangheard, a logistics officer who helped supply the local maquis with weapons and ammunition, and Claude Falck, a young engineer from the École Polytechnique who became one of the region’s most daring resistance leaders. Both men paid a heavy price for their courage, and their names remain etched in the memory of the mountains they helped defend.
The grandmother’s gesture during this week’s exercise felt like a quiet homage to that heritage. As one officer put it, “Sometimes training becomes a bridge between generations. We were playing our part—but she was living her history.”
Courage, memory, and everyday heroes
What makes the story resonate isn’t just the historical parallel—it’s the reminder that courage often looks ordinary. Whether it’s a soldier trekking through the woods or a villager offering shelter, bravery is rarely loud. It’s the quiet act of helping, of standing firm, of doing what feels right even when no one’s watching.
Today, many of the barns and mountain paths that once hid resistance fighters are still standing. Some have been restored as memorials; others simply remain part of the landscape, silent witnesses to what happened there. School groups often visit them to learn about the sacrifices made in those dark years—how ordinary families faced impossible choices, and how some paid with their lives for protecting strangers.
Passing the torch
For the soldiers of the 27th Battalion, this exercise wasn’t just about tactics—it was about connection. It reminded them that military skill is only part of what makes a soldier; understanding the human side of resilience matters just as much.
And for the people of the Vercors, it was a moment to remember that their valleys once stood for something larger than fear. The grandmother who opened her barn doors may not have set out to make history, but in her own way, she honoured the spirit of those who did.
Because in the end, whether in wartime or training, resistance always begins the same way—with someone who refuses to look away, and who quietly decides, “I can help.”
