A huge crowd of people came to see them off. Women and young girls waved to husbands, brothers and sons, clutching embroidered handkerchiefs sodden with tears. Civilian men played accordions and domobranci still awaiting transport yipped and hollered and implored pretty girls to dance with them one last polka. The trucks pulled away and the merriment in Viktring faded from view, but continued among the domobranci travelling to the... Read More →
I double-checked that nobody was listening, and then I looked at the picture and said quietly, “I wish I was an adult, in charge of myself and had kids, too. Then I could be in charge of someone else.” I ran to my room and fell asleep miserable. I opened my eyes the next morning. Everything was strangely different: the picture of Mary was in my room, my bed was twice... Read More →
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