Olga stood on the train platform, the steam whirling round
her then pulling away with the train as it left, reflecting how a part of
her soul felt as she watched it go. She had no idea when he might be back again, ‘if ever’ her
mind whispered, but she didn’t want to face that.
The war had brought them together, surely it wouldn’t tear them apart too?
But there was no telling with the stories the newsreels brought, the horror of more and more fallen soldiers each week. And should he get captured she prayed his family heritage would remain hidden, or the next train might be one of the cattle trucks she’d seen on the newsreel last week, when they boasted about the cleansing in the gas chambers.
The war had brought them together, surely it wouldn’t tear them apart too?
But there was no telling with the stories the newsreels brought, the horror of more and more fallen soldiers each week. And should he get captured she prayed his family heritage would remain hidden, or the next train might be one of the cattle trucks she’d seen on the newsreel last week, when they boasted about the cleansing in the gas chambers.
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