Block 11 – Piero Degli Antoni

Paul fixed his jacket, heaving an indignant sigh. “I had trouble here, too. I never got used to it. I didn’t like the way the commander ran the camp. Stealing and being forced to steal. For himself and his men. You all know much better than I. It isn’t befitting of a German officer.

It’s contemptible. He steals goods that are meant for the German people. With the help of a few friends, I managed to send word of his dealings to Berlin. Breitner found out and has not forgiven me. He couldn’t extradite me, given my father’s rank, so he decided to wait until an appropriate opportunity arose.” “Well, I’d say given the situation, our dilemma has been resolved,” Otto declared. “We have here an SS officer among us. There’s no need for further discussion.

Call the Oberscharführer.” “In a bit of a rush to leave here, aren’t you?” Paul asked wryly. “You would even have let a woman face execution just to leave this barrack. Spineless, cowardly Communists.” “All right, slow down,” Moshe interjected. “It was Alexey’s idea to choose Myriam. I assure you that no one here would have allowed it. We’re not animals. You may indulge yourself with that thought and try as you may, but you have not yet reduced us to that state.”

“Good then, we’ve agreed?” Otto carried on. “We’ll name Paul; he seems the obvious choice.” Without another word, he headed in the direction of the door. “Go ahead. Call the commander and tell him that you’ve decided to have me executed.” Hauser smiled. “Precisely,” Otto replied as he reached for the door. “Wait a minute,” Berkovitz said. “Just wait a minute.” “What is it?” Otto said, agitated by the interruption. “Let’s just think about this a moment,” said the ex-financier.

“We need to weigh out each of the particulars. Take a look at him.” He pointed at Paul. “What do you mean?” “Take a good look. He’s wearing a jacket, made of soft, thick leather. Have any of you ever come across something like this inside the camp? Moshe, you would know. Have you seen one like this?”

Moshe shook his head. “Even I don’t think I could manage to score something of the sort, and if I did, I certainly couldn’t go around wearing it. The SS would annihilate me.” “Exactly. What else?

The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way. Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us.macmillanusa.com/piracy. 1kitap1.com/en For my father, a partisan without ideologies, who never lost sight of the right path 1kitap1.com/en Contents Title Page Copyright Notice Dedication Begin Reading Acknowledgments Glossary About the Author Copyright 1kitap1.com/en “Wake up.

Wake up, my darling.” The old man sleeping next to her opened his eyes with great effort. “Mmm … what is it, libling?” “It’s time to get up. Today is the day, have you forgotten? Come on, I’ll get breakfast ready.” The woman thrust the sheets aside with a force that allowed her feet to slide down toward the floor. With her soles planted firmly on the ground, she steadied her body, her weight on her elbow, bracing herself for the next step. She was old and tired, and the maneuvering required simply to stand up grew more exhausting with each passing day.

For a moment, she stayed very still, allowing both the dizziness to pass and her heart rate to steady again. Behind her, still motionless, lay her husband, his eyes wide open. He too waited, in hopes that he would be seized by enough energy to get out of bed.

She counted silently. “One … two … three.” By the time she reached ten, she told herself, she would be on her feet. She found herself filled with an inexplicable sense of relief. For a moment she marveled at the unanticipated sensation. And then it suddenly made sense: there was hardly a need to rush; she could give herself all the time in the world she needed to get out of bed; it was assuredly a luxury that had not been afforded to her earlier in her life.

“Ten.” With one deep breath she pulled herself up. She felt dizzy, but she would need only a few seconds before taking her first steps of the day. In just three or four small strides, she would reach the windowsill. Just beyond those glass panes she’d find the streets of Brooklyn, saturated in the gray light of dawn.

The view wasn’t terribly magnificent— just little two-story houses, a corner tobacco shop, and a school in the distance.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

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• Unique ID: 4f25363f12c2e2be
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• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 199
• Language: English (en)

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• Estimated Reading Time: 314.46 minutes
• Total Words: 62,892
• Total Characters: 351,467
• Average Words per Page: 316.04
• Average Characters per Page: 1766.17

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