Poland, Prague & Budapest


“‘My—my—’ she starts to say, pointing to the entire monument.

‘Brother?’ I ask, somehow knowing what she’s talking about. She nods, and the tears in her eyes make clear what happened to him almost seventy years ago.

           ‘Good luck,’ she says, before tightening her bright pink coat and walking into the fierce winter wind. And I turn away and let a tear fall…for her brother and countless other teenagers who slipped through debris and sewers to fight a losing battle for their homeland, for the fact that so few people know what the Poles went through, for the simple reason that—sometimes—there's just no way to put it all to words.”