The young man looked out the train window, his eyes searching for his parents in the crowd of people waving goodbye to loved ones who, like him, were riding off to war.
He didn’t want to go but had little choice. He could have tried to flee. But if he had made it, he might never see his family again. And if he’d been caught, he would have been imprisoned.
Now his parents came into view, but they were not waving or even looking his way. They were holding one another. His mother faced away. He saw his father crying.
He didn’t want to go but had little choice. He could have tried to flee. But if he had made it, he might never see his family again. And if he’d been caught, he would have been imprisoned.
Now his parents came into view, but they were not waving or even looking his way. They were holding one another. His mother faced away. He saw his father crying.
