Rabbit, Soldier, Angel, Thief - by Katrina Nannestad

So silent. Until the stomping begins. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Over and over again. The tanks are gone, but the soldiers are here. German soldiers. Monsters. They march into the village, down our street, their boots all striking the ground at the same time. Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Their boots are big and black and heavy with lots of nails in the soles and they stomp so hard that my head throbs. Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! And then they stop. Right here in front of our house. I stare up at the Germans. They are young and handsome. Their boots are dusty but their clothes are clean and finely made, and their shirtsleeves are rolled up to show strong tanned arms. They don’t look like monsters. They look like princes. Every single one of them. Mama tries to push Yelena and me back into our house, but one of the princes barks some sort of command and we know that we are supposed to stay and admire their beauty. Two princes now step forward. One of them shouts to us in his own language and another shouts it all again in Russian. They lie. They tell us that Russia no longer exists. The Red Army has been defeated. Our land and all the land

21