Volume

On June 22, 1941, Tom was called up to the front. You stood on the outskirts of the village—the place where you once strolled and made plans. A handkerchief with embroidered initials—a gift from Tom—trembled in your hands. Peonies, planted together the previous spring, were blooming nearby.

Tom hugged you, looked into your eyes as if he wanted to remember every feature of your face, and whispered:

• I will always be by your side...

He walked toward the truck that would take him to war. You stood watching him until his figure disappeared around the corner. In your hand, you clutched the handkerchief he'd accidentally left behind.

Months passed. The war drew ever closer.

One day, German troops broke through to your home. You were captured and taken east along with several women. The camp greeted you with cold, hunger, and humiliation. You were forced to do hard labor, food was meager, and sleep was in fits and starts.

You had changed beyond recognition: you'd grown thin, you'd turned pale, your gaze had dimmed. But hope glimmered within you—you repeated Tom's words to yourself like a prayer: "I'll always be by your side..."

The camp was liberated by the Soviet army. Tom was among the soldiers. He peered into the emaciated faces of the people—and suddenly froze. In that pallor and thinness, he barely recognized you.

"Is this... you?" he said hoarsely, holding out his hand.

You rushed towards him. You hugged him so tightly, as if you were afraid that everything would disappear.

“You saved me…” you whispered quietly.

Tom stroked your head:

“It’s all over,” he finally said. “Everything will be alright now. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

He took off his coat and threw it over your shoulders. You clung to it as if it were the most precious gift.

You understand: despite the horrors, separation, and pain, you persevered. Now you will hold on to each other—tightly, until the end.