there are so many in the ghetto, i don't know.
there at least we had hope.
how?
the poorest farmer has more than us.
gramov. two others. i used the officer's latrine.
they said they wouldn't shit in the same hole as a jew. zus gets to his feet.
what are we doing here? zus? half a mile down the road, a tank rumbles into view.
tell me. who are we doing this for? with a shaking hand, zus tries to light a molotov cocktail but his matches are wet. he reaches into his pocket for more. instead he finds the mezuzah that was once affixed to his family's door. as he stares at it, the sound of the approaching tank grows louder.