From the Ashes

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The Ilyushin aircraft hummed through the air and it didn’t take long for Werner Böhm to nod off. At long last he was on his way back to Berlin. Memories streamed into his mind, happy ones and not so happy ones.

“Look at these ruins.” The voice of his superior, Norbert Gentner, startled him.

Werner opened his eyes and leaned forward to look out of the tiny window. He drew in a shocked breath. Even though he’d anticipated rubble and destruction, he hadn’t been prepared for the utter devastation he saw. Miles and miles of nothing but smoldering ruins lay beneath the aircraft. He felt a tug at his heartstrings. Berlin had once – a lifetime ago – been his home.

“Our Red Army certainly hasn’t left many reminders of Hitler’s fascist regime,” he said, wise enough not to mention that the British and American bombers had been responsible for most of the destruction and the Great Red Army had only razed to the ground what was already crumbling.

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