“It was June of 1941,” said Walter Cross, looking at his grandson through the steam rising from his coffee, “I hadn’t been in the army more than a few months when I was captured by the Nazis. They sent me to a POW labor camp. They worked us all day and didn’t feed us enough to keep a kitten alive. Half the men I came in with never came out.”
Matt looked intently at his grandfather.
World War II, Nazis, and labor camps were only things he’d ever read about or seen in movies. His grandfather had lived it.
“What was it like?” Matt asked. Continue reading “In the Presence of my Enemies”