Demokrata No. 182, August 30, 1944

”At night, I regularly meet an old gentleman. We have dubbed him the ‘sleepless father’. I once asked him: ‘Why don’t you go to sleep?’ – ‘I cannot,’ he replied in a low voice. ‘I have a son up on the barricade near the BGK bank. He is my only son. Ever since he has been there I cannot sleep’.
He smiled apologetically and set out again on his never-ending walk. And I remained silent.”