Of Windmills and War (The War Trilogy #1)

by Diane Moody

One of the Jewish ladies hidden away beneath the Boormans’ barn told me something yesterday I shall never forget. She reached her hands up to cradle my face, then said, “We cannot know what the future holds, but we know who holds the future.”

The Germans certainly had it coming. The atrocities and bloodshed at their hands were the sole source of blame for the war here in the European Theater. Still, an odd and quite unexpected sense of sadness drifted through him, knowing there were also innocent lives lost below. Yes, war was necessary and he was honored to do his part. But that didn’t make it palatable.

Bewildered. That’s it. An interminable look of bewilderment on that face and in those eyes, as if every moment held unlimited potential.