“Shit!” grandfather howls. “Shitty shit!” I already know that the Russian tanks are in Kaunas, that Lithuania has met the doom grandfather predicted. “Shit!” grandfather roars. “The little fools—they fought with the Poles over Vilnius, only to live to see the Russkies! A shitty nation!” Grandfather rushes headlong with the little silver bucket from the outhouse in the bushes to the shed and back again.
