Authors: Unknown Author
The woman with the two photographs pressed forward. 'Please, sir! Tell me,
please
! Have you seen my boys?'
The man stopped and took the photographs.
The girl felt her heart stop beating. It was Hechler. For a long moment she stared at him without moving, taking in every precious detail. The lines were deeper on either side of his mouth, and there were touches of grey beneath his cap. He was wearing that same old fisherman's jersey under his jacket. He seemed oblivious to the cold.
Hechler said quietly, 'I am sorry, my dear, I have not seen them. But don't lose hope -' He looked up and saw her and the next instant she was wrapped in his arms. He did not even see the woman staring after him, as if he had just performed a miracle.
How long they clung together, neither of them knew.
She whispered, 'It had to be the right train!' She ran her hand over him as if to reassure herself he was real. She saw the loose threads on his right breast where the Nazi eagle had once been, and looked up to see a new brightness in his blue eyes.
He said, 'I knew I'd find you, my little bird. Somehow -'
Some British sailors were waving and cheering as some of their companions boarded another train.
Hechler put his arm around her shoulders and they walked out into the drifting snow.
Once he glanced back at the station and the jubilant British sailors.
Then he squeezed her shoulders and said softly, 'Like us, they're going home.'