Cows were being driven from the far side of the Liskovitsa into the flood meadows nearer to the Desna.
I covered the old man’s face with his peaked cap. Then changed my mind and put his headgear on properly. Over the scar. In life, the man had observed his Jewish rules, let there be order in death as well.
I make no secret of the fact that to start with I’d wanted to wrap the body in the cloak-tent. But I refrained. I knew the role of clothing when bodies were discovered.
Know it or not, I didn’t go through the dead man’s pockets. Something I remembered as I was going down the hill.
Back I went. I dug up the grave. Searched him. His jacket pocket held a rag and a bit of newspaper. I examined them both. Rubbish. I buried him again and replaced the turf. The impact of military savvy.
In
