A New LifeFor seven days I rode through towns and villages. I slept in farmers' barns and in fields. In towns with an inn, I rented a room. I visited every hospital and clinic I heard about. I circled my way closer and closer to the Russian border, seeing Russian lorries filled with soldiers. No one questioned me. They accepted my authority and rank. I spoke with some of them, shared a tent with a Colonel who had been at Stalingrad. We exchanged stories and drank vodka until late in the night. It was the Colonel who told me about the hospital in Zvia, a small town just shading the border on the Polish side. It lay half an hour away, perhaps less. The obliging Colonel drew me a map. We spoke together of Vasilevsky, of his intelligence and bravery. The Colonel admired him and when he found o
