CHAPTER FOURThe Little Horn
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“One two three, Stalin. One two three, Stalin.” They were marching in double file near Pusztaszer, a famous site where the original seven Hungarian tribes sealed their brotherhood with blood. “One two three, Stalin.” The Pioneers counted to themselves and shouted only “Stalin,” the name of the great hero and liberator. Attila marched in the back of the line alongside another boy from his village, Gypsy.
Before he left for camp, Attila’s father told him his cousin Piroshka was still in the hospital, her life hanging by a thread. Attila felt a weakness wash over his body when he heard the news, and now his knees threatened to buckle. They were told they had another ten kilometers to go when his side started to hurt. It seemed like they would march on forever
