Walking in a Winter Wonderland is meant to be a happy song, and we sing it to lighten the mood as we march through the snow.
The soldiers threaten to shoot anyone who sings.
For miles and miles, the only sound is the crunching of the snow beneath our bare feet, the moaning… the occasional gunshot and thud, the quickened pace.
I mouth the words as I walk. For hours, the song in my head.
And then, I hear it: sleigh bells ringing.
A soldier pulls me out of the line, and he aims his rifle at me.
And fires.