“She was leaning over him, with a slight smile that was victorious over everything: victorious over her sickness, over the incandescent air, over her exhaustion, the dust, the stench, the merciless heat. Lying flat under the bush, his eyes blood- shot and his nose bleeding. Fields told himself that he would particularly have liked to inspire such love and devotion in a German he, the son of parents who had been gassed by the Germans at Auschwitz: it would have proved that to be a man was after all not hopeless. To fall in love with a German girl, he a Jew, that would show the Germans how he felt about it. But perhaps it was merely lust.”
Book:The Roots of Heaven
