Excerpt 2: The Concert (Nov. 1)
This is an excerpt from my new book, The Concert. Based on a true story from World War II, The Concert traces the efforts of a group of musicians, writers and artists to defy Hitler’s invasion of their beloved city of Leningrad and attempts to starve them to death. Channeling creativity, showcasing hope, they summoned their strength, against the odds, to perform a symphony written by Dmitri Shostakovich, about the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union.
If you like this excerpt, please buy the book here. Audio book coming shortly.
Chapter 1: The Nazi
With other reporters, we sat in a courtroom, waiting for the Nazi War Crimes Tribunal to begin. I was surprised the Kremlin had sent me – word was that Stalin had asked the other allied leaders – Churchill, de Gaulle and Truman – not to mention Leningrad. I have always believed he was jealous of our city’s cultural heritage – a rich history of intellectual and artistic creativity. He seemed more at home within the walls of the Kremlin in Moscow, where political intrigue was honed as a fine art.
No other country had as many war casualties as the Soviet Union – some said our combined civilian and military death total in World War II topped 20 million. But somehow Stalin lost this debate. The US side was adamant. What had happened in Leningrad, the Yanks insisted, was a war crime.
I thought so too.
When I entered the courtroom, I was taken by its majesty. Outside, Nuremberg may have been in ruins, the city its own kind of war victim. But inside, the tall ceilings, the robed judges, the panel of lawyers – all seemed like an august setting of the greatest solemnity.
Seated together in a box, wearing identical grey jackets, the 22 defendants had been stripped of their medals and ribbons. They were flanked by military police officers whose white helmets and green uniforms had plenty of both. The effect peeled away the frightful power of these men, exposing them as mere, if pitiful humans. I couldn’t stop looking at them. Their very presence begged the question of how men could be so cruel to other men, of why they had come to feel such an outsized sense of entitlement to kill millions of people.
“They look smaller than I imagined,” I said to Martha Gellhorn.
“Justice has that effect on some people,” she replied.
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