style="font-size:15px;"> Natasha took Stanislav’s hand in hers. She didn’t want the walk to the station to end just yet, but it wasn’t far, and soon they were there.
In the sea of weeping women and sombre men, Natasha hugged her brother and said, ‘Promise to write. And please, please, please, come back soon. I still need you to protect me.’
Lisa hugged her brother and said, ‘I’m glad Alexei is only eighteen. He’s not enlisting yet.’
Nikolai couldn’t say anything because he was struggling to hold back tears, so he hugged his brother in silence.
Mother wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. ‘It’s so unexpected. I wish we had some warning, more time to prepare.’
‘It’s okay, Mama,’ said Stanislav, putting his rucksack down on the pavement and embracing his mother. ‘It’s easier this way.’
‘On the train, eat the boiled eggs and bread I packed for you. Wear your jumper if it gets cold.’
‘A fine soldier I would make, wearing a jumper at the end of June.’ Seeing his mother’s stricken face, Stanislav added, ‘I love you, Mama. Please, don’t cry.’
‘When are we going to see you again? What are we going to do?’ Mother sobbed.
‘Soon, Mama, I promise. I’ll be back soon. This war won’t last long. A couple of months at most.’
‘Look after yourself, son,’ said Father. ‘We’ll see you when it’s all over.’
In silence they watched Stanislav as he climbed into the carriage and turned around, a sad smile on his face. ‘Girls, look after your mother,’ he said, saluting them once more, and then the train was moving and the Smirnovs were running along the platform to catch one final glimpse of their firstborn son and older brother. Soon he was gone but still they stood, watching the train that carried Stanislav to the front, until the train, too, had disappeared. Then they went home, where they had dinner without their son and without their brother. As they chewed their meatballs and vegetable salad, the girls and their mother and even Nikolai cried quietly into their plates.
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