They took young fathers away from their children. The crying reached the heavens. Civilian passengers were not allowed to travel. My dear, I cannot write you more, because before my eyes stand the mothers, wives, and children who are taking leave for who knows how long. We sit and wait.
Nobody wants to show money, and know one is working.
And here suddenly and entirely unexpectedly I am standing in the street and the mailman brings me a letter from you containing an inquiry about the pass from Warsaw and a ticket to Podotek. But I myself saw nothing, only your letter, and with one leap I ran into the house, and imagine our joy upon receiving word that you had sent us money. In the meantime, the money is not yet here. We have cried out all our tears. While I am writing these words I am shedding tears.