In 1943, we became prisoners of war. I sought answers, I begged for clarity, but all I could do was accept my fate. Shattering rocks with axes under the eyes of our CAPOs became routine. Hope lingered, yet it blinded me from seeing the cruel truth that I was a prisoner.

That hope slowly faded, replaced by the harsh reality that escape attempts always ended in failure. I convinced myself not to follow those who tried, believing they would be caught.

But then, one day, I met a man different...