The two men exchanged glances, before his father said, “No, with the Germans.”
Pino felt his stomach sour. “Join the Nazis? Wear the swastika? No. Never.”
“Pino,” his father began, “this—”
“Do you know what I’ve been doing the past six months?” Pino said angrily. “I’ve been leading Jews and refugees over the Groppera into Switzerland to escape the Nazis, people who think nothing of machine-gunning innocent people! I cannot and will not do it.”
There was silence for several moments as both men studied him.
Finally, Uncle Albert said, “You’ve changed, Pino. You not only look like a man, you sound like one. So I’m going to tell you that unless you decide to escape to Switzerland yourself and sit out the war, you are going to be drawn into it one way or another. The first way, you wait t