Julian Lass

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There are family stories told about my grandfather Gorit. I ask his photograph what happened. He smiles and says: 'You want to learn what happened to me?' 'Yes,' I say, 'since I cannot find out myself.'

In the photograph they stand together, my grandmother Charlotte and my grandfather Gorit. Charlotte wears a fur coat, hands in a muff. Gorit wears his Luftwaffe uniform. It is Spring 1944. They both sensed this would be the last time, my sister tells me, looking at the photograph.