The fall of the year shone gently upon the broken cities and the exhausted fields of Europe. On Berlin's Kreuzberg, frost stiffened upon the worm-wrought, illegible features of an exhumed, Gestapo-killed cadaver to which someone had attached a tag reading, Homo sapiens.
Of the unrecounted millions of Europeans who survived him, few could greet the season with anything of its own tenderness. It was the first autumn of liberation, the first since the end of the war. It was the first autumn of the atomic age.
The Bells. In the steep forests of...
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