My Name Is Ivan. Swooping like a barn swallow, Ivan soars over the wooded hills to where his mother walks along a sun-dappled road carrying her water pails. "Hear the cuckoo, Mamma," he says. But there is a sharp sound, and the mother falls in the dust . . . Ivan awakens in a ruined barn, cold and crying out in terror.
He runs off into a swamp, the dawn mist floating in tatters through the dead trees. Ivan is a spy. For two years, he has been foraging information behind the Nazi lines, living...
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