World Battlefronts: The Heart Still Beats

The sky of early night was carpeted with clouds. Beneath, within and over them, flak burst in fitful fire. It was bitter cold. The big, dark planes were sheathed in frost; the men inside them huddled freezing over instruments and guns. The sky was crowded with the ghostly bombers, growling toward Berlin.

On the Reich capital a drizzle was falling. Berlin was dark, but alive behind its blacked-out windows. A thousand factories were humming. In ten thousand offices men and women were ending their long day's work with the minutiae of a government at war. In a million homes house wives were...

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