December 1942
Hugo cried, he cried and cried. It was World War 2 and his older brother, 18 was being shipped to Poland to fight for the Allies. It was horrific. As they watched another train come in after seeing his brothers leave he saw wounded soldiers. Missing legs, arms, eyes, ears anything imaginable. He cried. Hugo knew his brother may never return. He knew it but he denied it. He would never admit it. Hugo would never admit many things. That was one of the many. Hugo lived.with his parents, they were the most humble people you would ever meet. Even though they were at the top of London society. Penthouse, maids, butlers, nice clothes, nice everything. But they were far from snobby. They donated lots to charity and war funds and at the moment they were sheltering two family's. And one of which had a wonderful daughter who Hugo had a secret crush on. Her name was Elizabeth or Lizzy as he called her. Her family also had lots of money and they were kind but their house was bombed and Lizzy and Hugo were close friends. So they were staying with them. Lizzy had gotten him through many hard things. He was afraid the soonest hard thing she would help him through was his brothers death. Hugo thought to himself, D E A T H. Such a somber word. It could take peace out of anything in a second. A concept of sadness...
