``Good man, Styka.''

``Captain Jan, must you go inside Majdanek? The stories. Everyone really knows what is happening there.''

``Not everyone, Styka.''

``What good will it really do?''

``I don't know. Perhaps -- perhaps -- there is a shred of conscience left in the human race. Perhaps if they know the story there will be a massive cry of indignation.''

``Do you really believe that, Jan?''

``I have to believe it.''

Styka shook his head slowly. ``I am only a simple soldier. I cannot think things out too well. Until I was transferred into the Seventh Ulanys I was like every other Pole in my feeling about Jews. I hated you when I first came in. But my captain might have been a Jew, but he wasn't a Jew. What I mean is, he was a Pole and the greatest soldier in the Ulanys. Hell, sir. The men of our company had a dozen fights defending your name. You never knew about it, but by God, we taught them respect for Captain Androfski.''

Andrei smiled.

``Since the war I have seen the way the Germans have behaved and I think, Holy Mother, we have behaved like this for hundreds of years. Why?''

``How can you tell an insane man to reason or a blind man to see?''

``But we are neither blind nor insane. The men of your company would not allow your name dishonored. Why do we let the Germans do this?''

``I have sat many hours with this, Styka. All I ever wanted was to be a free man in my own country. I've lost faith, Styka. I used to love this country and believe that someday we'd win our battle for equality. But now I think I hate it very much.''