In 1993, I joined an aid mission to the former country of Yugoslavia to deliver much-needed food and medical supplies. The trip should have lasted just five days...
It soon became a much longer journey into the unknown, where I met desperate people on all sides of the Balkan conflict, saw the horrific devastation caused by war, and saw entire villages flattened by missiles.
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Scars don't go away. There's always a trace.
Whether that applies to WWII, or the pain of betrayal.
Six years. Two sides. Two nations, their stories intertwined.
Let's see how my version of WWII plays out in this universe, shall we?