About Logan

Logan C. Dias is a ninth grader at Prior Lake High School. He lives in Savage, Minnesota, and is the author's grandson. His interests include creating video games, playing guitar, art and swimming, He aspires to work for Nintendo or Sega after college. He's a fan of the Minnesota Vikings and Brett Favre. Logan has illustrated all of the author's books. 

Excerpt

His emaciated body went limp as he sagged against the wall of the mine shaft.  His once well-muscled arms and chest were little more than skeletal.  Mike stared at the bits of paper in his hand.  His money - all his savings were gone.  He had been so close to having enough.  The tears came then and sobs wracked his gaunt frame – but men weren’t supposed to cry.  

How long had he been in this wretched place?  The initial excitement had long since unraveled as the reality of war hit hard.

He had been standing on the battlefield, rifle raised, with the enemy in his sights. What will it feel like to kill a man?  Just as he started to pull the trigger, Mike felt a searing pain in his arm.  A bullet had pierced the flesh and come out on the other side.  Not one shot had he fired and he was already wounded.

Oh, so this is what it feels like to get shot.

The treatment was as bad as the injury.  Mike tried hard not to flinch as the wound was cleansed with a cotton-tipped wire dipped in kerosene.  He soon found himself at the front again, his arm tender and the memory of the pain very real.

There is no way I want to inflict similar pain on any man. It was almost a relief when he had been captured and sent to Siberia.

At least they were paid a little for their work in the mine.  Mike had determined long ago that he would run away and he planned to take his friend, Stephan, with him when he left.  They talked about it often when they were sure no one would overhear.  That was before - before the rats, those horrid creatures that chewed a man’s money and spat it out to form a soft nest for their little ones.

He shivered, whether from the chill or from his bleak situation, he could not tell.  What was he to do?  I’ll just have to start saving all over again.  In the meantime, I’ll keep learning to speak Russian.  It will come in handy when the time comes to escape. 

He had already mastered the Czechoslovakian language and picked up more than a little Yugoslavian from other prisoners.  He had even learned a few Yiddish words from a Russian Jew who had been incarcerated for speaking up against the ruling government.

Mike pulled himself up to his full height.  He must get back to work before someone missed him and looked for him.  He squared his shoulders and hurried down the black tunnel.  The only light came from his bit of candle, and that might soon go out to leave him in total darkness.

Young, strong and fearless, Mike had been excited when drafted into the Austrian army.  He perceived it as an opportunity to leave the small farm and experience something of the world. His friend Stephan had been conscripted at the same time. The two young men had just been issued their uniforms.

Mike’s enthusiasm paled as thoughts of home intruded.  “It will be hard to leave Tato and Mama.”  His expression drooped a little then lifted.  “But just think of all the traveling we can do.…”

“…and all the fun we can have - the people we’ll meet.”  As he finished Mike’s sentence, Stephan straightened his uniform jacket, stood a little taller than his five-foot-nine frame allowed, and strutted about the room.  “Perhaps some pretty girls!  I’ve noticed they are attracted to guys in uniform.  Let’s be on our way.”

Mike raked a calloused hand through his dark mane of hair and grinned at his friend.  That’s Stephan, always thinking of the girls.  He has such an easy manner about him.  He has a smile that always captivates….

Reader Comments

"Hi - we are sending $20.00 for your book! Sylvia read me some passages from your book. You are a great writer."  (Ethel)

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