If seeing her an hour before her lastWeak cough into all blackness I could yetBe held by chalk-white walls- The Consumptive. Belsen 1945

God help me! I am small and alone but I must help them; and I most not waste a moment, because every moment another soul dies.

There was still something I could do: I could tell the world.

The throbbing engines of the ship and its relentless passage onwards through the sea brought back to us the ever urgency of moving Time, and then we knew that neither they nor we would would...