From Maker to Rubble

From Maker to Rubble:

World War Two, Normandy, a platoon ran down an unnamed street shattered by gunfire. One man, Private Whoever, stopped for a moment and noticed a violin. His stop was only mental; his feet were conditioned to keep running regardless of what his eyes told him.
If that weren’t the case, if his eyes had rested on the instrument, the soldier would have thought about that violin’s story. He would have wondered how on earth it could have ended up there, pristine among the rubble of France.
Whose was it? How much did it cost, and how did its owner afford it? How many hands were on that violin, from maker to rubble?
But the man had miles to go before he’d dream, and lives to end.

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