Prisoners of Love
PRISONERS OF LOVE Dorothy looked up as the door creaked open, her fingers hovering above the heavy, black typewriter, a look of mild irritation on her face. Colonel John McGinty registered the look and his mouth twitched in the typical military smile she had grown to despise. Why did soldiers act as if emotions were an enemy to be killed, rather than something to embrace? He stepped into the tiny office and Dorothy took in the tall German in the doorway. She was used to the sight of Germans in...