The Russian poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko tells of a day in Moscow toward the end of World War II. Led by a cohort of Russian generals, there was a parade of captured German soldiers. As the prisoners approached the city, Russian citizens jeered them. The line of prisoners, some wounded, some without coats, stretched into the distance, hundreds then thousands, trudging through the city. As the line continued the taunts diminished until the crowd was silent. An old woman went forward and held out a crust of bread. A German prisoner took it. Then another woman and another went forward to give food or their scarves and gloves. These were women who had lost sons, fathers, brothers and husbands in the war and now no longer saw an enemy but saw suffering boys and men and so gave what little they had to give.