My father was a musician in Stalingrad. During the German occupation, the sound of his violin filled the air with magnificent music – Korsakov, Stasov – many of the great nationalist composers. To my countrymen, it was a symbol of hope. To the Germans, it was a symbol of defiance. Even now, his music still haunts me. The Nazis slit his throat while he slept. Collaborating with any Nazi is a betrayal, a betrayal against all of Mother Russia. Dragovich and Kravchenko were not troubled by such matters. They looked only to advance towards their own interests and agendas...