QUOTE : Georg.” Deda spoke softly. “Georg.” “Yes, Papochka?” Tatiana’s father said respectfully. No one loved Deda more than Papa, not even Tatiana. “Georg. You cannot keep the boy out of conscription. You can’t.” “Of course I can. He is only seventeen.” Deda shook his neat gray head. “Exactly—seventeen. They’ll take him.” The look of trapped fear slid across Papa’s face and was gone. “They won’t take him, Papochka,” said Papa hoarsely. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” He was clearly unable to say what he felt: everyone stop talking and let me save my son the only way I know how. Deda sat back against the sofa cushions.