The boy shrugged his shoulders, grumbled something and started pulling the girl’s warm boots off. He himself was wearing ankle shoes. I tried interfering and told him he was a bloody son of a bitch, that she was still alive! ‘So what, uncle,’ he replied, ‘She will die in half an hour anyway, and my feet are cold.’ I was so lost that, when I got back to my senses, the girl was already dead.

http://www.aeonmagazine.com/living-together/polina-aronson-siege-of-leningrad/