Someone wrote a novel about my toots.
«No one who resists, as Wilkes notes in his afterword, leaves a lasting mark. A postal carrier who quits the Nazi Party escapes punishment—but her act of defiance makes no meaningful difference. A low-level con artist who is wrongly accused of distributing the postcards will not concede his guilt; he ends up dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound after being given the choice between that and drowning. The members of a small, rebellious cell who begin the novel with grand plans to take down the government end up ineffective and disbanded. And like their real-life counterparts, Otto and Anna are caught, convicted in a sham trial, and sentenced to death by guillotine; their postcards also have none of their intended impact.»
Here, Read This 