Tante Max tells the story best. Each night for weeks, air raid sirens had been going off forcing the neighborhood into bomb shelters. But this night, word came to evacuate. People piled onto the train, clinging to whatever they could from their former, orderly lives. During the trip they were repeatedly forced to flee from the train into nearby ravines whenever bombers passed overhead. By morning they had made it safely into the countryside.
After their night of terror they knocked on a farmer’s door. The burly, gruff man agreed to give them shelter in exchange for their work on the farm, and he set them to work immediately.
For two years my family lived in a one room shed at the back of the farmer’s property, while World War II raged throughout
The war had destroyed their previous lives, their homes, their business. But slowly they recreated themselves in a different part of
My mom flies to