Papa tried to explain that this was not the flag of the Red Army,
but they wanted to hear nothing. With brutal kicking they drove
my husband outside and forced him to carry the flag high above
his head. I kissed my dear husband and wanted to hold him, but
was brushed aside roughly, and out they went with him. I followed,
of course. Outside the door a long column was waiting, he was
placed at the head of them all; he walked calmly with uplifted
head and turned around a last time, waving good-bye to me.
That was the last I saw of him, he has never come back that way.
Chosen People Ministries . chosenpeople.com | 29
“WHERE IS DADDY?”
The hours that followed now grew terrible and without end. The
children kept asking about the father, and were wondering why
he did not come down into the cellar to us when the shooting
was too bad and seemed incessant. They had an inkling that
something had transpired and wanted to know what it was.
Finally I told them Daddy was in town, but he would be back
before evening. In my anxiety for him I ran to the hospital to beg
Sister Olga to look for him at the Police Station. In her nurse’s
uniform it would have been easier for her to get through; but she
had so much work and could not be spared. At the same time
the bombarding started all over. The children could not be left
alone. On my way back I saw some more of the endless columns
of those poor people, herded together, whose guilt was that they
had been born Jews, and who once again were made to serve
as scapegoats. With indescribable heaviness of heart I returned
home again. Nobody was thinking of food. The children were
silent and looked at me with questions and wonder in their eyes.
But in the afternoon, it got active in our shelter; several people
came with fear-filled faces and asked to be allowed to hide in
our place. An elderly lady had a dear little girl of about six at the
hand and told us that the entire family of that child had been
shot. Naturally, I could not refuse these destitute people. We
gave them food and put up emergency cots in the cellar alleys.
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