In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

WESTERBORK After the first few days, I forget that we've ever lived anywhere else. It is so strange here. There are too many people and a thousand thousand kids. The soldiers with guns slung across their backs are called marachausee and they are Dutch. They talk differently from us, though. There are Germans, too. They walk around holding onto the leashes of big German Shepherd dogs. Every day transports come, and often the long lines of people have to stand for hours while the Germans scream at them. If someone tries to escape they turn the dogs loose on them. Or they send them to a place called Vught . . . a terrible place.1 Escape. . . . We are prisoners now. I understand that. A small group of children are playing ball. My Papa acts as our teacher. The ball rolls from the field onto the frozen canal. On the far side of the canal is barbed-wire fencing. A soldier holds his gun and watches us. Now, my Papa has to ask permission to get the ball. Almost frozen with fear I watch as Papa gets the ball, climbs back from the canal, and continues to play with us. Westerbork is big and there are many wooden barracks. Our barrack is filled with bunks, end to end. Between the bunks is a wooden table with benches. This is where we eat and where we live. In the night I have to go to the toilet. It is at the end of the barrack and a long way from our bunks. When I find it, it is disgusting. I can't go there! Mama tied a potty to the rucksack and at night I use that. I'm a big girl, not a baby like Daantje, but x Vught was another camp in Holland. It served as an overflow camp for Jews and a permanent concentration camp for others. It had a special women's section. 37 CHAPTER 2 at night it's better to use the potty. One night I awaken crying from a bad dream. Swiftly, Mama lights a candle, I reach over to her and my thick hair catches fire! On the side where my hair is held by a barrette, the bunched hair catches. With a cry Mama slaps the fire out, almost as quickly as it caught. I have peed in the bed; my heart races. In the morning I realize that one of my eyebrows is singed as well as one side of my hair. Every night lists are read out loud. I wake up and hear families move out into the night. It seems that no one is here alone but maybe that's only because so many people say good-bye or cry or murmur things to those left behind. It is bad to be on the list. During the day, I begin to go outside and join other kids to run around, explore, and play. I play with a group of boys and girls. We are to watch for an enemy and alternately hunt them or hide from them. I can't figure out who this enemy is! Sometimes I feel the danger but other times it's fun to feel the excitement from some of the older boys and girls. One afternoon I come back to our barrack late. Mama and Papa have eaten and are annoyed, waiting for me. I tell them I have been with my "group" and feel surprised that they don't understand how important that is. After I eat and sit with Mama and Papa, I suddenly realize that I don't understand whether we are playing some game or whether the other group is really an enemy group. I feel confused because I can't think it out. One minute I know absolutely it is real and the next minute I think we are playing. Daantje and I get measles and we have to be quarantined. That means we have to go to the hospital. This is another long barrack building but it's lighter than the regular barrack. There are bunks on each long wall and a big space in the middle. I can't see Daantje though he's in the same room because he is at the very end and I'm in the middle. Mama and Papa come to see me. They stand outside and wave. My window has grating on it and they are far away. It's hard to see...

Share