My mother in 1936. survived the occupation. History of her words. The little girl remembered what happened. As I remembered her stories, now, unfortunately, no one has to ask for details anymore.

The mother remembered that when the war had just begun, the grandmothers-neighbors whispered, saying that the German would come - even if order would be set. The German came. First, all the dogs were shot. If the German saw something in his yard or house that he needed, he simply took it. Not hiding or hiding. Right of the strong. If the hostess tried to object, he could just knock his fist, and could shoot at the spot.
There were more Romanians. They never took anything openly. But they stole godlessly, anything.
These are national characteristics.

They lived in the glory. It was very hungry. Her mother remembered her grandmother picking up the burnt leaves from under the first snow and cooking bread. As at night, the grandmother and other women were rushing through the bombs and shells robbed collegiate field for the remains of potatoes, which they had not yet had time to collect. There was a German patrol along the field. When they approached, they had to die and merge with the earth. The Germans used the light. You could also turn the machine. In any case.

When it became very bad, the younger sister of the grandmother came for them from Kramatorsk to pick them up. It seemed easier there. On their way back, two young girls were still in fact (the grandmother was 1914). And two children (the mother and her younger brother) took the German patrol. taken to command. Fortunately, the German translator was Polish. My grandmother spoke Polish. Pretending to be Poles. How could they explain where they are going and why? The translator whispered about something with a German officer.
Together with others, they were pushed into the body of a truck and taken somewhere under the convoy. I thought it was shooting. They went far. The truck stopped. They were planted. told to go. Her mother remembered her grandmother holding her hand and whispering, “Just don’t run. Just don’t run.” I thought they would shoot in the back. But the truck left. Those left in it were shot as partisans and their accomplices.

And the collaboration really did. From somewhere came our leaflets with information. The grandmother turned them, tied them, wore a coat on top, and the five-year-old child walked around the houses, carrying these leaflets. It is well understood that if they get caught, they will shoot the whole family.

Another mother recalled with gratitude the fat cook Otto from the officer dining room at the German airfield. The fat cook Otto took the children to work and clean the potatoes. For this, from the remains of the officer’s lunch, each of them poured a bowl of soup. It should have been on the spot, with the cook. Otto made sure that the elderly did not take food from the younger ones. If after the first round there was something left in the boiler, Otto poured the supplement to the smallest. There were “tricks” who quickly ate their portion and tried to get in line again, as if they had not yet been poured. Otto immediately pulled them out of the line.
Otto also allowed the children to take potatoes home. The whole family survived these crashes.