Thursday, 3 February 1944
Everybody is thinking about the Allied invasion! What will happen
to us if the British invade Holland. The Germans say that they will let
the water from the sea into the country.*
4
Each person has his or her own idea.
`We'll have to walk through the water. `Don't be silly! We'll have to try
and swim. We'll swim underwater, and then nobody will see that we
are Jews!'
`Oh, rubbish! Can ladies swim when rats are biting their legs?' Next
question: when the invasion comes, will the authorities make
everybody leave Amsterdam?
`We'll leave the city with all the other people.' `No, we mustn't go
outside! The Germans will send everyone to die in Germany'
`All right, we'll stay here. Let's ask Miep for some extra blankets. And
some more food. We've got about sixty-five pounds of beans at the
moment, and fifty tins of vegetables.'
`What's in the stores, Mother? Tell us.'
4
* Holland is very flat, and the water is carefully controlled. Once, most of the land was
naturally under water.
`Ten tins of fish, forty tins of milk, three bottles of oil, four jars of butter,
four jars of fruit, twenty jars of tomatoes and nine pounds of rice.
That's it.'
Our stores are still quite good. But we do have to feed the people in
the office too.
`Let's make little bags for our money that we can hide in our clothes if
we have to leave here.'
And so it goes on all day. That's all I hear — invasion, invasion, only
invasion. I'm very calm about it. I don't care now whether I live or die.
I'll just keep on with my work and hope that everything will be all
right in the end.
Wednesday, 16 February 1944
I had to go up into the attic, through Peter's room, to get some potatoes
today. When I was going up the stairs, he stood up and took my arm.
`I'll go,' he said. But I told him that it wasn't necessary.
On my way down, I asked him, `What are you studying?'
Edith Frank, May 1935.
`French,' he replied. I asked if I could look at his lessons. Then I sat
down on the sofa, and began to explain some French to him. We went
on talking pleasantly about other things too, and finally he spoke about
the picture of film actors
on his wall. It's the one
that I gave him, and he
likes it very much.
`Shall I give you a few
more?' I asked him.
`No,' he replied. `I prefer
this one. I look at it every
day, and all the people in
it have become my
friends.'
Peter needs love, too.
That's why he holds
Mouschi the cat so
tightly.
Friday, 18 February
1944
Whenever I go upstairs, it's always so that I can see him. I have
something to look forward to now, and life here is better.
Mother doesn't like me going up there. She says that I should leave Peter
alone. She always looks at me oddly when I go to Peter's room. When I
come down again, she asks me where I've been.
Peter van Daan.
Wednesday, 23 February 1944
The weather is wonderful, and I feel better. Almost every morning, I
go up to the attic for some fresh air — we can open the window there
and look out. This morning, Peter was up there too. He came over to
where I was sitting on the floor. The two of us looked out at the blue sky,
at the tree and at the birds flying through the air. It was so beautiful that
we couldn't speak. We stayed like this for a long time.
`How can I be sad when there is the sun and the sky?' I asked myself.
God wants us to be happy and to see the beauty of this world. It will help
us in all our troubles.
Sunday, 27 February 1944
I think about Peter from morning to night. I dream about him, and see his
face when I wake up.
I feel that Peter and I are not
really very different, although
we seem to be on the
outside. We both have
strong feelings inside, which
are difficult to control. Neither
of us feels that we have a
mother. His mother isn't
serious; mine is interested in
my life but she doesn't
understand me at all.
Saturday, 4 March 1944
This was the first Saturday for months that wasn't boring. It was
because of Peter. I joined the French lesson that Father was giving
him. I was in heaven, sitting on Father's chair, close to Peter.
Afterwards, we talked together until lunch-time. Whenever I leave the
room after a meal, Peter says — if no one else can hear him —
`Goodbye, Anne — I'll see you later.'
Oh, I'm so happy! Perhaps he does love me! And it's so good to talk
to him.
The Diary of a Young Girl (English Novel complete)
Re: The Diary of a Young Girl
Friday, 10 March 1944
We have more troubles now. Miep is ill, and Mr Kleiman is still away
from work with his bad stomach. Bep is trying to do everything on
her own.
Last night, somebody knocked on the wall next door while we were
having dinner. We were very nervous all evening.
The police have taken Mr M. away. He's the man who sells us potatoes,
butter and jam on the black market. It's terrible for him and also for us.
He has five young children and another baby coming.
Tuesday, 14 March 1944
I'm sitting at the van Daan's table with a handkerchief over my mouth.
Why? Let me start at the beginning. They've arrested the people who
bring our ration tickets, so we don't have any fats or oils. Miep and Mr
Kleiman are ill again, and Bep can't go shopping for us. The food is
awful. Lunch today is potatoes and some very old vegetables out of
bottles. They smell terrible, which is why I have the handkerchief!
We've got to eat them too
— I feel sick when I think about it! Half the potatoes have gone bad,
and we have to throw them away
If life here was pleasant, the food would not matter so much. But it's
the fourth year of the war, and we are all in bad moods.
Saturday, 18 March 1944
I've written so much about myself and my feelings, so why
shouldn't I write about sex, too? Parents are very strange about sex.
They should tell their sons and daughters everything at the age of
twelve. But instead of that, they send them out of the room when
anyone talks about sex, and the children have to try and find out
everything by themselves. Then, later, the parents think that the
children already know it all, but usually they don't!
Soon after I was eleven, they told me about periods. But I didn't
know where the blood came from, or what it was for. When I was
twelve and a half, one of my friends told me some more. She told me
what a man and a woman do together. Well, I had already guessed! I
was quite proud of myself! She also told me that babies don't come out
of their mothers' stomachs. Where everything goes in is where the
baby comes out?
Children hear about sex in bits and pieces, and that isn't right.
Although it's Saturday, I'm not bored! I've been up in the attic with
Peter. I sat there dreaming with my eyes closed, and it was wonderful.
Sunday, 19 March 1944
Yesterday was a very important day for me. At five o'clock I put on the
potatoes to cook, and Mother gave me some sausage to give to
Peter. But he wouldn't take the sausage, and I thought it was because
of the awful quarrel that we had recently. Suddenly, my eyes filled
with tears. I took the plate back to Mother and went into the toilet to
cry.
I decided to talk to Peter. After the washing up, I went to his room. We
stood by the open window as it grew dark — it's much easier to talk like
that. He didn't refuse the sausage because of our argument, but
because he didn't want to look too greedy! Then we talked about so
much together. It felt good; it was the most wonderful evening I've
ever had in the Annexe.
We talked about our parents, and our problems with them. I told him
how I cry in bed. He said that he goes up to the attic when he is
angry. We talked all about our feelings. And it was just as good as I
imagined!
We talked about the year 1942, and how different we are now. He
thought that I was a noisy, annoying girl at first! I thought that he was
uninteresting! I told him that we are like two sides of the same coin. I
am noisy and he is quiet. But also that I too like peace and quiet. I said
that I understand why he goes away to be alone sometimes. And that
I'd like to help him when he argues with his parents.
`But you always help me!' he said.
`How?' I asked, very surprised.
`Because you're always cheerful.'
That was the nicest thing he said all evening. He must love me now as
a friend, and I'm so grateful and happy for that.
We have more troubles now. Miep is ill, and Mr Kleiman is still away
from work with his bad stomach. Bep is trying to do everything on
her own.
Last night, somebody knocked on the wall next door while we were
having dinner. We were very nervous all evening.
The police have taken Mr M. away. He's the man who sells us potatoes,
butter and jam on the black market. It's terrible for him and also for us.
He has five young children and another baby coming.
Tuesday, 14 March 1944
I'm sitting at the van Daan's table with a handkerchief over my mouth.
Why? Let me start at the beginning. They've arrested the people who
bring our ration tickets, so we don't have any fats or oils. Miep and Mr
Kleiman are ill again, and Bep can't go shopping for us. The food is
awful. Lunch today is potatoes and some very old vegetables out of
bottles. They smell terrible, which is why I have the handkerchief!
We've got to eat them too
— I feel sick when I think about it! Half the potatoes have gone bad,
and we have to throw them away
If life here was pleasant, the food would not matter so much. But it's
the fourth year of the war, and we are all in bad moods.
Saturday, 18 March 1944
I've written so much about myself and my feelings, so why
shouldn't I write about sex, too? Parents are very strange about sex.
They should tell their sons and daughters everything at the age of
twelve. But instead of that, they send them out of the room when
anyone talks about sex, and the children have to try and find out
everything by themselves. Then, later, the parents think that the
children already know it all, but usually they don't!
Soon after I was eleven, they told me about periods. But I didn't
know where the blood came from, or what it was for. When I was
twelve and a half, one of my friends told me some more. She told me
what a man and a woman do together. Well, I had already guessed! I
was quite proud of myself! She also told me that babies don't come out
of their mothers' stomachs. Where everything goes in is where the
baby comes out?
Children hear about sex in bits and pieces, and that isn't right.
Although it's Saturday, I'm not bored! I've been up in the attic with
Peter. I sat there dreaming with my eyes closed, and it was wonderful.
Sunday, 19 March 1944
Yesterday was a very important day for me. At five o'clock I put on the
potatoes to cook, and Mother gave me some sausage to give to
Peter. But he wouldn't take the sausage, and I thought it was because
of the awful quarrel that we had recently. Suddenly, my eyes filled
with tears. I took the plate back to Mother and went into the toilet to
cry.
I decided to talk to Peter. After the washing up, I went to his room. We
stood by the open window as it grew dark — it's much easier to talk like
that. He didn't refuse the sausage because of our argument, but
because he didn't want to look too greedy! Then we talked about so
much together. It felt good; it was the most wonderful evening I've
ever had in the Annexe.
We talked about our parents, and our problems with them. I told him
how I cry in bed. He said that he goes up to the attic when he is
angry. We talked all about our feelings. And it was just as good as I
imagined!
We talked about the year 1942, and how different we are now. He
thought that I was a noisy, annoying girl at first! I thought that he was
uninteresting! I told him that we are like two sides of the same coin. I
am noisy and he is quiet. But also that I too like peace and quiet. I said
that I understand why he goes away to be alone sometimes. And that
I'd like to help him when he argues with his parents.
`But you always help me!' he said.
`How?' I asked, very surprised.
`Because you're always cheerful.'
That was the nicest thing he said all evening. He must love me now as
a friend, and I'm so grateful and happy for that.
Re: The Diary of a Young Girl
Wednesday, 22 March 1944
Things are getting more and more wonderful here. I think that true
love may be happening in the Annexe! Everyone has made jokes
about us, saying that we might get married if we are all in the Annexe
long enough. Perhaps those jokes aren't so silly at all.
I'm sure now that Peter loves me too, but I don't know in what way.
Does he just want a good friend, or a girlfriend, or a sister? Oh, when I
think about Saturday night — about our words, our voices — I feel
very satisfied with myself. For the first time, I don't want to change
anything that I said.
Thursday, 23 March 1944
Our black market ration book men are out of prison now, so things
are better here.
Yesterday a plane crashed quite near us, on top of a school. Luckily,
there were no children inside. There was a small fire, and two people
were killed. The men inside the plane were able to get out in time,
but the Germans shot them immediately. Local people were so angry
— it was a cowardly, horrible thing to do! We — the ladies of the
Annexe — were very frightened. I hate the sound of guns.
Tuesday, 28 March 1944
Mother is trying to stop me going up to Peter's room. She says that
Mrs van Daan is jealous. Perhaps she's jealous too. Father is happy
about it; he's glad that we're friends. Mother thinks that Peter has
fallen in love with me. I wish that it was true.
I do want to stay friends with Peter. We have our difficulties, but we
have to fight against them, and in the end they will make everything
more beautiful. When he rests his head on his arms and closes his
eyes, he's still a child. When he plays with Mouschi, his cat, he's loving.
When he carries the heavy potatoes for us, he's strong. When he
watches the air raids, or walks through the dark house to look for
burglars, he's brave. And when he doesn't know quite how to behave,
he's sweet!
Wednesday, 29 March 1944
Mr Bolkestein, from the Government, was speaking on the Dutch
broadcast from London. He said that after the war they wanted
everybody's diaries and letters about the war — they would be an
interesting part of history. I might be able to write a book called The
Secret Annexe. People would think that it was a detective story! But
seriously, ten years after the war people would find it very amusing to
read about us, the Jews who were hiding. How we lived, what we ate,
what we talked about. But although I tell you a lot about our lives, you
still know very little about us. For example, how frightened the women
are during the air raids. Last Sunday, 350 British planes dropped their
bombs on Ijmuiden, so that the houses shook like grass in the wind.
Or about the awful illnesses that people are catching here.
You know nothing about all this, and it would take me all day to
describe it. People have to wait in line for vegetables and all kinds of
other things too. Doctors can't visit the sick, since their cars and bikes
are stolen at once. There are so many thieves around that you ask
what has happened to the Dutch — why are they stealing so much?
Little children, eight- and eleven-year olds, break the windows of
people's homes and steal whatever they can. People don't dare to
leave the house even for five minutes, because everything may be
gone when they return. The public phones are stolen, and all the parts
of the electric clocks on the street corners too.
Everyone's hungry. A week's food ration doesn't even last two days.
We're waiting for the Allied invasion, but it's so long coming. The
men are sent to Germany, the children are ill or hungry, and everyone
wears old clothes and broken shoes. It's too expensive to repair shoes,
and if you give your shoes to a shoemender, you may never see
them again.
Friday, 31 March 1944
Just imagine, it's still cold, but most people have had nothing to put on
their fires for a month now. It sounds awful, doesn't it? But we are
hopeful about the Russians, who are doing well. They've reached
Poland now, and the Prut River in Romania. They're close to Odessa
too.
The German Army has invaded Hungary. A million Jews still live
there; there is no hope for them now.
Nothing special is happening here. Today is Mr van Daan's birthday.
He received several presents and a cake. The cake wasn't perfect,
because we can't buy the right things to make it with, but it tasted
wonderful anyway!
People are not saying so much about Peter and me now. We're very
good friends. We spend a lot of time together, and we talk about
263 Prinsengracht, Amsterdam. Front view.
anything and everything. I couldn't talk to other boys like this. We
even talked about periods. He thinks that women are strong enough
to lose the blood, and that I am too. I wonder why he thinks that?
My life here is better now, much better. God has not left me, and He
never will.
Things are getting more and more wonderful here. I think that true
love may be happening in the Annexe! Everyone has made jokes
about us, saying that we might get married if we are all in the Annexe
long enough. Perhaps those jokes aren't so silly at all.
I'm sure now that Peter loves me too, but I don't know in what way.
Does he just want a good friend, or a girlfriend, or a sister? Oh, when I
think about Saturday night — about our words, our voices — I feel
very satisfied with myself. For the first time, I don't want to change
anything that I said.
Thursday, 23 March 1944
Our black market ration book men are out of prison now, so things
are better here.
Yesterday a plane crashed quite near us, on top of a school. Luckily,
there were no children inside. There was a small fire, and two people
were killed. The men inside the plane were able to get out in time,
but the Germans shot them immediately. Local people were so angry
— it was a cowardly, horrible thing to do! We — the ladies of the
Annexe — were very frightened. I hate the sound of guns.
Tuesday, 28 March 1944
Mother is trying to stop me going up to Peter's room. She says that
Mrs van Daan is jealous. Perhaps she's jealous too. Father is happy
about it; he's glad that we're friends. Mother thinks that Peter has
fallen in love with me. I wish that it was true.
I do want to stay friends with Peter. We have our difficulties, but we
have to fight against them, and in the end they will make everything
more beautiful. When he rests his head on his arms and closes his
eyes, he's still a child. When he plays with Mouschi, his cat, he's loving.
When he carries the heavy potatoes for us, he's strong. When he
watches the air raids, or walks through the dark house to look for
burglars, he's brave. And when he doesn't know quite how to behave,
he's sweet!
Wednesday, 29 March 1944
Mr Bolkestein, from the Government, was speaking on the Dutch
broadcast from London. He said that after the war they wanted
everybody's diaries and letters about the war — they would be an
interesting part of history. I might be able to write a book called The
Secret Annexe. People would think that it was a detective story! But
seriously, ten years after the war people would find it very amusing to
read about us, the Jews who were hiding. How we lived, what we ate,
what we talked about. But although I tell you a lot about our lives, you
still know very little about us. For example, how frightened the women
are during the air raids. Last Sunday, 350 British planes dropped their
bombs on Ijmuiden, so that the houses shook like grass in the wind.
Or about the awful illnesses that people are catching here.
You know nothing about all this, and it would take me all day to
describe it. People have to wait in line for vegetables and all kinds of
other things too. Doctors can't visit the sick, since their cars and bikes
are stolen at once. There are so many thieves around that you ask
what has happened to the Dutch — why are they stealing so much?
Little children, eight- and eleven-year olds, break the windows of
people's homes and steal whatever they can. People don't dare to
leave the house even for five minutes, because everything may be
gone when they return. The public phones are stolen, and all the parts
of the electric clocks on the street corners too.
Everyone's hungry. A week's food ration doesn't even last two days.
We're waiting for the Allied invasion, but it's so long coming. The
men are sent to Germany, the children are ill or hungry, and everyone
wears old clothes and broken shoes. It's too expensive to repair shoes,
and if you give your shoes to a shoemender, you may never see
them again.
Friday, 31 March 1944
Just imagine, it's still cold, but most people have had nothing to put on
their fires for a month now. It sounds awful, doesn't it? But we are
hopeful about the Russians, who are doing well. They've reached
Poland now, and the Prut River in Romania. They're close to Odessa
too.
The German Army has invaded Hungary. A million Jews still live
there; there is no hope for them now.
Nothing special is happening here. Today is Mr van Daan's birthday.
He received several presents and a cake. The cake wasn't perfect,
because we can't buy the right things to make it with, but it tasted
wonderful anyway!
People are not saying so much about Peter and me now. We're very
good friends. We spend a lot of time together, and we talk about
263 Prinsengracht, Amsterdam. Front view.
anything and everything. I couldn't talk to other boys like this. We
even talked about periods. He thinks that women are strong enough
to lose the blood, and that I am too. I wonder why he thinks that?
My life here is better now, much better. God has not left me, and He
never will.