The Secret Holocaust Diaries: The Untold Story of Nonna Bannister
August 7, 1942 -- Konstantinowka, Ukraine
It is fourteen hours and fifteen minutes (2:15 p.m.), and we were just loaded on the train! My God -- this is not what we thought it would be like to make this journey! We are packed like sardines in a can into the cattle cars of the train. The German soldiers with their rifles are with us and Mama is scared. (I know that she is.) Mama still thinks we can get off the train and leave our luggage behind and walk home. There is Grandmother standing about twenty feet away, looking so shocked and in dismay -- she is crying -- with the tears running down her face as she waves good-bye. Somehow, I know that we will never see her again.
As the train starts to move, Mama and I just look at Grandmother until she is out of sight. At the hour of 1600 (4:00 p.m.) everyone inside our car is very quiet and nobody is talking. Some are crying quietly -- and I am glad that I have my diary and two pencils.
I got into the corner as for as I could so I would have some room to write. Now the door of our car is open, but I can hear some noises from the top of the roof. The German soldiers had positioned themselves on the top of the train, and they are talking and singing -- I think they are drinking -- they sound drunk to me.
It is almost midnight -- the moon is so full -- and we are crossing large fields. I need to get closer to the door so I can get some fresh air. As I approach the open door, I see a pair of legs in black boots dangling right above the door -- then this face leans down and the soldier yells, "Hi, pretty one!" and I get away from the door very quickly. Mama pulls me closer to herself, and I think I am getting sleepy.
August 8, 1942
When we wake up, we can look into the horizon and see the sun rising from the edges of the biggest fields that I have ever seen -- it is a beautiful sunrise! Where are we? How close are we to Kiev? The train is slowing down, and it looks as though we will stop moving.