The Autobiography of Anne Frank
Autobiography of Anne Frank
I was born on the 12th June 1929 in the German city of Frankfurt. I felt German and then Jewish, my friends were a mixed bunch and religion never really came into my life. For me and my sister Margot who was five years older than me it was happy childhood until the Nazis took power.
Overnight it all changed. Many of our friends shunned us, life became colder and less fun. There were demonstrations all the time with young children leading them in Hitler Youth uniforms, holding Nazi flags. “Juden Raus!” they would shout and much worse. Even our old friends were there, they wouldn’t look at us, maybe they were ashamed or were too scared to let on that they knew us. I was so happy when father told us we were leaving. Margot was scared and did not want to go. “There is no life for us here”, mother told her, “there is no more life for us here”.
We ended up in Amsterdam in the Netherlands. It was such a beautiful city, so tidy and clean and there were canals which we could travel on. Most of all the people were nice. You could see in their eyes at time a sense of pity, like they knew what would happen. We thought we were free. Even in 1939 when Hitler invaded Poland we all thought the French and the English would stop them. But they did nothing and as the months passed we began to fear the worst. We listened to the radio all the time, any piece of news was devoured, we lived on rumours.
But the Nazis got closer and eventually they were walking down Merwedeplein (the street where we lived). We told father we must run away again but he said there was nowhere to go. They took everything away from us and pushed to the edge of society. We were pariahs again, ignored, bullied, spat on, but we carried on and hoped for salvation from the Americans or even the Russians.
Father for many months kept telling us that he was making arrangements. We were so curious but dare not ask questions, like we wanted to know but were scared to know. I remember
I was born on the 12th June 1929 in the German city of Frankfurt. I felt German and then Jewish, my friends were a mixed bunch and religion never really came into my life. For me and my sister Margot who was five years older than me it was happy childhood until the Nazis took power.
Overnight it all changed. Many of our friends shunned us, life became colder and less fun. There were demonstrations all the time with young children leading them in Hitler Youth uniforms, holding Nazi flags. “Juden Raus!” they would shout and much worse. Even our old friends were there, they wouldn’t look at us, maybe they were ashamed or were too scared to let on that they knew us. I was so happy when father told us we were leaving. Margot was scared and did not want to go. “There is no life for us here”, mother told her, “there is no more life for us here”.
We ended up in Amsterdam in the Netherlands. It was such a beautiful city, so tidy and clean and there were canals which we could travel on. Most of all the people were nice. You could see in their eyes at time a sense of pity, like they knew what would happen. We thought we were free. Even in 1939 when Hitler invaded Poland we all thought the French and the English would stop them. But they did nothing and as the months passed we began to fear the worst. We listened to the radio all the time, any piece of news was devoured, we lived on rumours.
But the Nazis got closer and eventually they were walking down Merwedeplein (the street where we lived). We told father we must run away again but he said there was nowhere to go. They took everything away from us and pushed to the edge of society. We were pariahs again, ignored, bullied, spat on, but we carried on and hoped for salvation from the Americans or even the Russians.
Father for many months kept telling us that he was making arrangements. We were so curious but dare not ask questions, like we wanted to know but were scared to know. I remember