It was 1941 when Germany struck Poland. I was thirteen, practically fourteen. Donia was fifteen. I was Jewish. Donia was a Polish Catholic. The ensuing three-year German occupation and its aftermath brought torment and murder to us-to me, to Donia, and to the rest of the Jews and even some of the non-Jews who lived with us in our apartment house in the medieval city of Lwow. That period was indescribably sordid and cruel for us, yet love was also our portion.
From its opening pages, Mark Strauss pulls us into the drama of World War II Poland as witnessed by the young Jewish boy, Edek...
It was 1941 when Germany struck Poland. I was thirteen, practically fourteen. Donia was fifteen. I was Jewish. Donia was a Polish Catholic. The ensuin...
