A blog from World War 2

April 13, 1945

I had just finished eating and was resting in bed when I hear my name being called. I get up and see my factory boss and his sidekick, a cowardly wretch worthy of him. He calls me and says: Tomorrow you have to come to work. I told him the doctor officially gave me days of rest because I don’t feel well. He says that if I don’t come to work, he’ll have me arrested. The time has come for me to flee, I absolutely will not go to work, I am tried of being bossed around like this. I promise myself I have to flee or else I will die of rage. I managed to trick the doctor by rubbing the thermometer until it read 38 °C, I got 13 days of rest but now I’m in a bind because that wretched boss of mine says I must go back to work, whether I’m healthy or sick, so I have no other choice… I must flee!
I hop on the tram and go see my fellow townsmen who work in the same factory, I encourage them to flee with me but they’re all afraid. They fear the police and advise me not to flee because it’s very dangerous, but I’ve made up my mind: my wife and my children are calling me. I must leave, I must flee even at the risk of being shot.

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