A blog from World War 2

April 14, 1945

I woke up and instead of going to work, as my wretched boss ordered me to, I wandered around the city. I already have everything I need to leave: some bread and a few old undergarments. As I walk toward the small station of Ost Bahnhoff, I run into 6 Italians. I ask where they are coming from, some are coming from Berlin, some from Stuttgart, and some from other cities that have been occupied or are about to be occupied. I ask them what time the train for Innsbruck leaves, they tell me it leaves at 5:00.

It’s almost 3:00, I rush home, get my suitcase and hurry back to the station. I get on the train without even buying a ticket. Before heading to the station, I invited my friends to flee with me but nobody wanted to. They advise me to stay in Munich. I rumple my bed and beg them not to say a word. I give this diary to Ciccillo D’Angelo and ask him to bring it back for me. If I were caught with this diary, it would be the end of me. At 5:00 the train leaves. As the train moves away from the city, my heart shrinks, I don’t know if I’ve done the right thing or not, but I’ve already taken the first big step and I have hope that things will go well. At around 1:00 in the morning we arrive in Innsbruck, we wait for daylight there in a semi-demolished house.

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