Eyewitness Post

This war is not going to be won easily. The men are coming home wounded beyond repair, or not coming home at all. What was once a place of celebration is now a place of mourning, hard work, explosions by Germans, and food shortages. Our children are hungry. Our men have gone and we are here without help to raise the children and make a living. My family is luckier than most, but we are not as lucky as some. Our kitchen cupboards have grown cobwebs, and our meals are nothing impressive.

My children and I must walk most places for fuel is being rationed as well. The other day my daughter got sick with a fever, yet we could not drive to the doctor. The poor child had to walk! Oh it was a horrible sight seeing my once healthy daughter struggling to stay upright. I wish my man would just come home. Then everything would be somehow easier and back to normal, but no. More and more men are leaving, being shot at, and more and more women are weeping for their husbands.

I am writing this by candlelight due to the blackout. The Germans are attacking my family and my friends yet the most I can do is sit here and write, wishing it will make the bombing stop. The noise is the least of my memory. I just remember the light and brightness when, on December 16th, of this year 1914, our home was nearly destroyed. It was a cloudy night when the German Navy came, yet the bombs lit up the sky like the morning sun can only do. My children crying and screaming for me, and I, screaming for my husband and family friends, ran out to the shelter.

My friend described it perfectly the other day. She said, "The whole street seemed to explode. There was smoke and flames all over, but the worst of it was the screams of the dying and the wounded and mothers looking frantically for their kids."

My family is uprooted and living in my husband's parents home, relying on them for our food and clothing until the war is over. If it will ever be over. If God has mercy on us, it will end soon.