b. Uzhorod, Czechoslovakia (became Ungvár, Hungary), 1920
It was a cold, rainy night. Hungry and exhausted, we stood in line for hours while the Germans counted and recounted us, checking whether the number matched the number they counted when we left in the morning.
Finally we started back to camp. While stopping at a railroad crossing, I saw a German soldier with a gun over his shoulder approaching me. He was tall and looked well-fed, like all of them.
I wasn't scared. My mind just wasn't functioning.
Suddenly he slipped something into my hand. Surreptitiously, I glanced down at the package. It was a piece of bread.
Was I picked by chance that night? Did he do it every night, randomly choosing someone? One thing I do know—that piece of bread boosted my morale and strengthened my will to live. Despite all the inhumanity, there were human beings left in the world.