Dear Annie

A series of letters written during the most difficult times in World War II

March 7, 1940

Dear Annie,

The war draws ever closer to my hiding place. Father has already bid farwell to Mother and I to join the ranks. He told us he’d make it back, but I’m not so sure. I can understand what they’re telling us on the radio about what’s going on in the war. Mother doesn’t like it very much when I talk about it. We’ve recently stopped listening all together.

If you care to know, I’m doing just fine. Although, I’m not sure about mummy. She hasn’t finished a meal in weeks, and I know she’s hiding some alcohol in the china cabinet. She would never mention any of this to me. Mummy wants to keep me ignorant, and in that way, keep me safe. I wish she felt safe to talk to me. Still, I can understand why she doesn’t want to.

You see, Annie, mummy doesn’t want me to know what’s going on outside. She thinks if I knew what was going on outside, I’d just fall apart because I would know where you’ve gone. Too bad I already know. Too bad she was right.

I can’t tell you where my father’s gone, but you probably’ll already know by the time you get my letter. If they even let you have mail. I tried to talk my father out of going, I really did, but you know how he is. Mother told me to bite my tongue before my father hit some sense into me. You know what I told her? I told her that that’s never done her any good. She told me to go to my room. 

Father left the following morning when I was asleep. What a load of good I did.

It makes me sick to my stomach knowing what they’re doing to you. You know I tried my hardest to keep you safe. We were going to rule the world, Annie. I pray every night for your safe return home. What a load of good that did.

Please believe me when I say I want you home safe, but I know if you come home, I will never get to see my father again. Those Americans wouldn’t spare him just how those Germans won’t spare you. I need you to stay strong, for me. Even if we have stopped listening to the radio, I know what they’re doing to you.

I read that book you told me to read. The Great Gatsby. Daisy reminded me of you. She had a beautiful elegance about her that politefully hid her crazed need to do something wrong. The way she took Gatsby heart just as you took mine. The way she looked at the world like it was such a wonderfully sad place. The way she deserved so much more than what she got.

When I read it, all I could think about was the way things used to be. Before the war when we were only kids. The way we used to sneak kisses in the hallway when no one was looking. The way we used to hold hands under the table at lunch because no one could find out about us. The first time we told anyone, and mummy was so happy because she knew about it for so long, but she wanted to hear it from me.

I try to only remember the good parts because it’s no use wasting my time over unfair the world really is.

I want you to know that I still love you, and I always will. I want you to know that I truly believe the world will be different one day. I don’t understand how anyone can keep their head in a situation like this, but I know you’ve found a way to see something good. Even where you are.

Maybe it’s that you finally know there are others like us. Maybe it’s that you finally got to visit Poland like you always wanted to. Maybe it’s that you know I’m safe. Maybe it’s something entirely your own that I would never be able to see or understand because you could always see things I couldn’t. You could look at someone and find a beautiful truth in them. That’s another reason why I love you.

I need you to stay strong for me. I need you to remember to keep yourself out of trouble, if you can. I need you to come back home.

And above all, I need you to do a load of good for me.

Love Always, 

Samantha

September 14, 1943

Dear Annie,

My father came home. Hitler sent him over in such a lovely casket. He was still wearing him uniform. When mother saw him, she immediately ripped off that stupid symbol they all wear and tore it to bits. She told me that it wasn’t my father’s fault he was fighting for the NAZI’s. She said it was because a man made a promise to us, and my father was just keeping up him end of the bargain. Mother told me that my father was good man who ended up in a bad situation. I told her that being a good man hadn’t done him a load of good, now had it.

At night, I hear her cry, clutching that stupid piece of fabric because it’s all she has left of him. There’s no way to describe how diffucult it is to watch your own mother fall apart, knowing there is no one in this entire world capable of puting her back together again. 

I suppose that’s why she was always so sad around me.

We started listening to the radio again. There hasn’t been much news about the camps they sent you to. I’m hoping the only reason you haven’t returned my letter is because they won’t let you recieve mail.

I haven’t read much lately. Just the papers, to see if there was any news about you. I know it’s worthless to try to find anything about your camp, but I always see so much news about the Jews, I get my hopes up. What a load of good that is.

I’ve realized over these past years that hope is the only holding me together. If you took away that, I would have nothing left to live for. I hope for you to come home. I hope for my mother to get better. I hope for the end of this war. Most people, I think, are in the same position I am. Forever hoping for things to get better. We’ll see if they ever do.

I hope you’re not one of those people, Annie. I hope you can live your life because it’s already good. I hope you don’t need something to keep you going. You can do that all on your own. Because living how I live and how my mother lives and how countless others do is just sad. It’s a waste of a lifetime to surround yourself in hope and forget to do things. 

I hope I’ll be able to do that one day.

Love Always, 

Samantha

June 8, 1944

Dear Annie, 

Mother and I heard on the news the allies finally made it to Normandy. Mummy got so excited she went out and bought both of us a new dress. I couldn’t go because then the NAZI’s might recognize me, and it’s still not safe. Still, the one she bought me was beautiful. It was navy blue with one of those heavy skirts with tulle underneath. It was white dotted and looked absolutely gorgeous on me. Mummy said it made me look like a Queen. I didn’t say anything back.

Other than the invasion, nothing exciting has happened. The days are getting longer again, which means absolutely nothing to me because I’m trapped in this house. I don’t know how you’ve survived four years in one of those camps, but I’m blown away by your bravery every day.

The news hasn’t said much about your camp, but it never does. I’m just excited you finally get to come home. We can finally do everything we’ve wanted to. I promise you that once this whole war blows over, I’m taking you to Poland, and we’re going to explore. I promise you’ll be safe with me this time, Annie.

Love Always,

Samantha

May 17, 1946

Dear Annie,

I don’t know why you haven’t come home yet. I’ve seen so many Jews return to their families, but I haven’t seen any of our kind. 

This isn’t any reason to get discouraged, though. I’m sure you’re fine. You have to be. The war’s over now. The Allies will bring you home like they brought everyone else home. They have to.

Mother and I have moved out of Germany now. We’ve decided to stay in Britian with my Grandparents. Their house is lovely, even if it feels desperately lonely sometimes. 

You see, my grandparents are very wealthy. I haven’t said much about them because they all but disowned mummy when she ran off with that German boy. The last time I saw them was when I was a child. Now that I’ve met them, I wish I would have seen them more when I was younger.

They’re full of so many stories. It’s amazing how gracefully they grew together. I aspire to have that with you, once you come home. We can tell our grandchildren all about our story. I’m sure they’ll love it. Maybe then we won’t have to hide anymore.

Love Always,

Samantha

December 30, 1948

Dear Annie,

I’ve begun to lose hope that you’ll ever return. This morning I talked to one of the men who served in the war, and I asked him whatever happened to the people in your camp. He told me they got what they deserved.

To be perfectly honest, he seemed a little disgusted with me when I asked him about it, which leads me to believe that they never did care about our kind. That they’re no better than the people they were fighting. It’s almost humerous to see how unkind some heroes really are. I never did know there was an opinoin section on who to save. I always assumed that to be a hero, you had to save everyone, regardless of who they were, and to incarcerate one person and save another, does it really make you worthy of my praise?

The way I see it, these great men are no better than their NAZI counterparts. They too mock and imprison and throw people like us to hell because we love differently than they love. These great men chose to turn a blind eye to what the Germans were doing to you, but stopped at nothing to save others. And I think that people who pick and choose who to save and who to kill are no better than anyone else in this war. 

The people who fought in this war liked to think they are nothing like the other side, when they are everything like the other side. Maybe they wouldn’t go to such lengths to deminish a group of people, but they sure as hell didn’t stop it when there was group they felt weren’t worth saving. And their reasons for not saving them are the same reasons for the NAZI’s to put them in the camps in the first place. 

The winners of this war have tried so desperately to set themselves apart from the losing side, but if they were different, would they have to show people what was different about them? 

Love Always,

Samantha

1942

Dear Samantha,

I’ll have you know that I’m doing just fine. The conditions they’ve stuck us in aren’t pleasant, but they’re not quite as bad as that hotel we stayed in after prom. I met a group of people who are in the same situation as me, and we talk when we can. They’re nice people, Sami.

One of the reasons I keep going is because I know you’re safe. You don’t know how much it means to me that you keep going. When you’re in a place like this, there’s not much you can find in the way of happy.

I know this’ll never make it to you, but it makes me feel good just pretending you’ll read this. I’ll try to save it for when I get back home. 

I have a surprise for you for when I get back. Just don’t go meeting anyone else, okay? Because for this to work, we have to stay together. 

I’ve noticed large groups of campers just going missing. Which, I might add, is pretty odd considering there’s no where to get lost. My friends and I are going to check it out once everyone is asleep. Wish us luck.

I can barely stand being without you, Sami. It’s been so hard to be away from you for two whole years. At least, I think it’s been two years. They don’t let us have calanders here. Even now, I had to steal this paper from one of the shops. I’m not exactly staying out of trouble.

When I get back, we’re going on a trip. I don’t care where, but you and I are going somewhere new together. That’ll be fun. I could be anywhere, and if you were there, I’d have fun.

Listen, I have to go now. Everyone’s going to bed. This is our chance to snoop!

Love,

Annie

I’m so sorry to tell you this, but Annie’s gone missing. I’m her friend, Eleanor, and I’m guessing you’re that Sami she never shuts up about. She made you sound like such a wonderful gal, I’m so sorry you have to find out like this. Stay strong, she would want you to.

Author's Note

I'm not sure what this was. Tell me if you liked the style, content, characters, etc.

Reviews

[tatiana]

there is something here that grabbed me... please continue the story, characters are so alive and real. Let them talk