The Diary of a Young Girl_ The Definitive Edition - Anne Frank [123]
Saturday: “Wonderful, what fantastic weather,” we all said in the morning. “If only it weren’t quite so hot,” we said in the afternoon, when the windows had to be shut.
Sunday: “The heat’s unbearable, the butter’s melting, there’s not a cool spot anywhere in the house, the bread’s drying out, the milk’s going sour, the windows can’t be opened. We poor outcasts are suffocating while everyone else is enjoying their Pentecost.” (According to Mrs. van D.)
Monday: “My feet hurt, I have nothing cool to wear, I can’t do the dishes in this heat!” Grumbling from early in the morning to late at night. It was awful.
I can’t stand the heat. I’m glad the wind’s come up today, but that the sun’s still shining.
Yours, Anne M. Frank
FRIDAY, JUNE 2, 1944
Dear Kitty,
“If you’re going to the attic, take an umbrella with you, preferably a large one!” This is to protect you from “household showers.” There’s a Dutch proverb: “High and dry, safe and sound,” but it obviously doesn’t apply to wartime (guns!) and to people in hiding (cat box!). Mouschi’s gotten into the habit of relieving herself on some newspapers or between the cracks in the floorboards, so we have good reason to fear the splatters and, even worse, the stench. The new Moortje in the warehouse has the same problem. Anyone who’s ever had a cat that’s not housebroken can imagine the smells, other than pepper and thyme, that permeate this house.
I also have a brand-new prescription for gunfire jitters: When the shooting gets loud, proceed to the nearest wooden staircase. Run up and down a few times, making sure to stumble at least once. What with the scratches and the noise of running and falling, you won’t even be able to hear the shooting, much less worry about it. Yours truly has put this magic formula to use, with great success!
Yours, Anne M. Frank
MONDAY, JUNE 5, 1944
Dearest Kitty,
New problems in the Annex. A quarrel between Dussel and the Franks over the division of butter. Capitulation on the part of Dussel. Close friendship between the latter and Mrs. van Daan, flirtations, kisses and friendly little smiles. Dussel is beginning to long for female companionship.
The van Daans don’t see why we should bake a spice cake for Mr. Kugler’s birthday when we can’t have one ourselves. All very petty. Mood upstairs: bad. Mrs. van D. has a cold. Dussel caught with brewer’s yeast tablets, while we’ve got none.
The Fifth Army has taken Rome. The city neither destroyed nor bombed. Great propaganda for Hitler.
Very few potatoes and vegetables. One loaf of bread was moldy.
Scharminkeltje (name of new warehouse cat) can’t stand pepper. She sleeps in the cat box and does her business in the wood shavings. Impossible to keep her.
Bad weather. Continuous bombing of Pas de Calais and the west coast of France.
No one buying dollars. Gold even less interesting. The bottom of our black moneybox is in sight. What are we going to live on next month?
Yours, Anne M. Frank
TUESDAY, JUNE 6, 1944
My dearest Kitty,
“This is D Day,” the BBC announced at twelve. “This is the day.” The invasion has begun!
This morning at eight the British reported heavy bombing of Calais, Boulogne, Le Havre and Cherbourg, as well as Pas de Calais (as usual). Further, as a precautionary measure for those in the occupied territories, everyone living within a zone of twenty miles from the coast was warned to prepare for bombardments. Where possible, the British will drop pamphlets an hour ahead of time.
According to the German news, British paratroopers have landed on the coast of France. “British landing craft are engaged in combat with German naval units,” according to the BBC.
Conclusion reached by the Annex while breakfasting at nine: this is a trial landing, like the one two years ago in Dieppe.
BBC broadcast in German, Dutch, French and other languages at ten: The invasion