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Finally, a town. We ride through the shtetl of Tartakuv, Jews, ruins, cleanliness of a Jewish kind, the Jewish race, little stores.
I am still ill, I’ve still not gotten back on…
One more incident.
A woman shows up at the president’s office and demands the immediate return of her son, who is working in Djelloula, in the Italian sector.
It is impossible to reason…
I am in hiding in a loft over a stable, in a village, with good people. The risk of death hovers over me, as it does over all Jews these days, and the slightest lapse of vigilance on my…