I don’t believe that the big men, the politicians and the capitalists alone, are guilty of the war. Oh no, the little man is just as guilty, otherwise the peoples of the world would have risen in revolt long ago! There’s in people simply an urge to destroy, an urge to kill, to murder and rage, and until all mankind, without exception, undergoes a great change, wars will be waged, everything that has been built up, cultivated, and grown will be destroyed and disfigured, after which mankind will have to begin all over again.
I have often been downcast, but never in despair; I regard our hiding as a dangerous adventure, romantic and interesting at the same time. In my diary I treat all our privations as amusing. I have made up my mind now to lead a different life from other girls and, later on, different from ordinary housewives. My start has been so very full of interest, and that is the sole reason why I have to laugh at the humorous side of the most dangerous moments.
I am young and I possess many latent qualities; I am young and strong and am living a great adventure; I am still in the midst of it and can’t grumble the whole day long. I have been given a lot, a happy nature, a great deal of cheerfulness and strength. Every day I feel that I am developing inwardly, that the liberation is drawing nearer and how beautiful nature is, how good the people are about me, how interesting this adventure is! Why, then, should I be in despair?
Yours, Anne
Friday, 5 May, 1944
Dear Kitty, Daddy is not pleased with me he thought that after our talk on Sunday I automatically wouldn’t go upstairs every evening. He doesn’t want any ‘necking’ a word I can’t bear. It was bad enough talking about it, why must
he make it so unpleasant now? I shall talk to him today. Margot has given me some good advice, so listen; this is roughly what I want to say: ‘I believe, Daddy, that you expect a declaration from me, so I will give it to you. You are disappointed in me, as you had expected more reserve from me, and I suppose you want me to be just as a fourteen-year old should be. But that’s where you’re mistaken! ‘Since we’ve been here, from July, 1942, until a few weeks ago, I can assure you that I haven’t had an easy time. If you only knew how I cried in the evenings, how unhappy I was, how lonely I felt, you would understand why I want to go upstairs! ‘I have now reached the stage where I can live entirely on my own, without Mummy’s support or anyone else’s for that matter. But it hasn’t just happened in a night; it’s been a bitter, hard struggle and I’ve shed many a tear before I became as independent as I am now. You can laugh at me and not believe me, but that can’t harm me. I know that I’m a separate individual and I don’t feel in the least bit responsible to any of you. I am only telling you this because I thought that otherwise you might think I was being deceitful, but I don’t have to give an account of my deeds to anyone but myself. ‘When I was in difficulty you all closed your eyes and ears and didn’t help me, on the contrary, I received nothing but warnings not to be so boisterous. I was only boisterous so as not to be miserable all the time. I was reckless so as not to hear that persistent voice within me continually. I played a comedy for a year and a half, day in, day out, I never grumbled, never lost my cue, nothing like that—and now, now the battle is over. I have won! I am independent both in mind and body. I don’t need a mother any more, for all this conflict has made me strong. ‘And now that I’m on top of it, now that I know that I’ve fought the battle, now I want to be able to go on in my own way too, the way that I think is right. You can’t and mustn’t regard me as fourteen, for all these troubles have made me older; I shall not be sorry for what I have done, but shall act as I think I can. You can’t coax me into not going upstairs; you can
