Dear Kitty, Every time I write to you something special seems to have happened, but they are more often unpleasant than pleasant things. However, now there is something wonderful going on. Last Wednesday evening, on the 8th of September, we sat around listening to the 7 o’clock news and the first thing we heard was, ‘Here follows the best news of the whole war. Italy has capitulated!’ Italy’s unconditional surrender! The Dutch program from England began at quarter past eight. ‘Listeners, an hour ago, I had just finished writing the chronicle of the day when the wonderful news of Italy’s capitulation came in. I can tell you that I have never deposited my notes in the waste-paper basket with such joy!’ ‘God Save the King,’ the American national anthem, and the ‘Internationale’ were played. As always, the Dutch program was uplifting, but not too optimistic.
Still we have troubles, too; it’s about Mr. Kleiman. As you know, we are all very fond of him, he is always cheerful and amazingly brave, although he is never well, has a lot of pain, and is not allowed to eat much or do much walking. “When Mr. Kleiman enters, the sun begins to shine,”
Mummy said just recently, and she is quite right. Now he has had to go into the hospital for a very unpleasant abdominal operation and will have to stay there for at least four weeks. You really ought to have seen how he said goodbye to us just as usual; he might have simply been going out to do a bit of shopping.
Yours, Anne
Thursday, 16 September, 1943
Dear Kitty, Relations between us here are getting worse all the time. At mealtimes, no one dares to open their mouths (except to allow a mouthful of food to
