My memory actually starts to run with the liberation by the Russian Red Army. Tanks and soldiers with a balalaika. Candies were thrown out of the tanks and everyone threw themselves on them. I was not allowed to touch them, and certainly not eat them. Typhus reigned, a fever from which many people still died. A good decision from my mother. In the camp also polio and TB occurred. I catched a TB infection which healed spontaneously. After the war I responded positively to TB tests and had to have an X-ray made every year.
The abundant bedbugs also crawled over me without striking me (stories from my mother). The discipline she had. She absolutely wanted to return to Amsterdam. During the whole wartime she made up herself with some leftover lipstick. A consolation was a row of trees that reminded her of the Weteringsschans in Amsterdam. It turned out that she was aiming for our return one day, when I stole a swede from a freight train. In the evening I thought to make her happy with some extra food when she came back. However, with a view to our return and the rules that would apply, I had to bring it back.
Just before the liberation, another shootout brok out, so we had to bend over. When the Germans capitulated and we were liberated, the Russians were shooting in the air. Kind of bonfire. I was terrified. “No need”, my mother said, “they shoot because they are happy”. “Are they happy to see Jews then”? I must have said. I was over 6 years old then.
When the gates went open and we could go out, I saw what a beautiful weather it was. We were in a meadow full of flowers and a blooming lilac. For years I was the 8th of May in a meadow with flowers to retrieve this moment of happiness. The lilac has always been the tree of freedom for me.