NOTES FROM GIRL X
20 April 1943
To the people of Paris,
Happy birthday to me. This is quite a boring way for Girl X to spend her sixteenth birthday, don’t you think? For it is the exact same way she spent the day before and the day before that and the day before that. At least J and M have promised to bring birthday presents when they come over later. In any case, here is how one Jewish girl whose parents will no longer send her to school uses her time:
9:00 A.M. Wake up after sleeping as long as possible. The warmest place in our apartment is my bed, and when I am sleeping I can dream of food.
9:20 A.M. Breakfast. Today, Viandox, that horrid substitute for coffee. Dried bread from yesterday.
10:00 A.M.-1:00 P.M. Studies with Maman. History, English, mathematics, literature, science, and sociology. I dread mathematics. Maman is a mathematics wizard and loves to torture me. What use could I possibly ever have for all these equations? English is enjoyable because Maman never learned it so we are all studying together. LB picks it up fastest. The only good thing about not going to school is that I do not have to study German.
1:00 P.M.-1:30 P.M. Midday meal. Today: rutabaga. Yesterday: rutabaga. The day before yesterday: surprise! Rutabaga and vermicelli.
1:30 P.M.—2:45 P.M. Jewish studies.
2:45 P.M.-4:00 P.M. Maman shops with our ration cards. Usually this is when I write these notes. Sometimes LB and I play chess. I like the game very much. You use your wits to play at war, but no one gets deported or killed.
4:00 P.M.—5:00 P.M. J and M come to visit. Bliss! Especially when M leaves so J and I can be alone. The minutes are crawling by right now as I wait for him. Lately I’ve been longing for more than just kisses. Our love is eternal, so how can it be wrong for us to allow a physical expression of it? Why must it be “You can touch this part of my body, but that part is forbidden”? Who makes such ridiculous rules? Maman is so old fashioned about these things. Here is what she told me about why I should remain a virgin: “If there are two identical sweaters in a shop window, and one is perfect and untouched, but the other is wrinkly and used, which sweater would you buy?”
LB was eavesdropping and she blurted out, “N is not a sweater!” I loved her very much at that moment.
5:00 P.M.-7:00 P.M. Two hours spent missing and waiting for Papa to come home. Sometimes he does, sometimes he does not. I do not want to say more.
7:00 P.M.—8:00 P.M. Dinner. Tonight will be a birthday feast! Roast potatoes, carrots, and some dandelion greens that Maman was able to secure on the black market.
8:00 P.M. Forbidden radio, volume very low, if the electricity is operating, if the Boche are not jamming the BBC, and if our idiot concierge is not poking around our building looking for someone to denounce. In case you do not have a radio, the BBC reported that the Russians have retaken quite a bit of territory, and that American planes bombed Bremen. Sixteen B-17s were lost.
8:30 P.M. Bed. I am never sleepy but the warmth of my bed calls to me so I bring a book or my journal and—
Hold on. I’ll be back. J and M are here!
Hello, I’m back. I had such a wonderful time. M brought me a record of the Andrews Sisters, very jazzy. brought me a new journal he found on the black market. It is so beautiful, with a thick leather cover and paper so creamy that you can practically taste it. Do you see why I love J so? If I close my eyes, I can still feel his lips on mine, my body pressed to his. Tonight I felt so passionately in love with him that I thought I would die with desire. He whispered in my ear that he wanted to make love to me. It is the first time he said the words.
Love is freedom. It is something the Boche can never take from me.