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Generally people stay away from reading books about horrifying experiences they know will be difficult to cope with. Certainly Hitler's war falls into that category. We know about the dead, the lost families, the furnaces where the Jews were annihilated, the swift efforts to dispose of all the dead before they could be recovered for a decent burial. It is all history now, and it cannot be undone. And yet, when one has such a book in one's lap, something compels one to read on. We already know the story, and yet some inner force keeps us turning the pages until we have finished. It is as if the rereading will magically keep it from ever happening again.
Louis Micheels has waited nearly 40 years to tell his story. When the war broke out, he was a student at the University of Utrecht. He saw the Junker aircraft flying by overhead, dropping German soldiers into Holland. His parents were contained and calm, but Micheels knew that when they were questioned they would be identified as Jews and probably be sent to one of the camps. His fears were later confirmed when, after the war was over, he learned that his parents had been gassed. But before this tragedy occurred, Micheels and his lover, Nora, decided to make a run toward Switzerland. They came in a car to the Swiss border, where they were to transfer to another automobile on the Swiss side; but their guides were informers, and they were picked up by the Gestapo, who drove them to their incarceration. They served time together in some of the worst of the camps—Mechelen, Auschwitz, and finally Dachau.
Throughout this ordeal Nora was an important, stabilizing figure for him. She was supportive, bolstering him when he was feeling down or reassuring him that they would survive this ordeal together. He had to make contact with her to feel