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Czechoslovakia, we again feared for our lives because the dreaded Russians were advancing.
And then a strangely fortunate accident occurred: my mother was hit by a passing American truck. My family believed it saved us from enforced return to Russianoccupied Latvia or, worse, to
Siberia. Our fear was
based on another
“great nation’s deal” at
the end of the war.
Refugees were to be
returned to their countries
of origin. Faced 't/J this prospect many
wj who had survived the terW rors of war preferred to commit suicide. In our case, because my mother spoke a little French she convinced the kind and worried American soldier driving the truck that we were French so he let us pass towards the West.
For the next five years we lived in a Displaced Person Camp near Munich, in the American zone. We hoped at first that Latvia would be liberated from the Soviet Union, and then waited to see what country would take us in.
The camp was a vast complex of high-rise buildings, designed as barracks for the German army. We lived 17 or
See SURVIVOR, Page A7
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