RT. HON. SIR WINSTON  SPENCER CHURCHILL

ANNE FRANK

ROUND TABLE OF NEBRASKA

The Bookworm 2501 S. 90th St

Omaha Nebraska, 68124

http://wrldhstry.com/

 

 

Sunday September 26th 

 

Lunch 12:30pm at Swartz’s Delicatessen

Swartz's Deli - Sandwich, Breakfast & Brunch Restaurant (swartzsdeli.com)

 

2:00 pm at the Bookworm

The Bookworm Omaha

 

 

Churchill wearing a suit, standing and holding a chair 

 

http://wrldhstry.com/WinstonChurchill_AnneFrank_Online_Resources.htm

 

Andrew Robert’s

Churchill Walking With Destiny

(2018, pages 359-361 & Audible 15. Into The Wilderness 26:44 – 35:23)

 

 Martin Gilbert’s

Winston S. Churchill Volume 5 The Prophet Of Truth 1922-1939

Chapter 22 “Visit to the United States: A Serious Accident” (1976, pages 420-427)

(Kindle copy available for best value at $10.99)

 

Anne Frank’s

Diary Of A Young Girl

Diary Entry of June 20, 1942

(Available on Audible in same format as book)

 

Wednesday March 9, 1932

War, today, is bare – bare of profit and stripped of all its glamour. The old pomp and circumstance are gone. War is now nothing but toil, blood, death, squalor and lying propaganda.

 

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/18/Forrest_P_SHerman.jpghttps://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/9c/Forrest_Sherman_1918.jpg/150px-Forrest_Sherman_1918.jpg

….. Excerpt from Andrew Robert’s Churchill Walking With Destiny (2018, pages 361-362)

 

On 9 March, Churchill was interviewed by CBS Radio in New York. ‘I think in most people’s lives good and bad luck even out pretty well,’ he said. ‘Sometimes, what looks like bad luck may turn out to be good luck and vice versa . . . I’ve done a lot of foolish things that turned out well, and a lot of wise things that have turned out badly. The misfortune of today may lead to the success of tomorrow. That was all true in his own case, but he then made a terrible prediction: ‘I don’t believe we shall see another great war in our time. War, today, is bare – bare of profit and stripped of all its glamour. The old pomp and circumstance are gone. War is now nothing but toil, blood, death, squalor and lying propaganda.* Besides, as long as the French keep a strong army, and Great Britain and the United States have good navies, no great war is likely to occur. Of the English-speaking peoples,

 

Churchill argued, ‘There must be some organizing force at the summit of human affairs, some chairmanship in the Council of Nations, strong enough to lead them out of their present confusion, back to prosperity.’ World prosperity and world peace, he said, would come from ‘the two world creditor nations acting together’, and he added, ‘My confidence in the British Empire is unshakeable. He also had confidence in the United States. ‘If the whole world except the United States sank under the ocean that community could get its living. They carved it out of the prairie and the forests. They are going to have a strong national resurgence in the near future.’

 

* A variation on this language would form part of one of his most famous speeches in May 1940.

 

Saturday June 20, 1942

 

Writing in a diary is a really strange experience for someone like me. Not only because I've never written anything before, but also because it seems to me that later on neither I nor anyone else will be interested in the musings of a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl.

Friday, August 1, 2014, marked the 70th anniversary of Anne Frank's final diary entry. Three days later, she was arrested with her family in the "secret annex" of a house in Amsterdam, Netherlands, where they had hidden for two years. She later died at the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp when she was 15. In her diary, Anne describes a<strong> </strong>1942 picture of herself: "This is a photo as I would wish myself to look all the time. Then I would maybe have a chance to come to Hollywood." Click through the gallery to see other pages from her diary:

 

 

Writing in a diary is a really strange experience for someone like me. Not only because I've never written anything before, but also because it seems to me that later on neither I nor anyone else will be interested in the musings of a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl. Oh well, it doesn't matter. I feel like writing, and I have an even greater need to get all kinds of things off my chest.

 

"Paper has more patience than people." I thought of this saying on one of those days when I was feeling a little depressed and was sitting at home with my chin in my hands, bored and listless, wondering whether to stay in or go out. I finally stayed where I was, brooding. Yes, paper does have more patience, and since I'm not planning to let anyone else read this stiff-backed notebook grandly referred to as a "diary," unless I should ever find a real friend, it probably won't make a bit of difference.

 

Now I'm back to the point that prompted me to keep a diary in the first place: I don't have a friend.

 

Let me put it more clearly, since no one will believe that a thirteen year-old girl is completely alone in the world. And I'm not. I have loving parents and a sixteen-year-old sister, and there are about thirty people I can call friends. I have a throng of admirers who can't keep their adoring eyes off me and who sometimes have to resort to using a broken pocket mirror to try and catch a glimpse of me in the classroom. I have a family, loving aunts and a good home. No, on the surface I seem to have everything, except my one true friend. All I think about when I'm with friends is having a good time. I can't bring myself to talk about anything but ordinary everyday things. We don't seem to be able to get any closer, and that's the problem. Maybe it's my fault that we don't confide in each other. In any case, that's just how things are, and unfortunately they're not liable to change. This is why I've started the

diary.

 

To enhance the image of this long-awaited friend in my imagination, I don't want to jot down the facts in this diary the way most people would do, but I want the diary to be my friend, and I'm going to call this friend Kitty.

 

Since no one would understand a word of my stories to Kitty if I were to plunge right in, I'd better provide a brief sketch of my life, much as I dislike doing so.

 

My father, the most adorable father I've ever seen, didn't marry my mother until he was thirty-six and she was twenty-five. My sister Margot was born in Frankfurt am Main in Germany in 1926. I was born on June 12, 1929. I lived in Frankfurt until I was four. Because we're Jewish, my father immigrated to Holland in 1933, when he became the Managing Director of the Dutch Opekta Company, which manufactures products used in making jam. My mother, Edith Hollander Frank, went with him to Holland in September, while Margot and I were sent to Aachen to stay with our grandmother. Margot went to Holland in December, and I followed in February, when I was plunked down on the table as a birthday present for Margot.

 

I started right away at the Montessori nursery school. I stayed there until I was six, at which time I started first grade. In sixth grade my teacher was Mrs. Kuperus, the principal. At the end of the year we were both in tears as we said a heartbreaking farewell, because I'd been accepted at the Jewish Lyceum, where Margot also went to school.

 

Our lives were not without anxiety, since our relatives in Germany were suffering under Hitler's anti-Jewish laws. After the pogroms in 1938 my two uncles (my mother's brothers) fled Germany, finding safe refuge in North America. My elderly grandmother came to live with us. She was seventy-three years old at the time.

 

After May 1940 the good times were few and far between: first there was the war, then the capitulation and then the arrival of the Germans, which is when the trouble started for the Jews. Our freedom was severely restricted by a series of anti-Jewish decrees: Jews were required to wear a yellow star: Jews were required to turn in their bicycles! Jews were forbidden to use street-cars! Jews were forbidden to ride in cars, even their own! Jews were required to do their shopping between 3 and 5 P.M.! Jews were required to frequent only Jewish-owned barbershops and beauty parlors! Jews were forbidden to be out on the streets between 8 P.M. and 6 A.M.! Jews were

forbidden to attend theaters, movies or any other forms of entertainment; Jews were forbidden to use swimming pools, tennis courts, hockey fields or any other athletic fields; Jews were forbidden to go rowing; Jews were forbidden to take part in any athletic activity in public; Jews were forbidden to sit in their gardens or those of their friends after 8 P.M.; Jews were forbidden to visit Christians in their homes; Jews were required to attend Jewish schools, etc. You couldn't do this and you couldn't do that, but life went on. Jacque always said to me, "I don't dare do anything anymore, 'cause I'm afraid it's not allowed."

 

In the summer of 1941 Grandma got sick and had to have an operation, so my birthday passed with little celebration. In the summer of 1940 we didn't do much for my birthday either, since the fighting had just ended in Holland. Grandma died in January 1942. No one knows how often I think of her and still love her. This birthday celebration in 1942 was intended to make up for the others, and Grandma's candle was lit along with the rest.

 

The four of us are still doing well, and that brings me to the present date of June 20, 1942, and the solemn dedication of my diary.