Abandoned and Forgotten: An Orphan Girl's Tale of Survival During World War II
Evelyne Tannehill
Paperback, 6x9 in, 440 pages
Wheatmark, January 2007
ISBN: 9781587366932
Description
Much has been written about World War II, but not often do we hear about the immeasurable suffering of the Germans who wanted no part of Hitler's regime.
Abandoned and Forgotten is the memoir of a young girl growing up in the then-German province of East Prussia by the Baltic Sea. Orphaned at the age of nine and left to fend for herself in a hostile world, Evelyne Tannehill witnessed firsthand what happens when law and order break down and self-preservation becomes the only thing that matters. Her journey is a poignant example of how resilient the human spirit can be, even in the face of war's greatest horrors.
About the Author
Evelyne Tannehill is retired and resides in Reno, Nevada. She has two children and four grandchildren.
Excerpt
It is my ninth birthday. It is snowing and the temperature hovers near freezing. My mother and I struggle with a sled heaped with food supplies and warm bedding as we flee from the Russians, the enemy. We are in a procession with hundreds of women and children pulling sleds loaded with infants, young children, and sparse possessions. We make little progress. Our feet sink into the powdery snow. Suddenly, we hear a droning sound like a hundred angry bees. Airplanes appear from everywhere in the cloudless sky. They are Russian planes with large red hammer-and-sickle symbols under their shiny wings. The planes look like enormous silver birds as the sun reflects on the hard metal. I look up and see the laughing faces of young boy pilots in brown fur hats as they zoom in on us. Violent explosions shake the earth. People scream. I scream. I try to run but am stuck in a sea of white. I throw myself to the ground and bury my face in the icy snow. I cry out for my mother and look up, searching for her. Blood splatters all around me. Body parts fly through the air, some of them landing on my back like heavy fists. The ground is covered with severed arms, legs, and heads, while the snow melts under me and turns into a pool of blood. Its nauseating, sweet smell penetrates my nostrils. I am drowning in it and continue to call for Mother, but she is not there. I come up for one last breath of air and see her stretched out on a gurney under a white sheet. She is dead. I fight to stay afloat, but something heavy is pulling me down. I am drowning. Just before passing out, I awaken, gasping for air. My heart pounds wildly in my throat, and I am drenched in the sweat of fear, a fear so real that I am frightened even after I realize it was just a nightmare, the same nightmare that has haunted me for over sixty years.
