Dimensions
158 x 244 x 33mm
They have no graves, they have no markers of ever having existed. The millions of people who were murdered by the Nazis live on only in the memories of the survivors.
Writing with the instincts of a born storyteller, Andor Schwartz takes us back to the world of his childhood in rural Hungary, in the years leading up to the Second World War. He paints a vivid picture of his idyllic youth, but then the dark clouds of evil obliterated the sunshine of this arcadian childhood.
We live with him through the horrors of the Holocaust years, on the run in Budapest, surviving certain death time and time again. He survived but his entire family perished. Life went on despite the enormity of the loss. He takes us to Israel and then to Australia, where he prospered and his children had children, and the cycle of life returned to its natural and proper order.
