I’ve always loved stories about World War II, probably because I have fond memories of my paternal grandfather coming up to our house on Sundays after Church and regaling us over coffee with stories of his time as a Navy Sea Bee in the Pacific theater. Needless to say, none of his stories were ever like this one.
Stanislawa recalls the conditions the sick inmates had to contend with: “In the winter, when the temperatures were very low, icicles formed on the ceiling from the breath and perspiration – one silvery rod next to another. When, in the evening, the lights were put on, they glittered beautifully. They looked like one great crystal chandelier. But under these icicles, people slept and sick women delivered their babies.”
I originally received this story from the Catholic Spitfire Grill Yahoo group – a good bunch of folks, should you wish to take a look-see.
