One day we were given pink documents, which meant, "Limited stay." My mother said, "This can only mean Siberia. We can't survive Siberia with two children. We're going to leave." So we put some possessions on a truck and left at night and went to father's family in Lvov.
Lvov was a very crowded city, where we lived with my father's sister. They simply allocated some room to us. But now I wish we had gone to Siberia, because some people survived Siberia. I remember one morning in 1941 I got up and my mother was standing at the window. I joined her at the window and saw the first Germans going by on motorcycles, creeping by at dawn. My mother said, "This is the end of us."