From Theresienstadt

Early in the morning, we marched back to the vehicles. They were now loaded with luggage and passengers. It was an almost incredible sight. The buses had become nearly twice as tall from all that had been stacked on the roofs—suitcases and parcels, baby carriages, chairs and tables, cabinets and shelves.

We could, of course, understand that they wanted to bring their belongings as much as possible, but there was no way we could have passed under viaducts and tram wires. So, amid sighs and tears, the bus roofs had to be unloaded, and all the bulky items had to be left on the ground.

When we were finally able to begin the journey home, we and our passengers were greeted by crowds of people and a brass band that sang and played, appearing joyful. Of course, it was all arranged by the Germans to make a good impression. Our passengers were of all ages, from children to the elderly. Most were in reasonably good condition and wore ordinary civilian clothes with the Star of David sewn onto their chests. Now we headed down from the highlands toward Dresden, where we would join the autobahn toward Berlin.

When we stopped to rest in a forest just outside the town, we saw the remnants of many incendiary bombs that had landed there. They were hexagonal rods, about five or six centimeters thick and roughly the same length. One end was burned, and they looked like aluminum, but it was magnesium, which burns when heated and generates a very high temperature. When we got back onto the autobahn, we were soon stopped again by the Germans, who claimed that it was blocked further ahead, this time by the Russians.

We continued, as we hardly had any other choice. In some places, the roadway was destroyed by huge craters from bomb hits, but we managed to make our way through. Halfway to Berlin, one could clearly hear the roar of cannons from the Eastern Front, which was said to be less than a couple of miles away at its closest point. Earlier in the day, we had also heard the thunder from the Western Front. It was both fascinating and frightening.

When we had a couple of dozen kilometers left to Berlin, it had become so dark that it was difficult to continue, and on top of that, a massive bombing raid was taking place ahead of us. It later turned out to be Potsdam being subjected to its first attack, which reduced almost the entire beautiful city to ruins. We drove into a forest a few hundred meters from the road. We set up our tents, and then everyone had to find a place to spend the night—either in the tents, the buses, or under the open sky.