Violette and Ginger: Based on real events book cover

Violette and Ginger: Based on real events

Violette was born in Vienna to Jewish parents who immigrated to the United States before World War II. Due to Nazi racial laws, she was forced to leave her university studies, was arrested by the Gestapo, managed to escape, and joined the partisans, where she met her red-haired lover. The novel is based on testimonies of survivors of the extermination camps, and although the names and places have been changed, the descriptions are accurate and based on survivors' testimonials.

Genre: Non-Fiction, Novel, Romance

The extreme wind whistled wildly as it eagerly shook the dense branches of the hanging birch trees. The moon shone for a moment through the black clouds, and only then could the road be seen and be passed without encountering broken branches and being thrown onto the muddy ground. Violette knew she had to constantly move lest she froze to death. Her thin, torn coat hung over her slender body, and her forehead was bruised from the many falls, but she moved forward like a wounded animal fighting to survive. She knew that the deeper she went into the dark forest, the harder it would be for the dogs to find her. She had not heard their barking for a long time and realized that she had moved far enough, but she also knew that if she stopped moving forward, they would catch up with her, so she was determined to keep moving away from them before dawn. The sound of thunder and flashes of lightning startled her; she bit her lips in fear and cringed as she clung to a tree. She strained her eyes wide open to see something, but in vain; blind, with her arms outstretched not to bang her head, she advanced step by step. At first light, she realized that she was already deep in the heart of the forest, protected from her pursuers but exposed to cold and hunger. The walk was hard and slow, she noticed a pit that would be a shelter where she could rest a bit and maybe catch a nap, but as she got closer, she slipped into it. As she tried to stop herself with her bare hands from falling, a sharp broken branch got stuck deep into her arm; she fainted from the intensity of the pain. The drizzle of rain splashing on her face woke her up; she opened her eyes, lying on her back, and every attempt to move her hand caused her intense pain. Her teeth chattered, and a tremor struck her body; she understood the severity of her condition well. In a desperate effort, she grabbed the branch fragment in her hand and ripped it from her arm. Now she was fighting for her life; she wanted to live and knew she had to stop the bleeding. She tore a strip of cloth from the rags of her coat and tied it over the wound as she tightened the knot with her teeth. She crawled into a pile of leaves to protect herself from the bitter cold and rain that fell from time to time. When she opened her eyes, she realized that the day had passed while she was sleeping, darkness had fallen on the forest, and the sounds of owls and other nocturnal animals sounded. Violette closed her eyes; she imagined Vienna's family house, mother and father having dinner with her. The fireplace that spread heat from his whispering coals contributed his part to the atmosphere. "Taste the liver spread I prepared for you, Vivi," her mother said to her, and her father, with a loving smile, added, "My sweet Violette, what would you like me to bring you from New York? The rain stopped, and the sky cleared a little; Violette crawled out of the pit sheltering her; she stood and wondered which direction she should go; she was afraid she would go back in her footsteps. Her arm bothered her, and she released the tight knot a little, the wound did not bleed, and her fingers' numbness passed. She started walking. Suddenly she saw a squirrel gnawing at something it had found on the ground; she hurriedly chased it away and began to search with her bare hands under the leaves, and the wooden pieces lined the wet soil. She picked up some nuts. She looked up and saw where they had fallen from. She sat on the ground and cracked the nuts with a stone. She chewed them slowly to make it easier for her to swallow. She licked the dewdrops from the large leaves she had picked up. Before proceeding, she filled her pockets with nuts to sustain her for the next few days. All day, she walked slowly but steadily; she felt her strength return to her, which made her feel more secure. As it began to get dark, she was looking for a hiding place for the approaching night. Since she could not find anything, she decided to walk all night, for the moon's pale light was enough to see her way through obstacles. She recalled her parents again. "Did Dad come back from the concert?" She asked her mother, "Vivi, sweetheart, don't you remember Dad leaving for New York?" Some voices heard nearby brought her back to reality; she lay on the damp ground and listened; it seemed that these were human voices. She lay motionless and strained to listen; suddenly, she heard a boy screaming, maybe a girl. She raised her head slightly and saw nothing. Dawn broke, and she got up and started walking bent over as she leaned on her palms. In the distance, she saw a low figure running through the woods, followed by a slightly taller one; they ran in a circle and returned to the starting point, laughing loudly. She decided to get closer to them until she was at a distance where she could hear them well: "Juziek, don't go too far away," she heard a female voice say in Polish. "I am on Polish land!" The thought went through her mind. Violette was lying in the bushes looking at the two children playing hide and seek; she was afraid to get close lest she would be discovered. "Juziek and Julia, the food is ready," she heard a male voice calling to them. She got up a little and noticed a young man wearing a woolen hat and black coat; she noticed a rifle barrel hanging over his shoulder. She was hungry and thirsty; the people in the forest did not seem threatening, so she decided to try her luck. When she got up, she saw smoke rising from the direction where the children were running; the man with the rifle had also left. She was strolling toward the fire when she suddenly heard the click of the rifle "Stop, who are you?" She heard the man's voice behind her. She turned to him. "My name is Kristina Kruk; I'm from Olsztyn, Mazury," she replied. "Are you Jewish?" He asked as he came to a few steps nearer. "No, I'm not Jewish," she replied firmly. "Then what are you doing in the woods?" He asked, still aiming at her with his weapon.
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Uri Jerzy Nachimson

Uri Jerzy Nachimson was born in Szczecin, Poland, in 1947, and two years later, his parents immigrated to Israel. In 1966 he was drafted into the Israeli army, where he served as a war photographer in the Northern Command and participated in the ‘six days war’ as a photographer in combat. His travels and adventures worldwide are recorded in the various books he has written, including Seeds of Love and Broken hearts at Boulevard Unirii. When he went back to Poland in 1990 to seek his roots, he was deeply affected by the attitude of the Poles towards the Jews both during and after World War II and decided to research the history of the Jews of Poland during that era. Thus the trilogy was born; Lilly's Album, The Polish Patriot and Identity. Uri's grandmother, Ida Friedberg, was the granddaughter of the known Jewish writer A.S. Friedberg, author of many books. In 2008, Uri relocated to Tuscany in Italy, where he lives with his wife. While in Cortona, he wrote: Two Margherita, Isabella, Into the depth of Silence, Violette & Ginger, Recalled to life, and Rembrandt for Sale. All of his books have been translated into many languages. more…

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