I remember reading the book. I was about 9 years old, it was in the class library (an orange box) and the pages were loose. I started it on Friday afternoon, and asked the teacher if I could take it home - something not usually allowed. She said yes.

I showed it to my dad, who said nothing, but bought me a big bag of my favourite sweets (sounds silly, but if you knew my dad it meant a lot.) Later on, I found out he was one of the first of the Allied Army to drive into Belsen.

Years later, when my father finally started to talk about the war, my daughter asked about Belsen, but my Dad couldn't tell her. I bought her Anne Frank's diary. The next time he visited, she showed him the book, told him she had read it and hugged him. He gave her a hug. No words. They weren't necessary

..wispa