Goslar, who’s expecting another baby. Lies, who’s all thumbs, gets lost in themayhem.My sister Margot has also gotten her report card.Brilliant, as usual. If we had such a thing as “cum laude,” she would havepassed with honors, she’s so smart.Father has been home a lot lately. There’s nothing for him to do at the office;it must be awful to feel you’re not needed. Mr. Kleiman has taken overOpekta, and Mr. Kugler, Gies & Co., the company dealing in spices and spicesubstitutes that was set up in 1941.A few days ago, as we were taking a stroll around our neighborhood square,Father began to talk about going into hiding. He said it would be very hardfor us to live cut off from the rest of the world. I asked him why he wasbringing this up now.”Well, Anne,” he replied, “you know that for more than a year we’ve beenbringing clothes, food and furniture to other people. We don’t want ourbelongings to be seized by the Germans. Nor do we want to fall into theirclutches ourselves. So we’ll leave of our own accord and not wait to behauled away.””But when, Father?” He sounded so serious that I felt scared.”Don’t you worry. We’ll take care of everything. just enjoy your carefree lifewhile you can.”That was it. Oh, may these somber words not come true for as long aspossible.The doorbell’s ringing, Hello’s here, time to stop.Yours, AnneWEDNESDAY, JULY 8, 1942Dearest Kitty,It seems like years since Sunday morning. So much has happened it’s as if thewhole world had suddenly turned upside down. But as you can see, Kitty, I’mstill alive, and that’s the main thing, Father says. I’m alive all right, but don’task where or how. You probably don’t understand a word I’m saying today,so I’ll begin by telling you what happened Sunday afternoon.At three o’clock (Hello had left but was supposed to come back later), thedoorbell rang. I didn’t hear it, since I was out on the balcony, lazily reading inthe sun. A little while later Margot appeared in the kitchen doorway lookingvery agitated. “Father has received a call-up notice from the SS,”she whispered. “Mother has gone to see Mr. van Daan” (Mr. van Daan isFather’s business partner and a good friend.) I was stunned. A call-up:everyone knows what that means.Visions of concentration camps and lonely cells raced through my head. Howcould we let Father go to such a fate? “Of course he’s not going,” declaredMargot as we waited for Mother in the living room. “Mother’s gone to Mr.van Daan to ask whether we can move to our hiding place tomorrow. The vanDaans are going with us. There will be seven of us altogether.” Silence. Wecouldn’t speak. The thought of Father off visiting someone in the JewishHospital and completely unaware of what was happening, the long wait forMother, the heat, the suspense — all this reduced us to silence.Suddenly the doorbell rang again. “That’s Hello,” I said.”Don’t open the door!” exclaimed Margot to stop me. But it wasn’t necessary,since we heard Mother and Mr. van Daan downstairs talking to Hello, andthen the two of them came inside and shut the door behind them. Every timethe bell rang, either Margot or I had to tiptoe downstairs to see if it wasFather, and we didn’t let anyone else in. Margot and I were sent from theroom, as Mr. van Daan wanted to talk to Mother alone.When she and I were sitting in our bedroom, Margot told me that the call-upwas not for Father, but for her. At this second shock, I began to cry. Margotis sixteen — apparently they want to send girls her age away on their own.But thank goodness she won’t be going; Mother had said so herself, whichmust be what Father had meant when he talked to me about our going intohiding. Hiding. . . where would we hide?In the city? In the country? In a house? In a shack? When, where, how. . . ?These were questions I wasn’t allowed to ask, but they still kept runningthrough my mind.Margot and I started packing our most important belongings into a schoolbag.The first thing I stuck in was this diary, and then curlers, handkerchiefs,schoolbooks, a comb and some old letters. Preoccupied by the thought ofgoing into hiding, I stuck the craziest things in the bag, but I’m not sorry.Memories mean more to me than dresses.Father finally came hQme around five o’clock, and we called Mr. Kleiman toask if he could come by that evening.Mr. van Daan left and went to get Miep. Miep arrived and promised to returnlater that night, taking with her a bag full of shoes, dresses, jackets,underwear and stockings.After that it was quiet in our apartment; none of us felt like eating. It was stillhot, and everything was very strange.We had rented our big upstairs room to a Mr. Goldschmidt, a divorced manin his thirties, who apparently had nothing to do that evening, since despiteall our polite hints he hung around until ten o’clock.Miep and Jan Gies came at eleven. Miep, who’s worked for Father’s companysince 1933, has become a close friend, and so has her husband Jan. Onceagain, shoes, stockings, books and underwear disappeared into Miep’s bagand Jan’s deep pockets. At eleven-thirty they too disappeared.I was exhausted, and even though I knew it’d be my last night in my own bed,I fell asleep right away and didn’t wake up until Mother called me at fivethirty the next morning.Fortunately, it wasn’t as hot as Sunday; a warm rain fell throughout the day.The four of us were wrapped in so many layers of clothes it looked as if wewere going off to spend the night in a refrigerator, and all that just so wecould take more clothes with us. No Jew in our situation would dare leave thehouse with a suitcase full of clothes. I was wearing two undershirts, threepairs of underpants, a dress, and over that a skirt, a jacket, a raincoat, twopairs of stockings, heavy shoes, a cap, a scarf and lots more. I wassuffocating even before we left the house, but no one bothered to ask me howI felt.Margot stuffed her schoolbag with schoolbooks, went to get her bicycle and,with Miep leading the way, rode off into the great unknown. At any rate,that’s how I thought of it, since I still didn’t know where our hiding place was.At seven-thirty we too closed the door behind us; Moortje, my cat, was theonly living creature I said good-bye to.According to a note we left for Mr. Goldschmidt, she was to be taken to theneighbors, who would give her a good home.The stripped beds, the breakfast things on the table, the pound of meat for thecat in the kitchen — all of these created the impression that we’d left in ahurry. But we weren’t interested in impressions. We just wanted to get out ofthere, to get away and reach our destination in safety.Nothing else mattered.More tomorrow.Yours, AnneTHURSDAY, JULY 9, 1942Dearest Kitty,So there we were, Father, Mother and I, walking in the pouring rain, each ofus with a schoolbag and a shopping bag filled to the brim with the mostvaried assortment of items.The people on their way to work at that early hour gave us sympathetic looks;you could tell by their faces that they were sorry they couldn’t offer us somekind of transportation; the conspicuous yellow star spoke for itself.Only when we were walking down the street did Father and Mother reveal,little by little, what the plan was. For months we’d been moving as much ofour furniture and apparel out of the apartment as we could. It was agreed thatwe’d go into hiding on July 16. Because of Margot’s call-up notice, the planhad to be moved up ten days, which meant we’d have to make do with lessorderly rooms.The hiding place was located in Father’s office building.That’s a little hard for outsiders to understand, so I’ll explain. Father didn’thave a lot of people working in his office, just Mr. Kugler, Mr. Kleiman,Miep and a twenty-three-year-old typist named Bep Voskuijl, all of whomwere informed of our coming. Mr. Voskuijl, Bep’s father, works in thewarehouse, along with two assistants, none of whom were told anything.Here’s a description of the building. The large warehouse on the ground flooris used as a workroom and storeroom and is divided into several differentsections, such as the stockroom and the milling room, where cinnamon,cloves and a pepper substitute are ground.Next to the warehouse doors is another outside’ door, a separate entrance tothe office. Just inside the office door is a second door, and beyond that astairway. At the top of the stairs is another door, with a frosted window onwhich the word “Office” is written in black letters. This is the big front office– very large, very light and very full.Bep, Miep and Mr. Kleiman work there during the day. After passing throughan alcove containing a safe, a wardrobe and a big supply cupboard, you cometo the small, dark, stuffy back office. This used to be shared by Mr. Kuglerand Mr. van Daan, but now Mr. Kugler is its only occupant. Mr. Kugler’soffice can also be reached from the hallway, but only through a glass doorthat can be opened from the inside but not easily from the outside. If youleave Mr. Kugler’s office and proceed through the long, narrow hallway pastthe coal bin and go up four steps, you find yourself in the private office, theshowpiece of the entire building. Elegant mahogany furniture, a linoleumfloor covered with throw rugs, a radio, a fancy lamp, everything first class.Next door is a spacious kitchen with a hot-water heater and two gas burners,and beside that a bathroom. That’s the second floor.A wooden staircase leads from the downstairs hallway to the third floor. Atthe top of the stairs is a landing, with doors on either side. The door on theleft takes you up to the spice storage area, attic and loft in the front part of thehouse. A typically Dutch, very steep, ankle-twisting flight of stairs also runsfrom the front part of the house to another door opening onto the street.The door to the right of the landing leads to the “Secret Annex” at the backofthe house. No one would ever suspect there were so many rooms behindthat plain gray door. There’s just one small step in front of the door, and thenyou’re inside. Straight ahead of you is a steep flight of stairs. To the left is anarrow hallway opening onto a room that serves as the Frank family’s livingINSERT MAP HEREroom and bedroom. Next door is a smaller room, the )edroom and study ofthe two young ladies of the family. ro the right of the stairs is a windowlesswashroom. with a link. The door in the corner leads to the toilet and anotherone to Margot’s and my room. If you go up the itairs and open the door at thetop, you’re surprised to see such a large, light and spacious room in an oldcanalside house like this. It contains a stove (thanks to the fact hat it used tobe Mr. Kugler’s laboratory) and a sink.This will be the kitchen and bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. van Daan, as well asthe general living room, dining room and study for us all. A tiny side room isto be Peter van Daan’s bedroom. Then, just as in the front part of the building,there’s an attic and a loft. So there you are. Now I’ve introduced you to thewhole of our lovely Annex!Yours, Anne