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saturday； february 27； 1943
dearest kitty；
pim is expecting the invasion any day now。 churchill has had pneumonia； but is gradually getting better。 gandhi； the champion of indian freedom； is on one of his umpteenth hunger strikes。
mrs。 van d。 claims shes fatalistic。 but whos the most afraid when the guns go off？
none other than petronella van daan。
jan brought along the episcopal letter that the bishops addressed to their parishioners。
it was beautiful and inspiring。 〃people of the netherlands； stand up and take action。
each of us must choose our own weapons to fight for the freedom of our country； our people and our reli gion！ give your help and support。 act now！〃 this is what theyre preaching from the pulpit。 will it do any good？ its definitely too late to help our fellow jews。
guess whats happened to us now？ the owner of the building sold it without informing mr。 kugler and mr。 kleiman。 one morning the new landlord arrived with an architect to look the place over。 thank goodness mr。 kleiman was in the office。 he showed the gentlemen all there was to see； with the exception of the secret annex。 he claimed hed left the key at home and the new owner asked no further questions。 if only he doesnt e back demanding to see the annex。 in that case； well be in big trouble！
father emptied a card file for margot and me and filled it with index cards that are blank on one side。 this is to bee our reading file； in which margot and i are supposed to note down the books weve read； the author and the date。 ive learned two new words： 〃brothel〃 and 〃coquette。〃 ive bought a separate notebook for new words。
theres a new division of butter and margarine。 each person is to get their portion on their own plate。 the distribution is very unfair。 the van daans； who always make breakfast for everyone； give themselves one and a half times more than they do us。
my parents are much too afraid of an argument to say anything； which is a shame； because i think people like that should always be given a taste of their own medicine。
yours； anne
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MARCH； 1943
灏彙ｈ銆倀銆倄t…澶�/鍫�
thursday； march 4； 1943
dearest kitty；
mrs。 van d。 has a new nickname weve started calling her mrs。 beaverbrook。 of course； that doesnt mean anything to you； so let me explain。 a certain mr。
beaverbrook often talks on the english radio about what he considers to be the far too lenient bombardment of germany。 mrs。 van daan； who always contradicts everyone； including churchill and the news reports； is in plete agreement with mr。
beaverbrook。 so we thought it would be a good idea for her to be married to him； and since she was flattered by the notion； weve decided to call her mrs。 beaverbrook from now on。
were getting a new warehouse employee； since the old one is being sent to germany。 thats bad for him but good for us because the new one wont be famthar with the building。 were still afraid of the men who work in the warehouse。
gandhi is eating again。
the black market is doing a booming business。 if we had enough money to pay the ridiculous prices； we could stuff ourselves silly。 our greengrocer buys potatoes from the 〃wehrmacht〃 and brings them in sacks to the private office。 since he suspects were hiding here； he makes a point of ing during lunchtime； when the warehouse employees are out。
so much pepper is being ground at the moment that we sneeze and cough with every breath we take。 everyone who es upstairs greets us with an 〃ah…choo。〃 mrs。 van d。 swears she wont go downstairs； one more whiff of pepper and shes going to get sick。
i dont think father has a very nice business。 noth ing but pectin and pepper。 as long as youre in the food business； why not make candy？
a veritable thunderstorm of words came crashing down on me again this morning。
the air flashed with so many coarse expressions that my ears were ringing with 〃annes bad this〃 annd 〃van daans good that。〃 fire and brimstone！
yours； anne
wednesday； march 10； 1943
dearest kitty；
we had a short circuit last night； and besides that； the guns were booming away until dawn。 i still havent gotten over my fear of planes and shooting； and i crawl into
fathers bed nearly every night for fort。 i know it sounds childish； but wait till it happens to you！ the ack…ack guns make so much noise you cant hear your own voice。 mrs。 beaverbrook； the fatalist； practically burst into tears and said in a timid little voice； 〃oh； its so awful。 oh； the guns are so loud！〃 which is another way of saying 〃im so scared。鈥�
it didnt seem nearly as bad by candlelight as it did in the dark。 i was shivering； as if i had a fever； and begged father to relight the candle。 he was adamant： there was to be no light。 suddenly we heard a burst of machine…gun fire； and thats ten times worse than antiaircraft guns。
mother jumped out of bed and； to pims great annoyance； lit the candle。 her resolute answer to his grumbling was； 〃after all； anne is not an ex…soldier！〃 and that was the end of that！
have i told you any of mrs。 van d。s other fears？ i dont think so。 to keep you up to date on the latest adventures in the secret annex； i should tell you this as well。
one night mrs。 van d。 thought she heard loud footsteps in the attic； and she was so afraid of burglars； she woke her husband。 at that very same moment； the thieves disappeared； and the only sound mr。 van d。 could hear was the frightened pounding of his fatalistic wifes heart。 〃oh； putti！〃 she cried。 （putti is mrs。 van d。s pet name for her husband。） 〃they must have taken all our sausages and dried beans。 and what about peter？ oh； do you think peters still safe and sound in his bed？鈥�
〃im sure they havent stolen peter。 stop being such a ninny； and let me get back to sleep！鈥�
impossible。 mrs。 van d。 was too scared to sleep。
a few nights later the entire van daan family was awakened by ghostly noises。 peter went to the attic with a flashlight and scurry； scurry what do you think he saw running away？ a whole slew of enormous rats！
once we knew who the thieves were； we let mouschi sleep in the attic and never saw our uninvited guests again。 。 。 at least not at night。
a few evenings ago （it was seven…thirty and still light）； peter went up to the loft to get some old newspapers。 he had to hold on tightly to the trapdoor to climb down the ladder。 he put down his hand without looking； and nearly fell off the ladder from shock and pain。 without realizing it； hed put his hand on a large rat； which had bitten him in the arm。 by the time he reached us； white as a sheet and with his knees
knocking； the blood had soaked through his pajamas。 no wonder he was so shaken； since petting a rat isnt much fun； especially when it takes a chunk out of your arm。
yours； anne
friday； march 12； 1943
dearest kitty；
may i introduce： mama frank； the childrens advocate！ extra butter for the youngsters； the problems facing todays youth you name it； and mother defends the younger generation。 after a skirmish or two； she always gets her way。
one of the jars of pickled tongue is spoiled。 a feast for mouschi and boche。
you havent met boche yet； despite the fact that she was here before we went