I am the little girl that my mother was pregnant with when she left Germany on the ship Italia. I was born nine weeks premature in Detroit, Michigan. Life was still hard for my mother. She was in a new country, she didnt speak the language, and she had just given birth to a baby two months early. Her memories of the baby girl who had died just two years prior in Germany were still fresh in her mind. My parents took me home after signing a paper saying that they were taking me home at their own risk. They put me in an open drawer in an old dresser and used it as my bed. I am now in my sixties. I had no intention of ever writing a book, nor am I a writer. But I have felt compelled to tell my mothers story. One day while I was living in South Africa, my mother came to visit. We watched a World War II movie, and after the film I went to bed. My mother stayed up and told my daughter many stories about the war. The next day, my daughter got up early and ran to my room. She asked me if my mother had ever told me any of these stories. I was in complete disbelief. When my mother woke up, I asked her why hadnt she told me any of this. She said, You never asked. I quickly told her to write down all she could remember. She told me that she had a diary where she kept all her memories. Well, the rest is history. Here I have documented the story of my mothers life. I feel its a story that needs to be told. There are many young girls that have went and are going through war. They all have their story to tell. This is one of the girl from Berlin.