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Title: Modris Eksteins and I have the same scars.
Review: Modris Eksteins and I have the same scars. I remember him as a little boy from the D.P. camp in Lubeck where his mother, Biruta, was my girl scout leader. His book focused and gave framework to the glimpses of horor and feelings of despair that are a large part of the memories of my childhood. It explains the cynicism and wariness that even as a young girl I had for the noble sounding rhetoric of war like "death with honor" and "national pride". Invaders and liberators are all the same. All wars are death, destruction and despair and sow the seeds for other wars to come. I now fully understand where my mother got the desperate courage to leave Latvia with two small children and only with what we could carry to go a strange land where she knew no one, barely spoke the language, and was not welcome. The book tells our story including the gallows humor that is the flimsy armor of those from whom everything has been taken.
