All the Jews in town were huddled into the Jewish quarter. For the others things got a little worse every day, but not for my family.
In our town there was a Gestapo officer who loved to play chess. After the occupation began, he found out that my father was the chess master of the region, and so he had him to his house every night.
My father could no longer teach at the high school, but he was now allowed to go around as a private tutor to earn some money.
One Sunday, a Sunday probably much like today, two Gestapo officers went out drinking together and they got drunk... They had an argument.
Theses officers were good friends, so it must have been a terrible argument, because the one who played chess with my father was so angry that he walked over to the dentist's house and got the dentist out of bed and shot him.
This enraged the other Nazi so much that the next morning he came to our house and he shot my father.
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