My grandfather was just seventeen when the Nazi occupied Sibiu. They had taken all the men to concentration camps including him and his father. After weeks of treacherous labor rumors had been passed around that they were all going to be executed. Frightened to death he was crying. But then again he was wondering whether he would like his pain to end. His father said, Teodur (the Romanian way of saying his name Theodor) your life has just begun. I have lived enough, me and the other old people will distract the Germans while you and your friends will run away. But remember, you will have to run as fast as you can. And he did. He ran up the hill with his friends while being shot at. Some of his friends were left behind but he knew that if he stopped they would kill him so he ran and ran and ran until he had reached Bucharest (which was free of German occupation) to his surprise, the priest that tried to run way with him was there and he had been captured. It turned out that he was to be executed but when they shot him the bullet missed his brain and went through his nose and they left him there for night by the time he managed to crawl out onto the road and be helped by a passing truck.
My grandfather had thought that he wouldn't live to tell this story, but to his luck he could.
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