War Diaries, 1939-1945

by Astrid Lindgren

  We marked Easter in our customary way. There’s a lot of food in the land of Sweden, and I’ll write down what we had, as guidance for future Easters. On Good Friday, completely untraditional calves’ liver, on Easter Saturday, as usual, eggs and a smörgåsbord (home-made liver pâté, herring salad, marinated Baltic herring, cold poached Baltic herring, pickled herring, smoked reindeer, boiled ham with beetroot and I don’t know what else) and ice cream for dessert. And Sture and I had a very posh sherry, because we were celebrating our wedding anniversary that day rather than on the 4th. On Easter Day we had roast chicken and on Easter Monday pork chops.

  On Easter Saturday, Lasse claimed he had an invitation to a dance at some girl’s place in Tureberg; I told him he was to be home by 1 o’clock. But he didn’t get back till 4, I was beside myself and had rung round, waking everybody up, and discovered from Göran that he was at the Winter Palace with a girl called Britta-Kajsa Falk.

  Karin’s very nervy and I had my hands full with her over Easter. She’s not much better now, either; I think it must be the after-effects of the measles, though she was pretty dotty even before that, of course. Since I’m tied to the flat thanks to my foot, she certainly can’t be anxious on my account, but her mental state is terribly volatile, swinging from jittery high spirits to deep dejection and moaning about school and about having to play the piano. I’m feeling quite down myself at the moment, presumably because I haven’t been able to go out for three weeks. And I hope to God that Karin will soon get better, because it’s awful having her like this and I feel so sorry for her, too. Lasse’s living it up and always seems to be invited out somewhere; can’t settle when he’s at home, either, it seems to me, which makes me very sad.

  23 APRIL

  On Saturday night Moscow Radio read out a declaration about the Finnish–Russian peace negotiations. It said that the Finnish response on 8 March was considered unsatisfactory and that Russia’s conditions, which had been delivered to Paasikivi, represented its minimum demands. A Finnish delegation then went to Moscow and conferred with Molotov on 27–28 March. The following conditions were delivered to the delegation:

  [Press cuttings from Svenska Dagbladet, 23 April 1944: list of seven conditions plus short accompanying piece, ‘Sharp Russian declaration on the Finnish question’.]

  21 MAY

  This blessed invasion that’s been hanging in the air for several years now but never happens! There’s talk of ‘D-Day’ and ‘H-Hour’, but nothing happens. Several different dates have been identified, but I reckon any invasion is going to be a long time coming. I think it’s a war of nerves to keep the Germans tied up in the West.

  [Press cutting from Dagens Nyheter, 21 May 1944, captioned by Astrid ‘The story of “Lili Marlene”, the hit song of the Second World War’.]

  Although ‘Lili Marlene’ fever has abated now, I’ve included this cutting, because the tune will forever be linked with the Second World War, just as ‘Tipperary’ and ‘Madelon’ belong to the First.

  I’ve also put in Ivar Harrie’s review of Der letzte Jude aus Polen [The Last Jew from Poland, published as The Promise Hitler Kept] because it gives some idea of how the Germans ravaged that poor country. I don’t doubt for a moment that this it’s a true account; I’ve just been reading Norwid’s book Landet utan Quisling [The Land without Quisling] (Poland) and the details of the atrocities tally. I don’t think the Germans even bother to deny that the Jews have been exterminated.

  [Unidentified press cutting. Review by Ivar Harrie of Stefan Szende’s book The Promise Hitler Kept.]

  Karin was ten today, the fifth of her birthdays we have had to celebrate in wartime. Or rather, that’s claiming too much; here at home we have peace, thank goodness, though it seems to have been touch and go this spring. The Allies disapproved strongly, and no doubt still do, of our export of ball bearings to Germany. But after all, the attack (which was perhaps feared) would have come from Germany; I don’t understand what they’d gain by attacking us, but then nobody’s asking me to.

  To get back to Karin’s birthday, we marked it in the usual way. Her presents included Folkskolans läsebok [The Elementary School Reader] in three parts, a Peter No-Tail book and the manuscript of ‘Pippi Longstocking’ in a smart black file. Also a swimsuit (seersucker), white canvas shoes with wooden soles, some blouse fabric, books from the Viridéns and Gullanders, plus money from Granny and Grandad and from Grandmother. She also had a new strap for her watch. Pelle [Viridén], Alli, Peter (Matte wasn’t well) and Elsa-Lena came round for coffee and cake. It’s been a cold, gusty day like nearly all the rest this spring; generally, summer arrives on Karin’s birthday. Tomorrow we’ve got some girls from her class coming, which she’s quite anxious about (what with being so nervy this term). She didn’t want to invite them all but she’s worried about what those she didn’t will say.

  Lasse’s been in bed for the past fortnight with a ‘pretty decent’ bout of influenza, running a temperature that went up to 40°. He’s supposedly better now but still has a cough. He wanted to go to the pictures last night, his first day out of bed, and there was a great slam-banging of doors when I wouldn’t let him go despite persistent pestering on his part. But I expect he was a bit peeved after all that time stuck in bed.

  6 JUNE

  INVASION – finally! Allied troops, with support from the air, have landed in north-western France. Thousands of troop ships and thousands of planes crossed the Channel early this morning.

  General Eisenhower addressed the occupied countries (we heard it too), as did King Haakon. Hitler has apparently made himself commander-in-chief of the German forces. This is a historic date and must surely be the prelude to an even bigger push. It’ll be thrilling, just thrilling, to see how things go. The Allies have a huge advantage in both sea and air power.

  Personally I’ve been in a foul mood this Swedish Flag Day and invasion day. Lasse came home yesterday with absolutely lousy final grades and will have to retake the year. And the place has been in a mess while I get ready for the trip to Vimmerby the day after tomorrow. Karin’s exams are tomorrow.

  The Allies have marched into Rome! And so, finally – the INVASION!

  13 JUNE

  For the past couple of days a Russian offensive has been under way on the Karelian Isthmus. The Russians clearly intend to force the Finns into subjugation now. The attack seems to have come quite unexpectedly and the Russians have broken through in several places and crossed the 1939 border. There’ll be loads more Finnish children coming over here now.

  The bridgehead in Normandy has deepened and widened in all directions. German resistance has hardened, but it still looks as if things are going the Allies’ way. I can’t keep up with operations in detail. On the news they were talking about Bayeux, Caen, Carentan and so on. Churchill went there on a visit and gave the V sign.

  The kids and I are at Näs, enjoying our holiday in spite of really awful weather. It’s poured and poured and poured with rain. But this afternoon it was quite warm and fair so Stina and I went for a lovely walk through Kohagen and down to the railway (passing a ditch that was simply full of Primula farinosa and we found a bird’s nest at the edge), then down to Stångån [river], over the railway bridge, on to Nybble and then home. Nature really is in its finest raiment just now. Tonight Lasse had an evening out at Folkets Park with Stina and will very likely be home late. Karin’s living a very happy and carefree life, not clinging to me at all. Tomorrow we’re cycling to Målen. Karin got good marks as usual, including three Abs [pass with merit], I think it was.

  MIDSUMMER DAY

  This is more or less what’s happened since last time. The Russian offensive on the Karelian Isthmus has continued unabated. Russian gains include Vyborg [Viipuri], alas and alack! Things look bad for the Finns. There’s been a government crisis looming for a while. Tanner and Linkomies will have to go before there can be peace with Russia.

  In Normandy, around 30,000 Germans are cut off on the Cherbourg peninsula, where
they’re holding their positions so far.

  The Germans have come up with a new kind of devilry, namely robot planes, which fly in over England and cause explosions and huge fires. The British are highly indignant because the planes, being unmanned, can’t be aimed at military targets and so cause indiscriminate damage.

  Those are roughly speaking the most important things that have happened recently, I think.

  And Lasse and I took ourselves off on a cycling trip: Virserum – Skirö – Holsbybrunn – Fagerhult – Kråkshult – Vimmerby. It was fine and warm both days and we dropped in on Mum and Dad in Holsbybrunn. And Småland was a delight, so beautiful.

  Karin seems very good at falling off her bike and keeps grazing her legs.

  19 JULY

  Blood is spilt, people are maimed, misery and despair are everywhere. And I simply don’t care. I’m only interested in my own problems. I always try to write a few words about what’s been happening since my last entry. But now I can only write: a landslide has engulfed my existence and left me alone and shivering. I shall try to ‘bide my time and wait for dawn’, but what if no dawn comes?

  I shall try to make myself write a little about what’s happening in the world, anyway.

  The Russians have made amazing gains and are already in the Baltic states, which the Germans certainly seem to propose giving up. The Russians are now extremely close to the East Prussian border. Things aren’t going that fast in Normandy, but they are making progress there, too.

  Representatives of the Finnish government went to see Ribbentrop and sealed the alliance with Germany still further. As a result, the USA has finally broken off diplomatic relations.

  That’s all I can remember. I’m in a state of agony, my heart aches so much – where will I find the strength to go back to town and pretend to live a normal life?

  2 AUGUST

  Alone at Dalagatan with bitter despair in my heart, Karin at Solö, Lasse in Näs, Linnéa on holiday, Sture?

  There have been major developments, but I haven’t felt like writing. Even something as remarkable as an attempt on Hitler’s life hasn’t stirred me into action.

  And today it says in the paper that Finland’s Ryti-Linkomies cabinet has stepped down. That is, Ryti was president, wasn’t he? But now it’s Mannerheim instead. The new government will try to get peace with Russia, of course.

  ‘Turkey breaks with Germany,’ the billboards say this evening. So things could all fall apart at any time.

  Just as they have fallen apart for me.

  23 AUGUST

  Paris is liberated from the Germans. After four years’ captivity. I remember the day we read on the billboards that the swastika was flying on the Eiffel Tower. That must be centuries ago.

  27 AUGUST

  The other day – the 23rd, I think – Romania surrendered and went so far as to declare war on Germany.

  It seems inconceivable that Germany will hold out much longer. I found a good account of the war in the Dagens Nyheter Sunday supplement today. I’ll paste it in, but first let me put in a gentleman who was on the ‘Names in the News’ page of Dagens Nyheter the other day.

  [Press cutting from an undated article headed ‘Culture Bus’, with photo of Sture Lindgren, about how the Swedish motorists’ association is planning for the end of the war.]

  The original himself had gone astray. And I was sorely afflicted.

  Today – this hot August Sunday – Ingvar, the children and I went to Skansen.

  7 SEPTEMBER

  The war is just past its fifth birthday and everything’s happening at once; it’s such a shame I’m in no fit state to write much about it.

  Finland has broken with Germany, and a ceasefire with Russia has come into force. (On 4 September, I think.)

  Bulgaria has broken with Germany, too; and in fact declared war.

  The first German cities have been taken by the Allies.

  The Russians are on the march through Eastern Pomerania. It can’t be long before the Germans give up.

  15 SEPTEMBER

  This evening’s papers say it’s war between Finland and Germany. German naval forces attempted to land at various points last night. Peace negotiations between Russia and Finland are in full swing.

  [Short, unidentified, incomplete press cutting about Europe marching on Germany.]

  30 OCTOBER

  I make entries in here more and more rarely. I’ve got so much else to think about and I’ve been in such a state of nervous tension all autumn that I couldn’t bring myself to write anything. Just at the moment it looks as though the worst crisis might be over, but I can’t really be sure yet whether things are going in the right direction. But there are a few cheering things happening as well.

  [Unidentified cutting: ‘Secondary-school teacher wins first prize in girls’ book competition’. Astrid Lindgren has won the second prize in the competition, run by children’s book publisher Rabén & Sjögren, for a book which the article says will probably be called ‘The Confidences of Britt’.]

  Incidentally, the Russians are fighting in Northern Norway and it looks as though they can forget Finnish independence.

  Letter from a German officer to his Swedish wife. He was killed just afterwards.

  [Typed transcript of a letter from Astrid’s work at the censor’s office. The writer is in a dugout under fire. He suggests a boy’s and a girl’s name for the child she is expecting.]

  [Photograph from Vi magazine of Astrid’s brother-in-law and sister with an old man. Lindgren has copied out the text.]

  A Vimmerby resident currently known across the land is the young author and journalist Hans Håkansson, who has made a name for himself with his novels about stonecutters in Småland and his other stylistically and psychologically well-written books. This year he changed his name and is now known as Hans Hergin. Here we see Hans Hergin and his wife Stina on their way to Vimmerby market, arm in arm with the town’s toughest old boy, 92-year-old Johan Petter Svensson, rarely called anything but ‘Lucke’.

  My very first review.

  [Press cutting from Stockholms-Tidningen, 23 November 1944: ‘Prizewinning books’ includes a positive review of her Britt-Mari lättar sitt hjärta (The Confidences of Britt-Mari).]

  26 NOVEMBER

  On this dark November Sunday I’m writing in front of the fire in the living room while Lasse is getting dressed – it’s 3.30 – and Karin’s in her room, typing (no, she just came to join me!) Sture is not home, far from it. Karin and I went for a walk to Haga cemetery this afternoon.

  Other than that, the world looks roughly like this: there’s appalling misery among the civilian population in Northern Norway, who have been forced to evacuate in the face of the Russian advance. There’s terrible hardship in Holland too, in fact where isn’t there terrible hardship? It seems to be everywhere. In West Germany it’s ghastly, with the persistent bombing, and what’s more the Allies are now on German soil.

  Hitler is saying absolutely nothing, to the whole world’s amazement. The Nazis had some kind of jubilee recently and Hitler didn’t speak at that either, but Himmler gave an address and said Hitler had so much to do at headquarters that he hadn’t got time to make a speech to the people. And the people, dreading the sixth winter of the war, could certainly have done with a word from their Führer.

  The Gotland ferry the Hansa went down a few nights ago on the way from Nynäshamn to Visby. Presumably it was torpedoed. Two were rescued but about 100 people went down with the ship. It’s the worst disaster to befall Sweden in modern times.

  The Germans announced a while ago that the whole Baltic outside territorial waters was to be viewed as a war zone. Sweden protested. This is probably their response to our protest, I imagine.

  17 DECEMBER

  How about writing something in this little book? I’m sitting alone in front of the fire this third Sunday in Advent. Lasse’s at the pictures, Karin round at Matte’s making ‘Christmas tree baskets’. Sture’s in Göteborg, unless he’s ba
ck by now. In exactly a week’s time it will be Christmas Eve, and yesterday a hamper arrived from Vimmerby bringing ham, salt beef, pig’s liver, shoulder of pork and more besides, so we won’t starve during the abattoir-workers’ strike.

  It doesn’t look as if there’ll be peace just yet. German resistance in the West has intensified, and in spite of the terrible bombing it seems their will to go on fighting can’t be crushed that easily. The Russians are pushing forward: Budapest is clearly being razed to the ground. In Greece, revolutionary troops have been fighting back against the British invasion corps and the puppet government; the Russians are probably behind it. In Northern Norway only an invasion can save hundreds of thousands from starving to death, it said in the paper the other day. There’s such horrific and desperate need all over Europe that one simply can’t take it in. Except here! The sixth Christmas of the war will be celebrated as usual. How the celebrations will go in the Lindgren family is perhaps a bit more problematic. But I hope things will go well. Meanwhile, I’m really pleased about ‘Britt-Mari’.

  CHRISTMAS DAY

  ‘I am acutely aware that these must be the happiest years of my life, surely nobody can do as well as this in the long run? I’m fully expecting that trials will lie ahead.’ That was what I wrote last Christmas Day. I didn’t know how right I was. Trials did lie ahead – but I still wouldn’t say I’m unhappy. I’ve had a hell of a six months this second half of 1944 and the ground beneath me has been shaken to its very foundations; I’m disconsolate, down, disappointed, often melancholy – but I’m not really unhappy. There’s still so much to fill my existence. By any standards it should have been an awful Christmas – and it’s true I shed some bitter tears into the herring salad when I was making it on the 23rd, but I was so exhausted at that point that it doesn’t count. And besides, if happy is synonymous with being fortunate, then I suppose I’m still ‘happy’. But being happy isn’t that simple. There’s one thing I’ve learnt – if you’re to be happy, it has to come from inside you and not from another person. In spite of everything, I think I’ve done pretty well at finding things to be happy about. But I have a feeling I may be put under even more pressure and then we’ll see how clever I am.