6th April, 1915
Shkotovo

Dear little mouse! The Easter holidays are over. How I used them can be seen on the previous page. On Easter Sunday the weather was fine, on Monday cloudy again and today- Tuesday - we have a lot of deep snow on the ground. I cannot tell you how homesick I have been during those last days. Spring awakening, God remembers nature and brings trees, meadows and fields to new life; rivers and here even the endless sea, which during the long winter months were firmly held under an oppressive ice cover, wake up to new vigorous activity. Have we been forgotten by God? No, no, I cannot believe it; he will remember us again! Today is the last day of Passover. We had a service again and said Maskir. I and all the others were in a pious and festive mood. We said a prayer for all the fallen soldiers. For God's sake, I thought, perhaps you are saying the Yisgadal, Yiskadash for Viktor or for Hugo? I could not restrain my tears. You may have thought also a lot of me in these days. My dearest, we live in hard, sad times. Yesterday a gentlemen who arrived with our transport received his first mail. Now I have been 4 months without news from you. It is hard to imagine and yet nothing can be done about it. Hope and wait! Even this consolation is denied us.

Now it is improbable that we could return home before the end of October. Imagine - 7 more months if I am lucky. It would be so much easier to bear if I knew what you and children are doing, whether everybody is in good health. But what's the use of this moaning and groaning? In the last 4 days about 70 men were buried. When I look at our poor troops my heart is breaking. It is awful to think that Viktor or Hugo may be somewhere in a similar predicament. You see, imagination finds so many ways but most of them are ugly and painful. And in between always a ray of hope: perhaps after all, perhaps not! My treasure, I think of you always and kiss you a thousand times.

© The estate of Otto Feldmann: Monica Lanyado, Tzafrah Shushan and Aya Shochat