Seventeenth installment from the diary of my great-grandfather’s sister Alise, written during the First World War. When the diary starts, she is living just a few miles from the front lines of the Eastern Front, and is then forced to flee with her husband and two young daughters to her family’s house near Limbaži as the war moves even closer. It was here that her third child, a son, was born in February 1916. For more background, see here, and click on the tag “diary entries” to see all of the entries that I have posted.
March 25, 1916
Day of the Annunciation to the Blessed Virgin Mary.
The weather is very nice. I’m sitting in the upstairs room by the window and feeling warm in the spring sun. Olģerts and Dagmāra are sleeping in the middle of the day, so I have some time to write. A week ago we had our son’s christening, very quiet and simple, like the refugees we are. The only guests were uncle Arturs and the pastor. Pastor Sawary from the Aizkraukle congregation – he is also a refugee from the shore of the Daugava, having also left everything behind to the thieves and miscreants – right now he is in Lēdurga, having taken the place of deceased pastor Spalviņš. He is a very nice and pleasant person. At 6pm we christened little Olģerts Georgs. His sister also celebrated her “Gertrude day” [NB:Name day on March 16]. So now all of that is done – now we just need to wait and hope for a better future. The terrible war is continuing its bloody march. We hear about all sorts of horrible events and various war stories. Shortages and rising prices are growing. So long as the children aren’t lacking for bread. My little boy, born during the war. Will he also need to endure the trials ahead? I still sorrow over the small ear, but who knows maybe it will do no harm to him – maybe it will bring luck. How wonderful it will be, to have a grown son, I think he should become a doctor..?