Thirtieth 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. Her third child, a son, was born there in February 1916. The family has now relocated to a home near Valmiera. For more background, see here, and click on the tag “diary entries” to see all of the entries that I have posted.
November 20, 1916
We were at church at 6pm, where they had organized a musical liturgy service. The Old Valmiera church was full to the last spot. Artists Kornets and Mediņš participated with musical presentations. These soft sounds awakened a deep religious feeling. No eye stayed dry. One could cry from the heart. Everyone was thinking of their loved ones who rest in the cold sands – about all of them. Pastor Pavasars reminded us of the fallen soldiers with an enthusiastic and moving speech. No one to tidy the sand on their graves, only the wind to move it, only the rays of the sun to greet them, I suppose also my brother’s grave, for it has been a whole year since we have heard anything from him.