As is always a good sign, I managed to steam through this book in 3 days, despite the fact that I’ve been working full time at the moment. Seriously, I found this book difficult to put down, and one of those occasions when you are truly sad to finish it. Compounding this is the fact that we get no subsequent biographical information of the author (although I both respect and understand her right to choose this). I’ve tried not to give too much away as to events of the book. The author – then a 34-year-old journalist – started this eight-week diary in April 1945, as the Russians were encircling Berlin and the city's (mostly female) inhabitants was heading to its cellars to wait out the fighting. The scarcity of food meant that anyone able-bodied took to looting buildings for food of any kind. However, soon the Red Army arrived and soldiers were everywhere. With an astonishing degree of bluntness, she describes the plundering of her neighbourhood when Berlin was conquered and Soviet ...