In the winter of ’38, word filtered through. I’m not sure whether it was the manager at the mines or a local person. I really don’t know. But, my father had to hide. And an old man – he must have been a local old man – he said to my father, “Go into the forest.” We were surrounded by wild countryside. And he told him about a wooden hut in the forest. And my father spent quite a few weeks there, hiding in the forest. And he got double pneumonia. And that, of course, was when my mother became very determined. We were not going to stay. We were going to try and get out of Poland.