Born to War is intended to, through my eyes as a Berlin child, point out how easily freedom can be lost, and the pain and suffering required to regain that lost freedom. It's a message that war does not distinguish between guilt and innocence. The pain and suffering of war is ladled out equally to all in its path. Ours was a constant struggle for survival, for food, water, and warmth, the bare necessities of life. For many months we lived above ground when possible, and below ground when necessary, as hundreds of Allied aircraft dropped bombs on the city both day and night. Fear and fury were my reality during the many hours spent in the musty and uncomfortable bomb shelter. I had not even the luxury of hope for better times, for I had no concept of better times. I knew only war, and the suffering and misery that it brought. The war would end, but misery lasted long after. And death was to remain a constant companion to Berliners due to starvation, hypothermia, suicide and other war-related circumstances. I lost many people dear to me during and in the wake of WWII. Yet I was one of the lucky children born to war who survived. And I survived largely due to the love and care of "Oma," my grandmother, to whom this work is mainly dedicated. It remains very difficult for me to imagine the anguish she must have suffered in that terrible period.