On June 12, 1942, Anne Frank received a diary for her 13th birthday and began writing about her life as a Jewish girl in Amsterdam under Nazi occupation. For 761 days, hidden in a secret annex, she recorded fears, hopes, first love, and the terror of living locked up with seven other people in a space smaller than an apartment.
On August 4, 1944, the Gestapo broke into the hideout and dragged all eight out. Anne was only 15 years old. The diary was left lying on the floor of the annex and was found by Miep Gies, a friend of the family who risked her own life hiding them for almost two years. At the end of this story, I’m going to tell you where the Gestapo took Anne Frank, what she faced in the last months of her life, and why she died just weeks before being liberated, when the war was practically over.
The Frank family was celebrating June 12, 1929. Life for a Jewish family living in Frankfurt, Germany, was becoming happier at that moment.
“I came into the world as a girl who would be named Annelies Marie Frank,” our protagonist. At that moment, no one could have imagined that the birth of that child, celebrated simply among family members, would be linked to one of the best-known and most impactful stories of the 20th century. A journey that, years later, would symbolize both the hope and the brutality of one of the darkest periods in human history.
Up until then, the world around the Franks seemed quite stable and, in a way, predictable. Otto Frank, Anne’s father, is a cultured man with very firm principles, who deeply believes in Germany as his homeland. He values education, discipline, and honest work as fundamental pillars for building a dignified life.
Edith Frank, the mother, raises her children with a lot of love, but also with a sense of responsibility and organization. Margot, three years older than Anne, is serious, studious, and lives a more discreet life, often preferring the tranquility of books to more boisterous games. Anne, on the other hand, is the opposite.
Curious, talkative, full of energy, and with a vivid imagination. She makes friends easily, enjoys talking, and observing everything around her, demonstrating from a very young age a special interest in words and stories. Even back then, she dreamed of being a writer. Although they didn’t know exactly how this dream might come true in the future, the family lives in the Merwedeplein neighborhood, in a quiet area of the city.
The children in the neighborhood play in the garden almost every day, running between the houses and sharing games, laughter, and small adventures typical of childhood. The Franks are Jewish, but they lead a more liberal life, fully integrated into the country where they live. They are friends with both Jewish and non-Jewish families.
They frequent the same spaces, participate in the same activities, and share the same daily routine. Religious differences never seemed to truly matter, neither to them nor to their neighbors. The feeling was one of belonging, as if this was undoubtedly the place where they could build their future safely, but only up to that point.
We then move on to January 30, 1933, a date that would change everything. And the reason is simple. This is the moment when Adolf Hitler is appointed Chancellor of Germany by then-President Paul von Hindenburg. Within weeks, the Nazi regime begins to dismantle the civil rights of the entire population.
Laws are beginning to restrict basic freedoms. Political opponents are persecuted and silenced. And the first concentration camps were created to house those considered undesirable by the new government: political opponents, homosexuals, gypsies, Jehovah’s Witnesses, among others. The machinery of exclusion begins to operate slowly at first, almost imperceptibly to some, but always in a methodical and relentless manner.
Otto Frank understands the signal. He realizes that this political change is neither temporary nor limited to the realm of discourse. In September of that same year, he decided to leave alone for Amsterdam, in the Netherlands, where he opened a branch of the company Opekta, which specialized in the production of pectin, used in the manufacture of jams.
Edith and the girls arrive soon after, leaving behind the house, the friends, and the city where they had built their lives until then. The Franks are among the approximately 300,000 Jews who fled Nazi Germany between 1933 and 1939, seeking refuge in other countries in Europe and beyond. In Amsterdam, the girls enroll in Dutch schools, make new friends, learn the language, and try to adapt to their new routine.
Life finds a different rhythm, more uncertain, but still possible. In 1938, Otto founded a second company, Pectacon, expanding their commercial activities. Gradually, the family begins to breathe again, trying to rebuild what had been interrupted. But, unfortunately, this feeling of peace would not last forever.
The German invasion then arrives on May 10, 1940. German planes begin crossing the border into the Netherlands, and the sound of engines in the sky disrupts the routine of thousands of families who were still trying to maintain some sense of normalcy amidst the growing tension in Europe. The Luftwaffe uses paratroopers to capture strategic points on Dutch soil, while air strikes hit important cities.
The bombing of Rotterdam is devastating. Much of the city’s historic center was destroyed in a matter of hours in an attack that shocked the world with its speed and scale of destruction. Faced with the threat that Utrecht would be the next target, Dutch forces surrendered on May 15, after only 5 days of combat. Anne Frank is 10 years old.
The regime that their family had left behind in 1933 catches up with them again, precisely in the place they had chosen as their home, as a refuge, as a new beginning. What once seemed distant, confined to the memories of Germany, is returning to everyday life with alarming speed. The Nazi occupation soon revealed its true intentions.
Jewish civil servants are dismissed from their positions. Businesses owned by Jews need to be registered and are progressively subject to confiscation. Parks, cinemas, and establishments frequented by non-Jews become prohibited. Anne is forced to leave her school and attend an exclusively Jewish institution, separating herself from classmates with whom she had formed bonds in previous years.
Within a few months, virtually every sphere of daily life became subject to some kind of restriction for the Jewish population, from the right to frequent certain public spaces to the freedom to move freely in the streets. But, as they say, nothing is so bad that things can’t get any worse. In 1941, the situation worsened even further.
Jewish men begin to be arrested during night raids and deported to the Mauthausen concentration camp in Austria. Among those captured are friends and acquaintances of the Frank family. Shortly after, reports of deaths began to arrive, spreading fear and uncertainty among those who remained at large. Otto Frank tries to obtain visas for the United States and Cuba in the hope of leaving Europe with his family before it’s too late.
The problem is that the requests were denied. A new law came into effect in the Netherlands in 1942. All Jews were required to sew a yellow six-pointed star onto their clothing. Starting May 5th, anyone found without the symbol could be arrested and detained for up to six weeks. The emblem, which once represented faith, is transformed into an instrument of public humiliation and social control.
Anne turned 13 on June 12, 1942. Among the presents she received was a notebook with a red and white checkered cover. She begins writing immediately that same day, recording thoughts, feelings, and events that she couldn’t share with anyone else. This is the last birthday she will celebrate in freedom.
The summons and the hiding place. Still in June 1942, someone in the family would receive some harsh news. It wasn’t Otto, but Margot. She was summoned by the Nazis and was supposed to report to one of the labor camps of the Third Reich. The Franks knew exactly what that would mean.
They had heard the stories. They had also seen many friends disappear overnight, without explanation, without goodbyes. The decision was then made to flee. They carried everything they could and walked to number 263 Prinsengracht, the address of Otto’s office in Amsterdam. At the back of the building, accessed by a carefully positioned revolving bookcase, was a set of hidden rooms.
Otto had secretly prepared that place in the preceding months, anticipating that at some point there would be no other choice. This would be their home for the next 761 days. A week later, the Van Pels family arrived: Hermann, Auguste, and young Peter, who was 16 years old. The space, which was already quite limited, would need to be divided. In November 1942, Fritz Pfeffer joined them, a dentist and family friend.
Eight people, three floors, unable to make noise between 8:30 and 17:30, the hours when the workers from the warehouse below were present. During those hours, even the firmest steps could be dangerous. Survival depended on six helpers: Miep Gies, Johannes Kleiman, Victor Kugler, Bep Voskuijl, and other employees.
They risked their own lives every day, bringing food, clothing, and news from the outside world. The punishment for hiding Jews was death. When the workers went out for lunch, some of the helpers would go up to the secret annex. It was the most anticipated moment of the day. They could talk louder, walk with a little more freedom, and sometimes listen to Radio Oranje, where Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands, exiled in England, sent messages of hope to the Dutch people.
Anne wrote in the morning, afternoon, and evening. The diary was her only space of real freedom. She documented her conflicts with the Van Pelses, her growing closeness to Peter, her arguments with her mother, her admiration for her father, and her dreams of becoming a writer and journalist. She even rewrote parts of her diary when, in March 1944, she heard on the radio that the Dutch Minister of Education was asking citizens to preserve personal documents about the occupation.
Anne imagined that her writings might have historical value someday, and she didn’t even know how right she was. Now let’s find out what happened to the Frank family. The beginning of the tragedy. It was an ordinary Friday, August 4, 1944.
It was still morning when a car stopped in front of number 263 Prinsengracht. Dutch police officers, under the command of SS officer Karl Silberbauer, entered the building after receiving an anonymous tip. To this day, the whistleblower’s identity has not been officially confirmed. Silberbauer and his men went up to the secret annex.
The residents were found. There was no resistance. The children, who had survived for more than two years in almost complete silence, had nowhere to run and no way to react to their unexpected presence. Silberbauer confiscated money and valuables. Papers and notebooks were scattered on the floor during the search. Among them were Anne Frank’s diary and other manuscripts.
When the eight prisoners were taken away, two of the aides, Miep Gies and Bp Voskuijl, went up to the annex and collected the documents before the Nazis completely emptied the place. That gesture would save Anne Frank’s memory. The prisoners were then taken to Gestapo headquarters in Amsterdam and from there transferred to the Westerbork transit camp in the north of the Netherlands.
Conditions were harsh, but still bearable compared to what was to come. Men and women were separated during the day, forced to perform different tasks. At night, Otto could still see Edith, Margot, and Anne. It was the last time the family would be relatively together. Then, in September 1944, a train departed from Westerbork bound for Auschwitz-Birkenau.
The prisoners were transported in cattle cars, with over 1,000 people crammed into tiny spaces, without adequate ventilation, with little water and only one barrel as a communal toilet. The trip lasted three days. Upon arriving at Auschwitz, they were subjected to selection. Nazi doctors assessed who was fit for forced labor and who would be sent immediately to the gas chambers.
According to records from the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum, approximately 350 people from the same transport as Anne were murdered as soon as they disembarked. Among them were children, the elderly, and people already weakened by the journey. Anne, Margot, and Edith were sent to the women’s labor camp.
Otto was separated from them at that moment. He will never see them again. According to survivor testimonies gathered after the war, the three women of the Frank family became inseparable companions in Auschwitz. They protected each other, shared what little they had, and tried to stay close whenever possible. But as we already know, Auschwitz was not built to preserve humanity.
Last winter. We have now reached the beginning of November 1944. Anne and Margot were selected and deported to the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in Germany. Edith stayed behind in Auschwitz-Birkenau. It was the last time the family was separated. Then, on January 6, 1945, Edith Frank died of exhaustion and illness.
Soviet troops liberated Auschwitz three weeks later. Sadly, she did not survive to see the liberation. Bergen-Belsen was one of the most devastating places in Europe during the final months of the war. The camp had originally been built for prisoners of war, but throughout 1944 and 1945 it became overcrowded with Jews transferred from other camps as the Third Reich receded.
Between January and March 1945, trains arrived carrying what were known as death marches, columns of prisoners forced to walk for miles in intense cold, hunger, and constant violence. According to British records from that period, about one-third of the prisoners arrived already dead. Of those who were still alive, almost 80% were unable even to move.
Inside the field, the conditions were practically indescribable. The intense cold of the German winter punished already weakened bodies in overcrowded barracks, where many slept directly on the floor because there were not enough beds. Approximately 200 blankets for tens of thousands of people. Almost no food, insufficient water even for drinking, let alone for maintaining basic hygiene.
And in that scene of neglect, a typhus epidemic spread unchecked. The daily death rate at Bergen-Belsen, according to British military reports compiled after the liberation, ranged between 250 and 300 deaths per day. Anne Frank and Margot were in that field. Nanette Blitz was a childhood friend of Anne Frank.
The two had attended the same school in Amsterdam before the war. In Bergen-Belsen, they were reunited not as classmates, but as prisoners. In her testimony, preserved by the Anne Frank House, Nanette described what she saw.
Anne was bald, malnourished, and trembling. The energy that had defined that girl for years—her constant curiosity, her easy laughter, her desire to write about everything—seemed to have disappeared. In that place was someone who barely recognized herself, physically frail and emotionally exhausted. She told Nanette that she believed her parents were dead.
She also said that she no longer had the will to live, but added one thing: that she still hoped when the war was over to write a book based on her diary. Even there, amidst the collapse, the idea of transforming her words into something greater still survived. Gena Turgel, another survivor of Bergen-Belsen who worked at the camp’s makeshift hospital, also remembered Anne in a later testimony.
She described her as being in a critical state, delirious, with a high fever, burning from the inside out. Gena brought water so that she could wash herself. That was all she could do at that moment. A simple, almost minimal gesture, but profoundly human. It wasn’t enough. Then came the end. Margot died first.
Weakened beyond what the body could sustain, she fell out of the bunk bed during the night. The impact, combined with her extremely weak state, proved fatal. Anne died shortly afterwards. The accounts vary—the following day or a few days later. Both succumbed to typhus sometime in February 1945. For a long time, it was believed that the sisters had died shortly before the liberation of Bergen-Belsen on April 15, 1945.
Later research, including analyses carried out by the Anne Frank House, indicates that death likely occurred weeks earlier, still in February, when conditions in the camp were at their peak of collapse. Anne Frank was only 15 years old. Otto, her father, managed to survive. She and Margot were buried in mass graves, like millions of other Holocaust victims. They were reduced to numbers in reports, to names on transport lists, and silence.
Otto’s fate. Soviet troops managed to liberate Auschwitz-Birkenau on January 27, 1945. Anne’s father, Otto Frank, was there. He traveled the long way back to the Netherlands, arriving on June 3, 1945, nine days before what would have been Anne’s 16th birthday.
He learned along the way that Edith had died. Still, he held onto the hope that his daughters were alive in some other camp, waiting to be rescued. In July 1945, that wait was over. Miep Gies waited for Otto with a box of documents she had picked up from the floor of the secret annex that day in August 1944. She had kept them unread, hoping to return them to Anne; now she was handing them over to the only surviving member of the family.
Otto took weeks to find the courage to read. When he finally did, he discovered a daughter he didn’t fully know—her depths, her inner conflicts, her lucid and, at the same time, generous vision of the world around her. He discovered a writer and also discovered her expressed desire for her stories to one day be published.
And so it happened. In 1947, the first 3,000 copies of “Het Achterhuis,” known worldwide as Anne Frank’s Diary, were published in the Netherlands. Since then, the book has been translated into more than 70 languages and has become one of the most impactful works in contemporary history. In 1960, the building at Prinsengracht 263 was transformed into a museum, the Anne Frank House.
There, it’s still possible to see Anne’s room with its walls covered in the photos and postcards she collected. In addition to the original notebooks in which she wrote, there is an excerpt from the diary written on July 15, 1944, just three weeks before her arrest, which is often cited.
Anne wrote that, despite everything, she still believed that people were good at heart. She was wrong about a lot of things that would come later, but it’s possible she was right about this. And perhaps that is why we keep returning to her words, not to find ready-made answers, but to remind ourselves that the question remains urgent.
“How can we prevent this from happening again in the future?” Anne Frank died in February 1945, but her voice was never truly silenced.
