My Granddad was in a prisoner of war (POW) camp. They had to endure hard labour, hard labour that you or me could never imagine. This was in a factory. Surprisingly in this factory there were not just prisoners but local people from the villages nearby, just doing their average days’ work. One of these people was a very beautiful young woman who did a very good deed, a deed that could never be forgotten. Every single day she would come and talk to the prisoners to keep their hopes up, she would come to my granddad and give him a tiny little piece of bread. You may think that this small piece of bread would do nothing but in fact it made all the difference. My amazing great granddad survived the war.