This is the story of how the paternal grandparents of the author survived the Holocaust and eventually made their way to Israel and then the United States. In addition to telling their stories, Michael Benanav tells how he tries to confirm parts of their stories by following in their footsteps to Romania, Russia, and Hungary. The stories of their survival and subsequent journeys to Israel and the U.S. are interesting, even fascinating in places. The trouble I had was that Michael didn't talk about being able to prove their stories in any kind of historical way. Maybe that's understandable for his grandmother because she was Romanian and her story generally didn't cross the Germans army. Her displacement, weeks-long march, and subsequent imprisonment was at the hands of the ruling despot of Romania, himself rabidly anti-Semitic. Perhaps there were few records of that period listing the names of those Jews who were removed from their homes, marched hundreds of miles into what is now Russia, and then left to fend for themselves if they could. Certainly Michael never relates that his grandmother was counted, tattooed, or added to the rolls by the Germans. His grandfather, however, was in the German army, albeit in a Jewish men's division. The Germans kept meticulous records of every person, and every train, where they went, what they were fed, what they did, etc. Why no discussion of those records of his grandfather? Without that kind of proof we are left with just the memories of two elderly people. Human memory is fluid and unreliable. At one point late in the book, Michael relates an argument between his grandparents about whether an incident late in their years in Israel happened before or after the birth of their first child. That was many, many years after the Holocaust, but they still couldn't remember for sure. So what of their memories of earlier incidences? Nonetheless, this is an interesting and sometimes riveting book. ( )