They call themselves "The Boys," though there are a few women among them. In 1945, they numbered just 732 - most in their teens, some as young as twelve. They came from Poland and Hungary, from the working poor and the well-to-do, but they all shared one bond: they were the remnant, among the very few Jews to survive the death camps. From 1939 to 1945, they had endured the ghettos and roundups, the deportations, camps, slave labor, and forced marches that so decimated European Jewry.

What they witnessed in those years ought to have left them pathologically dehumanized. For its sheer savagery and degradation, theirs was a life in hell. Most of them witnessed the murder of their loved ones, many lost entire families, all had their childhoods stolen. In May 1945, starved and alone, they had drifted into Prague. And it was there that they came together.

The Boys is their story. Recreating the nightmare years in their own voices, it tells of violation and horror. But it also tells of the spiritual legacy these children carried with them, a legacy that helped them not only survive but, as well, to repair their lives and regenerate their souls. As such, it is a tale of the enduring triumph of the human spirit.

In 1945, Britain offered to take in 1,000 young survivors. Only 732 could be found. Flown to England, they became a close-knit band of friends; even as some migrated to America and Canada, that bond held, and is, today, celebrated annually at a reunion dinner commemorating their liberation. For twenty years, the distinguished historian Martin Gilbert has been attending the reunions, and three years ago it was suggested that the boys send him their recollections.

Many had never before spoken of their wartime experiences; to dwell on these had been far too painful. But overcoming emotional obstacles, they offered their stories.