Micheal Morpugo

I remember reading, a long time ago, a book about a yellow shirted little girl whose town citizens were all killed or deported. It happened in WW2. That remarkable little girl hid in a public bathroom while she heard the rest of her town being deported and shot. Her family was dead. Her friends were dead. Not one soul was still alive or in the town. Only the Nazis. She cried, and cried, and cried. However, a soldier discovered her but, surprisingly, he was very nice. He told her to run away as fast as she could and hide wherever she could. He gingerly took care of her and she was forever grateful for that.