Ramona's Diary is a compilation of diary entries read by Anya Oliwa to B.J. Blazkowicz in Wolfenstein: The New Order. Although not stated directly, the diaries are implied to be written by Anya herself. This is evident by her description of her relationship with B.J., as well as references to stealing her mother's medicines (her mother is a pharmacist). The diaries provides Anya's back story, including why she has decided to join the resistance against the Nazis. On the picture where you read the diaries, what is written is "Nalezy do Anya" which in English means "Belongs to Anya".
Entry #1 Edit
It's in Polish, but I'll translate. Ramona writes:
"May 11, 1940. I've only been back home for three days and now the Nazis
have arrived in town. They killed Jakub Brozek. He was shot in the head. His
horse was blocking the road. He taught me how to French kiss. I'm going to do
something about this situation."
"May 12, 1940. The Nazis have taken over the police station. They are asking
local people to volunteer for service. I'm going to volunteer. I'm going to find a
way to kill them."
"May 18, 1940. Daytime I care for the sick, working at the asylum. On the
evenings, I go to town to prepare supper for the Nazis at the police station. They
seem to trust me. I think I can lure one of them away. If I can get to a Nazi alone, I
think I can kill him. I have never killed anyone. I don't know how to fight or fire a
weapon. I will have to be smart about it. I miss the university. Perhaps, what I'm
about to do will be a learning experience."
"June 25, 1940. The Nazi appears to have a very high opinion of his mother. I
learned this as a he was bleeding to death at the end of my knife at the outhouse
next to the bakery. "Mutti!", "Mutti!" he whimpered. My hands were shaking.
Nearly dropped my knife. I had told him I would kiss him and he let me lead him
outside. Into the night."
"November 29, 1940. The Nazi appears to love his sausage. I learned this as he
kept on eating his supper even though the cyanide must have ruined the flavor.
His eyes rolled back, all white. Yet he kept chewing. The cyanide I stole from
mother's cabinet. At times I am struck with pangs of remorse. But then, I think of
"May 2, 1941. The Nazi appears to become sleepy after climaxing. I learned
this as his little soldiers were leaking out of me onto his sheets. And his face
turned blue, from the rope applied to his neck in his slumber. Tomorrow is my
"May 29, 1941. The Nazi appears to have been brought up lazy. I've learned
this when I outran three of them, carrying a crate of grenades. I think I'm
pregnant. I wish I knew how to use a gun."
"July 6, 1941. The Nazi appears to be overly devoted to his police station. I
learned this while tossing grenades into the building. Seven grenades went in but
not a single Nazi came out. Does killing Nazis make me a murderer? Don't
know. Don't think so. I'm not a soldier, but this is what soldiers do. And I have to
steel myself from emotion, like a soldier does."
"August 9, 1941. The Nazi appears to be highly gullible. I learned this as I
pretended I was drowning and he dove in to save me. Body armor and all. I had
only to apply the gentlest of pressures to push him until he stopped
struggling. I am pregnant. It's not showing but I think mother suspects. I've
decided to find an apartment for myself."
"August 30, 1941. I have my own apartment, two floors above the bakery. I
can't leave this Nazi baby inside me anymore. It has to come out. I took some
pills from my mother's cabinet. They did not work. All they did was make me
"September 3, 1941. The Nazi appears to be a reckless driver. I learned this
after I cut his brake line and his car went over a cliff, as he drove down the
mountain. I didn't see it happen, but there was a picture in the paper. I had a
friend at the university who successfully terminated her pregnancy, through
consumption of Pennyroyal oil. I have written her, for instructions."
September 13, 1941. A letter arrived from London today. I have presumed a vial
of Pennyroyal oil. I have stolen some antibiotics from mother. I won't be coming
to work tomorrow."
"September 14, 1941. Pain unbearable. Won't stop bleeding."
"September 20, 1941. Still alive. The Nazi baby is gone. After the weekend I go
back to work. I have patients to tend to. I have Nazis to kill."
"January 5, 1942. The Nazi appears to have poor reaction time. I learned this as
I ran him over at a red light. I don't know what came over me. It was in the middle
of the day and people were looking. I drove away as fast as I could. I have to
reduce the rate of my attacks, or they will catch me."
"July 9, 1943. The Nazi appears to be made of bacon. I learned this as nine of
them burned alive inside a late night establishment. A lot can be accomplished
with padlocks and gasoline. Father could smell the gasoline on my coat. I lied to
him. He mustn't know what I have done. He's too sensitive."
"July 4, 1944. The Nazi is a hopeless romantic. I learned this while smashing his
skull, using the hammer I had hid behind my back, as he knelt to pick up my
fallen glove. If I was a boy, father would have taught me how to handle a rifle.
But instead I was trained to nurse the afflicted, dig dirt for relics and write
papers. I wish I knew a soldier. He could teach me how not to feel remorse. He
would understand me."
"September 23, 1946. A man came in today. Horrible head trauma. He has
scars all over him. He won't speak. No ones knows where he's from. I think he's a
soldier, but not a Nazi. I wish he could talk to me. He has a strength about him."
"July 10, 1948. The war is over. The Nazis have declared victory. People are
celebrating the peace. I can't stop crying. For me, this war is never ending."
"November 16, 1951. The Nazi appears to have a hot temper. I learned this as I
attempted to smash his head with a flower pot I dropped from my apartment
window. Sadly, I missed. He had friends nearby. They broke my door down. I
said it was an accident but they gave me a black eye and spit on my dress. I
want people on my side I can rely on. My grandparents are on my side. But they
are not fit to fight."
"July 17, 1955. The Nazi appears to be choosy bachelor. I learned this as we
sat on a picnic blanket in the meadow lands. He said he would kiss me, if I
bleached my hair blonde. I was nauseated by his request. But as long as I smile
and hide the hate, no one is suspicious of me. So he drank the wine I spiked with
sedatives. And I rolled him down a shallow grave."
"December 24, 1956. My heart is breaking. Friends I've known my whole life
have all become Nazis. Mother and Father are not happy about it, but they
comply rather than resist. I feign my smile and act cheerful, but I have started to
resent my own parents. I am 33 years old. I am all alone in the world."
"May 6, 1957. I should keep fighting. But who is there to fight? Everyone is a
Nazi now. Or at least they pretend to be. I can no longer tell the difference."
"August 28, 1960. Deathshead's men are coming by the asylum every other
week. They are taking people that have been in my care for years. I look the
other way. I hate them. I hate myself for giving up. But I can't fight alone
anymore. I watch the man with the scars. I whisper things to him. Sometimes I
can see some part of him awake. I wonder if he can see me. I will not let them
That was the last entry, William. Some of the things in this diary happened a
long time ago. And some of them may have happened to me. I miss you. I
missed you a long time before I met you.