Fraternity-Testvériség, 2008 (86. évfolyam, 1-3. szám)
2008-07-01 / 3. szám
MEMBER HIGHLIGHTS heard people walking nearby. Other Hungarians were also stopping to rest and one shouted, “Stop or I’ll fire!” To our surprise, the group was from the Hatvany and two cadets I had formerly seen, said, “Marianna, Tibor was looking all over for you in the dark and cried when he realized you had been separated and he feared he may have lost you. What happened to the others from Hatvany? The Germans said it would be better if we split up and go separately and while you were resting in the woods, we were sent out to do reconnaissance, but we got lost and found you instead.” Now, we were down to five in number and were getting closer to Pilisvorosvar. Since it was nearly day break, we could see a number of people in the snow, walking in the direction of the Hungarian front. 1 was hoping Tibor would be one of them. The snow was deep and since we had been walking for hours, I told the two cadets I couldn’t walk anymore, but they said, “We will carry you. We cannot leave you. What would we tell Tibor-that we left his wife to die in the snow?” So we continued on in the snow until we got closer to the wine cellars near the wine-growing region. It occurred to me that it would be wise not to keep the pistol I carried in my pocket, so I threw it away and placed Tibor’s officer’s cap that I had been carrying on the snow. Pilisvorosvar had been captured by the Red Army so they knew we were fleeing toward Austria. As soon as we approached the closest wine cellar to rest, we heard an approaching tank, so we ran into the cellar which was filled with Hungarian and German soldiers, most of whom were injured. I felt compassion, particularly for one woman who was sitting on the steps. Since the cellar was filled to capacity, we could go no further than the steps. The tank began to fire at the building, the ceiling collapsed, and rubble and dust fell on us. Fortunately, the ceiling over the steps to the cellar did not collapse, but we were trapped. We gave each other our addresses so if one of us should live through this, we would let the others know. The Russians pushed the nose of the tank through the rubble and then pulled it back. Now, there was a small opening, and one of them called, “Dovaj! Dovaj!” meaning, “Come on! Come on!” At that point, I realized I could say what little Slavic I remembered so I said the word, “Stoj!” and kept repeating it over and over. I felt so scared as this was a life and death situation. The Russians called back “Davaj! Davaj!” The others asked me what they were saying, and I answered, “They want us to come out!” “Marianna, you go first. You can talk to them,” they said to me. I began to crawl out, and the men came after me. I faced two Russians with machine guns with the tank positioned behind them. I had no idea what they were saying, but they motioned for us to hold our arms up. We were walked into town to the Russian Commander’s office and another cellar which was also filled to capacity. We sat down on the top steps looking into the cellar, and I noticed that the Germans outnumbered the Hungarians. One of the injured said he was thirsty so I motioned to the guard for water and he brought a bucket of it. I handed it down for everyone to have a drink. The guard angrily shouted in German that he did not want those people to have a drink so as he grabbed the bucket back, he spilled some of the water. He must have hated the Germans more than the Hungarians, I thought. After a while, one by one, we were taken for questioning to the main building, obviously the home of a once-prosperous farmer who was no doubt serving somewhere on the front. The Commander was a Russian Major and his interpreter was a Hungarian Captain in a Russian uniform. After I answered all his questions, he asked me to sign the paper in front of him. Then I was taken to the end of the house where the guard banged on the door and a middle-aged lady opened it. We looked at each other, the guard said something, and she said in Hungarian, “Come in.” She closed the door and locked it. She said she would share whatever they had with me and introduced me to her mother and two children, a boy of about 12 and a girl about 10. I do not recall what we had for lunch, but she told me her husband was in the Army. Even though the Russians had taken over the house, this family was allowed to stay in this small room. She pointed to the nook by the furnace, a rather narrow place but it was warm. My coat served as my cover, and for about two weeks, I was a prisoner of the Soviets. Daily, others were taken away on Army trucks and I was told they were going to Siberia. One day, a guard banged on the door telling me to go with him. He walked me to the Major’s office and upon entering, the Major asked me if I wanted to go home. I replied, “Yes!” He told me to sign the paper and I would be free! He said, “I have to go to Budapest and you can also go on the cart. I’ll take you back to your mother. Go ahead now-get on the cart.” The guard followed me out. The cart was in front of the entrance, and he motioned me to sit in the back. All this looked strange and uncertain to me as I wondered if they would take me back to Budapest or kill me on the way or dump me off somewhere. The Major got on the cart and next to the driver was also a Russian. The guard sat next to me and off we went. On the side of the road were still some dead Hungarians and Germans and I wondered if Tibor was among them. We continued on to Budapest and the Var where I had left my mother. It took some time for us to get there for the streets were blocked by bombed out buildings and people were carrying away the rubble. It saddened me to see this once lovely capital city in such disarray. 34 WINTER 2008
