Concordia University MIGS

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Table of Contents

Abstract and Key Words

Dedications

Prologue

Chapter One: The Early Years

Chapter Two: Teenager in Budapest

Chapter Three: The Yellow Band. Forced Labour Camp

Chapter Four: Being Mr. Toth Leslie, and Hiding

Chapter Five: Going East For a Long Trip

Chapter Six: Home Alone

Chapter Seven: My Luck. My Destiny

Chapter Eight: Discover Canada

Epilogue

Appendix: Chronicle

 

3. THE YELLOW BAND. FLOWERS. FORCED LABOR CAMP.

Shovels & axes

The Hungarian Government issued an order, that from the age of sixteen until the armed forces called in all the recruits, every young male has to report once a week to a Para-military unit, called "Levente", or in English: Voluntary Cadet Brigade. They drilled like in the Army, ran, hiked, fought, used old single-barrel rifles, and in the advanced group sometimes live ammunition.

After the spring of 1942, the Jewish boys were restricted to serve in these units being not trustworthy for the country. Instead, they created a Special Supplementary Volunteer Labor Service for them.

Once a week we assembled in a school, put on a yellow arm band and picked up some shovels, pick-axes and with armed escorts went to a field, outside the city. On the way the people made nasty remarks about the Jews: enemy of the true Hungarian people. Some even spat on us.

We did dirty, unnecessary earth-moving jobs, digging holes one day, covering up the next time around. The four hours spent there passed slowly, not because of the physical work, but the verbal abuse from the armed guards. They were cruel, uneducated, and took every opportunity to humiliate us. They liked to play tricks on us "filthy, dirty Jews."


The fire brigade

In 1943 I read a poster calling for volunteer fire fighters. Next day I reported to the City Fire Department and a week later I was accepted for training. From now on, I did not have to go to those special units.

The training was very efficient. We learned how to recognize different causes of fire, when to use water, when foam and when other fire retardants. After a week's full-time training, about half of the students graduated and received a document with their picture. I was assigned to a unit at the University's Veterinary Hospital. The rotating schedule consisted of twelve hours duty and twenty-four hours off. When my off time fell on daytime, I would work in our factory. (One shift was daytime the next one was nighttime.) It was not easy, but better than earth moving.

We had a portable, self-standing pump machine, and a truck. They supplied overall work clothes, fireman belt, (very heavy) and everything we needed to fight a fire. We were practicing all the time to be ready to fight small fires. We faced the only problem during air raids, when we had to run kilometers to the station in pitch dark to serve as a backup team. We considered the falling bombs, as a small inconvenience.

I was involved in a few small fires and one of the biggest fires, when a Shell Fuel Depot caught fire. Many units were needed to fight the impossible. On the way to the location, we encountered a close call. A bomb exploded in the next street.

The Eastern front

The date was April 1942, when my father was called again to report to a labour camp. They advised him to take lots of warm clothing. Almost every Hungarian unit was sent to the Eastern front for very hard work. German, Hungarian and Italian brigades fought the Red Army.

The Jewish units were digging trenches, did all the dirty work. Sometimes they had to crawl forward to check whether the place was mined, or not. Many died there, as numerous places were full of land mines.

Sorry to say, but when my father was away, it was a great relief for the family; we had less argument and tension.

In 1943 the Red Army broke through the German lines, pushed the Nazis back from Stalingrad (now it is called Volgograd) with lots of casualties. Many, many Jewish men were killed there. Some units were lucky to be captured by the Soviet units, or some, like my father, who broke away from the Germans and was able to find the partisans. Then they were working for the Red Army, doing about the same thing, but their life was not in immediate danger.

The Red Army was advancing fast suffering heavy losses. They did not trust the Jewish refugees and shipped them eastward, many of them to Siberia. The cold and insufficient food did not sustain them for long. Medical facilities were in limited supply, not only for Jews, but to the local people as well. My father told me; half of the "liberated" Jews died there.

Middle of summer 1943, the Government sent a "sorry" letter to my mother, saying: your husband died in the Ukrainian front, not knowing, that he escaped.

The Dance Studio

Leslie Toth whom I met in the printing shop and played an important role in my later life, was a regular customer in MRS. ADORJAN's DANCE STUDIO; on the corner of Kšrut, and Doh‡ny utca (corner of Circle and Tobacco Street) It was within walking distance from my home. He took me there, introduced me to the head instructor and to the owner, also paid my first dance lesson.

I excelled and at the end of the course they offered me a position with a small pay. It involved teaching in the studio three times a week and dancing with the paying students on Saturday morning for hours. I had to teach ballroom dance to young adults evenings. Sunday at five o'clock, they had ballroom dance for everybody with an entrance fee, but for me it was free. Happily, I took the offer.

I began teaching mostly very young girls how to walk nicely, a few basic steps of ballet. This gave them a better body posture and lot of fun for me.

Ibolya

Evenings, I was teaching ballroom dances to 16 - 20 year old young ladies and young men. A girl came with a round face and nice figure on Saturday morning for the all-student dance. Later I found out, her name was Ibolya Rosner. Her younger brother and her cousin of same age accompanied her.

When my turn came to dance with her, she was shy in the beginning and a slow dancer, but we moved around and chatted away. This went on a few times until one day she introduced to me her brother Andrew Rosner, and her cousin Tibor Weiner. They were very nice people, but had reservations about my fast moving friendship with Ibolya.

I asked her about the Sunday dance, but she declined. Next Saturday they came again, and we danced again, and again. This time she agreed to come Sunday but only with the boys. It was fine with me. I lined up young ladies for them, and I had my chance to dance with Ibolya most of the time.

While I walked home with them, she told me about her family. The father, John (Jancsi) Rosner was a shoe repair supplier (it looks like I moved around only within the footwear trade); he had a store on Baross Street, in the same building, where they had a big three-bed room apartment. Tibor and his parents were living with them. Ibolya's mother, Kate (Kati) and Tibor's mother, Klara were sisters.

Ibolya was working in an art studio, drawing face plates for water and oil pressure gauges. We had a few dates and were dancing as much as was possible. No more escort.

One day, after work, I had a free evening and I decided I would show up unexpectedly at her door. Flowers in my hand, like always, I rang the bell. She was surprised, but not because I came so unexpectedly; in fact, she said that I was welcome, but I failed to shave before I came to see her. I shaved all the time in the morning, or before I went to the studio, unfortunately, not this time.

She asked me very nicely if I want to come back. I ran to the nearest barbershop, had a shave and headed back to her. I was very much welcomed.

Since then I am never unshaven and would do it sometimes twice a day. I learned my lesson in a pleasant way.

The Rosner children and Tibor were constant guests in our home, as we were in theirs. My sister Barbara and Tibor loved each other. We visited museums, sometimes four of us, but mostly Ibolya and me. Concerts and operetta was our best entertainment. In the summer, we went day hiking. We loved nature.

I have never gone to see her without flowers; a bouquet for her, and one in my lapel. I still love cut flowers! Later on, I will return to the story of her life.

A 'sole-mate' invention

In the mean time, we became very busy in our factory. There was shortage in every material, mostly upper leather and hide for leather soles. To replace the upper leather we started to use pig, rabbit and dog skins. To replace the sole leather, we had an invention, worthy to talk about. We bought old, or new canvas and lots of old movie-reels. With acetone, we made a paste from the celluloid films and joined one layer of canvas with one layer of paste, then canvas and paste again. With four or five layers, we had a sheet, pressed it slightly and let it dry. When a sheet became dry and hard, it was ready to cut for soles. We could not produce enough.

The only problem was the heavy fumes; harmful for the lungs. I prepared it in the morning and went skiing, or hiking in the afternoon.

I went to see a doctor to check my lungs; he told me, if I do not stop smoking, within six months I would be dead. I was not a heavy smoker, yet I wanted to show that I was a grownup man. The next minute I gave away my silver cigarette case (it was not mine anyway, it was my uncle's). Since than I have not smoked and avoided smokers, or smoky places.

 

Sometimes you can stop the wind, but a new one just started to blow!

The Horty era

Horty Miklos, our Governor General, who acted like a king, did not cooperate fully with the German Government, and the result was: the German Armed forces occupied Hungary in March 1944.

The "Fifth Column," German sympathizers, the Schwabs (of German origins), and many Hungarian fascists were ready to help the occupation forces. They organized their own police force, did everything possible to push the Jews out of their business, or positions and then expropriated their apartments.

My first encounter with the Military police

In April 1944, they put out posters and published in every newspaper that all the Jewish men of eighteen years and over must report to one of the forced labor camps with one luggage. Those, who ignored the order were rounded up by the most despised Military Police a few days later and taken to their Headquarters.

I was on duty, when I received my order. The Chief of the Fire Department took it away, saying that I have to stay with them. My job was more important, than to be enlisted into a good for nothing camp.

Ten days past when I received another Notice. - Nothing doing -.

Four days later, on May 7.1944 I was on duty again, when armed Military Police came looking for me. I asked them to call my Fireman Superior first. The police ordered me to follow them, while my Superior Officer advised me to stay put. He told them, they need me in the Department. There was lot of yelling, until one of the Police took out his side arm, pointing toward me. I had no choice, but go with them. They escorted me to my home.

Interestingly, they were friendly, laughing a lot about my importance to the country, knowing how strongly they were in control of the situation. They mused, that the Jews controlled not only Hungary, but the whole world. Not so anymore, because the great Hitler and the faithful Hungarians, the true Aryan people took over the reins and dictate their terms to the Jews.

They took away my Citizenship Documents and ordered me to report next morning in an assembly point on a field, outside the city. - There was no cheer in the field.

Unit number 101/301

We were dispatched to one of the locations of an Army Depot on Lehel Street. This Department supplied several Army Units with some food, tools and firewood. Our commanding officer was Lieutenant Ujvary, who in the civilian life was a teacher. He had a plump wife and three young daughters. This officer happened to be a mild mannered man and not a Nazi sympathizer. Consequently, it was easier to deal with him. He was shy enough to keep our meager weekly pay ($1.) in his pocket. We did not complain about being short of money, as most of us had a way to get some spending money.

Our biggest problem was Under Lieutenant Wiesner; a husky killer-type, in full uniform, with a white arm band, indicating that he, his father, or his grandfather was a Jew, but converted to become a true Christian.

He yelled all the time and found extra work for us. He wanted to show that he was a better Hungarian than the best of the real Aryan people. Hitting somebody for fun, kicking without any reason was his contribution to the war effort.

Our unit was divided into four sections; each had about 100 people with a commanding sergeant. Ours wore also a white arm band. His name was Beer. He was much worse than Wiesner, so bad, that upon the transfer of the unit to Germany right after our liberation, he was shot dead by one of the Jewish men.

Me, the boot expert

Upon arrival to our first location on Lehel Street, they asked for a shoemaker, tailor, general repairman and a medic. I volunteered as a shoemaker. Somebody became a self-professed tailor, and George Deutch, a medic. He finished the first year of medical school.

There was no instrument, material, or any necessary fixture. I asked Mr. Ujvary to give me a pass to go home to pick up material and tools for the shoe repair. He failed to question whether I knew anything about boot repair. - I did not!

I went back to my home, bringing lots of food from our kitchen, and material from the factory. I was in the repair business. Most of the time I intentionally found one of the guy's boots beyond repair, giving him a chance to go home and bring a new pair. He received a pass for days to do this.

We were in the Depot approximately for three months, then moved to a new location. It was a tavern before. Four weeks later, the Germans took over the place, and in September, we moved to Gomb Street, into a large building. This was a school before. We set up the shop and everybody was busy. The other units had to work in different places: digging out people and valuables after the air raids, assist Fire and Rescue Units. The work was not easy, sometimes the wall collapsed, or the floor caved in.

My job was easy, repairing shoes and boots, but many times, they needed everybody on the field and I had to join the comrades. Once I was working in a unit whose task was to dig out all the paintings, linen and fine dishes from a high-ranking officer's house, which had had a direct hit during the bombardment.

I noticed, that Mr. Ujvary had an old pair of riding boots. I offered to make a brand new one at no cost to him. Gladly, he said yes. I requested a pass on three occasions to go home for material.

I took the best material for pairs of boots and gave them to a real boot maker. He took the measurements, made an excellent pair of boots, and kept the rest of material for himself. So, I did not have to pay him anything. I made the Lieutenant very, very happy and developed a good relationship with him.

Everyday the camp's kitchen had to deliver food at noon to the units, which were working far away from the camp. One day I asked Mr. Ujvary to give me permission to "help" the kitchen people to deliver the food. He agreed.

The food was carried in three big barrels: One for the soup, one for the "main dish", potato, some meat, and one barrel for chicory coffee.

On a mission, impossible

We went first to my house and gave plenty of food to my mother and sister. The boys left without me. My family needed the extra food. It was a good supplement for a whole week. Later they came back for me, and we returned to the camp, where I finished the daily shoe repairs.

I did this trip on four different occasions, when one day during my stay at home four Military Police entered the building. They were looking for people in hiding, Jews or not, who left the military units illegally. The main gate was locked all the time, and only the superintendent had the key to it.

As soon, as the Police came in, the super's wife told me to run up to the attic, above the 3rd floor, to hide. She opened the lock for me. I heard lots of noise downstairs. By searching every floor, they found some people hidden in different apartments.

They ordered the superintendent to open the attic door. I crawled under the wooden walkway and heard them walk over me- - fortunately unseen. It was so dusty in the attic from the chimneys' soot that they left shortly.

Once the Military Police left, my food delivery unit returned a few minutes later to pick me up. Everybody started to yell my name, and the officer was really mad for wasting so much time. He foresaw some problems for returning late to the Depot.

Finally, I made my way down and reported to him in a military fashion. He asked me, if I were hiding in the chimney? I replied no - otherwise I would be black. He and the whole unit and everybody else in the yard started to laugh. The officer told me to take a look in the reflecting window. I did, and saw a black face, full of black dust. By then I realized, why all the laughter.

Because of this dangerous episode and also much tighter camp security, this was the last time I was able to join the food delivery group.

The Army established a Prisoner Of War camp in the empty side of the building for the Romanian soldiers, who were fighting the German Army.

More inspectors came to check the camp. Our work became harder. More air raids, cleaning up and rescue operations became the order of the day. End of September about 100 Jews, age 18-20, joined us from some broken units. Some others might have been hiding in houses and captured by the city police; they were lucky, not by the Arrow Cross.

In this new group was Tibor, my sister's boyfriend. He was a "Mama's Boy." Delicate as he was, he had to select his socks and shirts by himself the first time in his life. Physical work was very difficult for him. I tried to help him a lot.

The escape

The Red Army crossed the Hungarian border and with heavy fighting, they advanced rapidly. It was October 12, when Ujvary commanding officer called me into his office and said: "My boy! I am sorry to say, that you have to pack your repair shop into boxes - everything. We are not just moving to another location, but will be going very far. If you have some plans in your head, talk to Private Jozsi Denes, a gypsy soldier, and have some money ready. I wish you good luck, and if we survive this unfortunate and terrible war, we will celebrate together. What I said is confidential!"

With a handshake, I said, "Thank you very much, and wish you good luck. You have been a real gentleman. Take care and God bless you."

I told Tibor and eight other close friends, I am planning an escape for good, and will take a chance to be on my own, because the unit will go to Germany the next few days. We will have to pay somebody a ransom to close his eyes over our escape. We put together a large sum of money.

Next evening, I asked Jozsi, the guard, to come to the repair shop, I want to adjust the heel on his boots. I revealed our plan to him and asked for his cooperation. I gave him the money. He was happy with the amount, worth maybe a pig. According to our plan, he will be on duty in days at the side entrance, made up with a fence of wood planks. He will not notice anything for ten minutes. This will be enough time for the ten people to escape by moving away a loose plank.

Everything was set. I put my repair equipment into the boxes, left all my clothes hanging from the nails. At five o'clock in the morning, we left the room very quietly. I organized the movement one-by-one. Jozsi was there as he said. I was the last one to go. One leg was outside, when a German Army unit, about fifty soldiers passed by, looking at me, but not stopping. I was pretending I was repairing the broken fence. In the last seconds of the ten minute pause, I was outside! - Close call!

I removed the yellow band. With money in my hand, I took the first streetcar. Luckily, it was almost empty. The conductor was an elderly man and could not care who I was.

Remembering fellow travelers

I remember people who were with me in the camp.

- One was George Glass, a very friendly, but a hard working guy. One day, instead of delivering wood to the transport train, he fell asleep. When the guard caught him sleeping, he spent a few nights in the prison. He was in one of the working units, but many times just left the unit and went home to see Baba, his wife. This caused him and the whole unit lots of trouble.

He happened to be at home in November, when Horty Miklos, the Chancellor (Governor) of Hungary, made his declaration of intent to make peace with the Allied Forces, including the Soviet Union. George did not return to the main unit, instead he went into hiding.

After the war, he became in Hungary, then later in Montreal a well-known dispensing optician. At the age of 77, he is an active sports man.

Beginning of December there were posters all over the city warning and advising people in hiding to return to their units, or report to the nearest one. He did just that, but reported with a few items of regular civilian clothes. When he learned, that the unit would go to West a few days later: to Austria or Germany, he took the backdoor again and went into hiding.

-The second one, George Deutch was a medic in the camp, as I mentioned before, he finished the first year of Medical Faculty. He did also lots of "home visiting," not exactly of a medical nature, staying mostly in their basement with a small window open to the back street. November 12 was the date when he wanted to sneak back to the camp, but found out that the Germans intended to transport every Jew to Germany and already surrounded the building. He went into hiding, too.

After the war, he became Dr. George Daniel, one of the very famous surgeons in Budapest, later in Montreal. When George retired, they moved to Toronto, where he died of lung cancer in August, 2001.

As for Tibor, I learned after the war, that he went home. While hiding behind the door, a search party found him, took him away to a westbound marching unit. He was too weak to keep up with the group. When the Hungarian guard saw him sitting on the side of the road, he shot him dead.

The road was littered with young Jewish, innocent bodies, for the glory of Hungary, German culture and a terrible shame for humanity.

None of the eight friends came back alive. What was their sin? I have not found out what was their or their parents' fate.

In every Jewish home of survivors, there are empty seats of those killed or missing.

On Memorial Day, there are lot of candles to light, prayers to say, and tears to drop.

Can anybody forget this?

Can anybody forgive this?

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