Gendarme's Rude Greetings

A gendarme, shouting and cursing, greeted us as the heavy doors opened. He ordered us to quickly get out with our backpacks. We then witnessed a bloodcurdling sight: a gendarme was brutally beating up a good friend of my father, Mr. Schonfeld, and his sister-in-law.

The gendarmes ordered us to line up five to a row to be counted. Then we marched into a big building with no roof. A young girl from our town was being hanged from the building by her hands and legs. A couple of gendarmes beat her all over her body with their hands and guns. The girl screamed and cried bitterly. The gendarmes poured many liters of water over her so that she would wake up after fainting, and then kept beating her. Blood and tears streamed down her crucified body all the while. Oh, those barbaric ruthless beasts. It was a miserable sight.

We crowded into the roofless building, sitting on top of each other and stepping on each other's legs as we tried to walk around. As we all took our places, a heavy rain poured down on us, soaking us down to our bones. Our belongings were also soaked, spoiling the food and leaving us with almost nothing to eat for the next two weeks.

This wretched city we were now in, Debrecen, or to be more concise - Debrecen's outskirts. The small building we were in was meant to be a brickyard. Only one tap was available for water, so we had to wait in a long line to drink. The men had to dig a long, deep ditch to let us take care of our natural human needs. Anyone using it could be seen by all - another one of the many degrading decrees which befell us.

© David Muskal, 2001