LIBERATION

April 7, 1945

It was under such circumstances that we lived to see the beginning of our rebirth. The year 1945, April the seventh; the day - Saturday. Wonderful blue skies with heart-warming bright sunshine smiling down upon us. In accord with my daily routine, I was just loafing about by the barbed wire fence inside the courtyard of block thirty-six. My gaze was directed toward two important locations over the fence - the kitchen and the cattle-beef clamp.

Suddenly, a band of SS officers appeared on the scene. A tall officer bawled out, "where is the dog"? He was referring to our block leader, Mr. Simon Fisher, whose face really resembled a St. Bernard dog. Soon, Mr. Fisher presented himself. This strange occurrence keenly aroused my interest. Does this signal good tidings as to our destiny? For better or worse, we find out in a few short minutes.

Orders from higher Nazi authorities called for a group of two thousand tormented Jewish souls - Hungarian, Polish, Dutch and Spanish - to leave Bergen-Belsen for good. The instruction singled out large families, but those who preferred to stay and be liberated in this camp were allowed to do so, while those singles who wished were allowed to join with this, the first transport to leave. At this time, I could think of no greater desire than to walk out alive through the big open gates of the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp on my own two feet. Together with my Mom, my sister Jolan and brothers Bela and Bandi, I felt this was a great privilege, an immeasurable reward from the Almighty.

In less than ten minutes, two-thousand "living dead" stood in lines of fives, as was the order of the SS Nazi leader named Kramer. Adults aged over twenty-one were given four cigarettes. As we stood in rows, my acquaintance F.F. came to my side to wish me speedy liberation from Nazi reign. In turn, I wished him the same good tidings.

Marching Out of Bergen-Belsen

With our meager belongings on our backs, we thus began marching out of Bergen-Belsen after unbearable suffering of many months. At our sides were armed Nazi guards, but now I could not care less; I just disregarded their presence. With an elevated feeling, I walked on the camp's main road, leading us toward our long yearned for freedom.

As we approached block ten, the unfolding spectacle encompassed me. I saw a colossal hill made of skeleton cadavers, while yet-living skeleton-like creatures sat cross-legged on the bare earth or wallowed in their own filth. I dared ask the Nazi guard who walked by what would happen to the pitiful creatures in block ten. He answered that all those creatures in block ten would shortly perish, but that our group would survive!

At the time, our bodies were completely weakened, and we stood at the edge of the grave. Finally, we reached the huge open gate, where the armed Nazi guards at each side of the sentry box no longer frightened me. Proudly, with a sense of relief, I walked through the gate, leaving the Bergen-Belsen death factory behind me. Miraculously, I lived through the barbarian system to tell the world about the torture and murder of innumerable defenseless souls.

Back in the Cattle Trucks

For the time being, we marched to the railway station of Bergen-Celle. It was now Saturday afternoon. We were again herded inside empty cattle trucks filled to their capacity - we could only sit. There was not enough room to stretch our numbed legs. As was our habit, no sleep would come to our eyes. Hunger and thirst would prevent this.

As the sun rose on Sunday after a sleepless night, I got up to see what was happening outside the cattle trucks. I slowly walked out and was glad to discover a business exchange just opposite our transport. A group of Ukrainian civilians guarded a red-beet clamp and exchanged one red beet for each cigarette.

Seeing this I turned to my mom with a thrilling sense and asked her to give four cigarettes to exchange for beets. She gave me the cigarettes, but as I stepped off the cattle truck I was terribly disappointed. The Swabien SS guards were beating my fellow Jews with their heavy rifles, as punishment for the exchange. They were striking my people on the head, face and back without any compassion. Seeing this, I felt distressed and benumbed, and was rooted to the spot. I just leaned against the side of the cattle truck. Within a few minutes, the exchange area was clear of Jews. Sure enough, the Ukrainian exchangers were not assaulted, even though they exchanged things that belonged to the Nazi authorities, while we Jews exchanged our own property.

The Ukrainians stayed close by, with only the SS guards patrolling the grounds. The instinct of hunger that does not comprehend fear guided my legs toward one of the armed SS guards. Still numb and speechless, I showed him the four cigarettes with an imploring look, indicating my plea to this murderous enemy of mine. He immediately understood and advised me to make a quick run before his commanding officer reappears on the scene. I hardly finished my exchange when the area once again filled up with my fellow suffering companions. The exchange goes on until the SS guards again strike out with their rifles. My mom evenly divided the four beets between the five of us, and we ate with a relish.

From Saturday the Seventh of ýApril,ý ý1945, our transport was stranded at the Bergen-Celle railway station. Our irresponsible captors, the SS Germans no longer provided us with food. After suffering from constant starvation for six long months at the de factory of Bergen-Belsen they left us now in total hunger and total thirst. By now, we had been steadily crouching inside the crowded cattle trucks for five days. We were too exhausted, dizzy and weak to grasp how grave our situation was. What do the Nazis have in mind?

Turning Point - 12 April, 1945

We now reached the most crucial hour of our life during World War II under German Nazi rule. From each and every truck, a Jewish leader was asked to appear before a high-ranking SS officer, who issued a disastrous order that we immediately carried out. All men between the ages of sixteen and sixty were to line up in columns of five in front of the cattle trucks, with the angels of death fluttering around. We had to fight them off, and - luckily for us - we won! Our deteriorating health prevented us from comprehending the great life-and-death peril we were in at the time. We did not sense how we hovered between life and death, but our subconscious felt and knew it.

A paralyzing darkness seized me. Time stood still until all the men returned to the cattle cars. Then, our leader told us what really took place. As our transport of two thousand souls somehow got caught up between two combatants - the US army fighting against Hitler's cowards - our SS captors decided to annihilate us all. They were going to gun down the men with machine guns in front of the cattle cars, and then blow up the rest of us - babies, small children, women and the elderly - in the cattle cars. That was the decree that the Nazi beast devised when its hour of doom came. Our leaders persuaded the SS officers to withdraw the decree by bribing them with gold jewelry that the Spanish Jewish group had. The SS officers fled, leaving us to be liberated shortly by the US army. Thus, by the generous decree of the Almighty, we were rid of the cruel tormenting clutches of the German Nazis, on the precious date of April 12, 1945, around mid afternoon.

This is how our "door of freedom" opened wide before us. Our leaders told us how to behave, letting us know that we could leave the cattle cars, but must stay close by. We were also told that we were in close range of an ongoing heavy battle. Those who wished to sleep the night outside the cattle car could do so on top of the grassy hill just in front of us. We were presently situated twenty kilometers from the city of Magdeburg, between two small towns. To our right was Forsleben and to our left was Csilics. At long last, the enfeebled crowd began crawling out of its prison, although many were too faint to enjoy the very first steps of freedom. It looked like there was hope that the US army would liberate us for good from the barbaric domination of Nazi Germany by the morrow.

A Real Bath!

We soon spotted a small pond and together with my sister Jolan I took my first steps in its direction in order to take a "real bath in real water". As we walked there, a band of SS German officers were running away. One of them aimed at us with his small gun and fired some bullets with an accompanying last farewell to us - "swine Jew"! Luckily for my sister and I, we were far enough not to get hurt.

In front of the cattle car, we could see German civilians from the two nearby towns running in opposite directions on the main road, trying to escape from the approaching US forces. With dulled sense, we glimpsed towards them. Several SS guards stayed with us. Some of them asked for - and received - civilian clothes from our people.

Many of us spent the night on the grassy hill beneath the open, starry blue sky. A nearby gun battle illuminated the area through the night. Sounds of cannons kept us awake and we prayed fervently now more than ever for our liberators' swift victory.

The next morning we dug up recently planted potatoes we found between two stones, made a fire and cooked them. They tasted delicious. In the early afternoon, I again started walking towards the small pond, but then my little sister Jolan excitedly hollered to me: "hey you, come back fast, the US army has arrived"!

US Angel Soldiers

As much as my faint condition would allow me, I hurried to the scene of the miracle to welcome them, this being the big moment we so yearned for. Two angel-like American soldiers stood there beside their "magic" jeep. My sister and I looked on enchantedly as they took captive the several SS cowards who stayed in their shameful and disgraceful uniforms. The SS henchmen held up their hands while one of the Americans stood opposite them with a pointed weapon. Then, the second US officer searched their pockets.

These two dear, brave soldiers of valor hurried straight from the battlefield to liberate us from the satanic German Nazis. I just kept looking at their faces, which still reflected emotions of battle. Their eyes and face mirrored wrath as their glance fell on us, the feeble crowd. They came to liberate us and the many cadavers laid out in front of the cattle cars on the bare earth.

The American officers told us that an airplane spotted our transport leaving Bergen-Belsen, and that they escorted and watched us since then. In the event that our Nazi transport guards would attack us, they were ready to come to our defense. It was Friday, April the thirteenth, at about three p.m., when the gracious US army emancipated us - our group of two thousand living dead. They brought us back from the edge of the grave, from the satanic, barbaric, murderous clutches of the German Nazis.

Standing there and looking up at our liberators, I waited to sense some kind of emotion on this miraculous occasion - but no. Reality did not penetrate my consciousness. My senses were incapable of experiencing any signs of emotion - no tears of joy appeared, nor even the slightest smile. My senses were left stiff, in the aftermath of extended suffering. We are liberated, but only outwardly. Our mind still remained under great pressure, as heavy, dark clouds obscured our world of comprehension. It will take a good many years to be free completely. When that time comes, if ever, we will be able to feel wholly liberated and shake off the shackles of bondage and imperceptible suffering.

Feeding Us Back to Life

Taking their German or Swabean SS captives along with them, the two American officers left us for now. The majority of our group was so feeble that they stayed inside the crowded cattle trucks. Some ventured to the nearby small towns for provisions. The following day, early in the afternoon, the US army arrived with a big army truck. They brought us a delicious hot meal, potato goulash with veal meat. Never before in my life, or after, did I eat as tasty a meal as this. I just looked on as those US soldiers of valor took care of our group of two thousand, going from cattle car to cattle car so patiently. After suffering so long from inhuman treatment, I felt a great distinction to be treated with human kindness by those American soldiers. It was like being born again.

With their kind devotion toward us they sowed back into our souls the sparks and seeds of human hopes and feelings. By Sunday morning, my sister Jolan and I plucked up some courage and crawled out of the cattle cars to look around at the nearby town of Forsleben. We were pleasantly surprised to discover that US officers were already strolling the locality, patrolling the place. Some of our fellow Jews were also around and about. The local population either locked themselves in their homes or escaped. None of them ventured to welcome the new liberators.

Suddenly we came by a friend of ours, Kati, with a smiling face. She invited us to taste from a big can of scrambled eggs that she just received from the American soldiers. Gladly, we did. With our bare hands, we grabbed a handful from it, thanking her for the kindheartedness.

Searching for Shelter

It thought that we should ask the American soldiers to place us (our family of five) in one of the houses instead of leaving us in the cattle cars, now that we were free. So I found myself approaching a pair of US soldiers and somehow conveyed my wish. The two American officers forthwith escorted my sister Yolan and I to a nice little house and rang the doorbell. Soon, the door opened and we entered this small, clean house. A certain Mr. Benedek saw us with the American soldiers and joined us as well. The US soldiers told the two German women in the house that they wanted us to move into their flat. The women complained that their house was too small - which it was. The officer told me I could do as I pleased. I thanked him, but could not accept his generous offer. While the conversation took place, Mr. Benedek searched for provisions and found some canned goods in the house. I found his behavior disgraceful, and we left the house. Outside, I thanked the two American officers for their good intentions.

For a short time, we just strolled about in Forsleben, then walked back toward the cattle truck. Luckily for us, since just then came the time to move out. We climbed with our belongings up to a big US army truck, wondering where our dear liberators were transporting us. Amazed by the green countryside, our elevating ride soon ended. We arrived at a very nice small town called Hillersleben - here lived the SS German officers with their families.

Presently only the women and children remained - husbands and sons were still fighting Hitler's war. For the time being, we were placed in one big barrack. At the same time, the Nazi families were removed from their beautiful flats. They were allowed to take with them only the contents of one backpack. They were instructed by the US army to leave everything in good condition for our use. American soldiers distributed lunch in a big kitchen not too far away, and my brother Bela went every day at sunset to bring it to us. We received provisions two or three times daily from this kitchen.

My Mom - and the four of us, her children - left our barrack to take in some fresh air. Some American soldiers joined us for a short while and gave us chocolate bars and chewing gum. This was the first time we encountered chewing gum. They also presented me with a lady's wristwatch. I valued it dearly and took great care of it. (But somehow, when I was heading for aliya to Palestine in the year 1946, some heartless thief stole it from my pocket - probably in Bucharest, the Romanian capital.)

The American army ordered us to move to a nearby building the next day. We did not yet have separate beds here for each member of the family, so I recall using a big billiard table as my sleeping place. We had a nice big bathroom - no more cleanliness problems for us. I took all my nice dresses and tried to get rid of the lice on them. But they settled on the collars, swarming by the hundreds. I tried washing them out in the washtub, but this did not work. Angrily, I threw them out the window, and saw other people picking them up - all of them.

Slowly Eating Back to Health

We now lived in a big building. Each entrance had a person responsible for conveying public orders from the US leadership. We were instructed to eat only the provisions supplied by American army. Because of our very weak heart condition we were not allowed to eat anything more. Whoever did not keep this directive jeopardized his or her life. In those early days following our liberation, I experienced much stomach pain. Thus, most of the time I stayed on the big green billiard table. Also, I suffered from being dizzy and weak.

One day, my brother Bela took too long to come back with our lunch, and I decided to check on him. We all felt very hungry. In my poor condition, I slowly and cautiously descended down the steps and reached the entrance door. Whom did I have the luck to see - none other than a former admirer of mine who was now busy with his belongings. I just hoped that he would not see me, but was amazed to suddenly feel strong enough to hurriedly climb up the steps. After a short while, my brother came with our lunch, reporting with delight that he met my former acquaintance. I told my brother that I am not at all interested in meeting this young man, or anyone else for that matter. This boy also told my brother that Bergen-Belsen was freed by the British army on the fifteenth of April 1945, but he and some friends left there to join us in Hillersleben.

Soon all the German families were evicted from Hillersleben. We also had to leave our present abode, as the US army temporarily took residence of this region. We were housed in a wooden building together with other families. Army officers ordered us all to appear for questioning, then issued an official card indicating which army regiment liberated us, the place of our liberation, along with our personal data - name; date, place and country of birth. As we stood in the long line, American soldiers sprayed disinfectant on our outer clothing. After receiving our official cards the US army presented each and every one of us with fabric for making clothing, dresses for the women and pants for the men.

Shortly afterwards, we moved into a very nice clean flat. The entrance hall included a big bathroom - with wash tub and toilet - and a big kitchen with dishes and all the modern facilities in it. There were five rooms, each with a separate entrance door with lock. Our neighbors were all very nice, intelligent people. Three of the families were Polish Jews, and two Hungarian male friends occupied the other room. We lived in great harmony with all the other inhabitants in this flat.

Reuniting with Survivors

Before long, the Jewish survivors from Holland were transferred home on big American army trucks. From nearby environs, more captives from different nationalities that were freed by the US army were brought here to Hillersleben. They all received comfortable accommodations. French prisoners of war were also transferred back to their country. While the war still went on, this little town also had Italian captives - some Polish some Jews. Also, there were some Yugoslavians who were non-Jews. Some of them volunteered to work for Nazi Germany during the war. A former acquaintance of mine also moved into the building of our residence, together with a friend. This former acquaintance came looking for me too often, sometimes even chasing after me, but I always eluded him.

Once, I remember he came to our place under the pretense that he was my brother's friend. The minute he appeared at the door I rushed out without giving him a chance to have a single word with me. Whenever we were moved to a different building he was always there, close to me. Several months later, he sent his friend to ask me why I was not interested in him anymore. I flatly told him I never was. He later told my brother that he wrote some warm love letters to me, but tore them to shreds after hearing his friend's unresponsive report. Subsequently, he "took leave" from my brother, admitting that he could not endure to stay near me any more. Therefore, he must return to his birthplace, Nagyvarad. We gave him two letters to mail when he is Hungary, one addressed to my father (in case he was still alive), and the other to a Christian neighbor.

Then there was another young man from Hencida, the son of a former friend of my parents, whom my mother wished to marry me of to. He came to Hillersleben after the liberation of Bergen-Belsen, seeking every chance to talk to me. Confused, I always eluded him. Most of those chances took place in the beautiful park in the locality where we all often strolled, enjoying nature. Once, we met face to face, and he asked my why I always eluded him. He indicated his desire to spend some time in my company. Shamefacedly, I let him know that I was just not interested in any young man companion. And that was the truth. He was a real gentleman. Never again did I bump into him.

Although both these young men were good looking, well mannered and intelligent, I was not interested in them - or in anyone else for that matter. I had just reached my eighteenth birthday at the time, but it seems that the aftermath of suffering left me with too heavy mental pain. Those feelings of a healthy teenager's desires were locked within me, like other pent-up feelings choked deep within me - an outcome of our suffering during World War II.

Our Liberators

Now about our generous, kind, angelic liberators who freed us from Nazi hands. As I look back over the long years that passed, and recall the group of 2,000 of which I was a part - how we must have looked when we were freed from Bergen-Belsen! I must say that the soldiers who freed us were like angels from heaven. They took care of us with great devotion. They worked hard with their fine kindness that saved our lives. They placed us in the nicest looking houses in the area to make us comfortable. They prepared the special meals we needed because of our weak and sick condition. In short, the US army pulled us back to life from the edge of the grave. They did all they could to build up our spirit and health so damaged by the Nazis. Never have I met such devoted human kindness. Their humanity led us back to our rightful life as human beings on earth.

The US army freed us on the thirteenth of April 1945. When they left us we were all sorry that they hadn't given us a chance to thank them for all their kindness. Now, after so many years, let me at least say, "thank you very much" to those devoted and kind US soldiers. Within 24 hours they put up a hospital for our sick! They put us up in comfortable quarters and went from room to room looking for the sick and infirm. If they found someone in bed or looking too pale-faced, they immediately carried them to the hospital. There they conducted their efficient check-ups. Many of us were sick with spotted-typhus, a very infectious disease. Two of the American doctors who treated us contracted it and sadly enough died from it.

Overindulgence

Shortly after our liberation I met two former tenants of our barrack in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. One was an older man, Mr. Falik from Szeged. The other fellow was a young married father aged about 32 years old - Mr. Reiner from Rakospalot. Both gloated about some special food they ate. Mr. Falik boasted about eating a full plate of vermicelli made of potato pasta. Mr. Reiner bragged how he went to Forsleben and grabbed a live goose in one of the courtyards, wrung its neck, baked it and finished eating it all by himself. That was the last we saw of them. They both died shortly after boasting how they ate foods other than what our liberators provided us. The US army warned us not to eat any food besides what they provided, as our stomachs had become too sick and weak for other food. We also heard about others who ate other foods and perished out of their own carelessness.

VE Day

On May 8, 1945 came the unconditional surrender of Hitler and Nazi Germany, VE day - victory in Europe for the allies and for us. It was a great day in Hillersleben but our emotions were still stiff. Its meaning did not penetrate into our consciousness - only our subconscious responded to it.

Our residence was located opposite the hospital and thus we often met some of the US soldiers who worked there. I especially remember two of them. One was named Vencel; he always gave us chewing gum accompanied with a heavy smile. The other, whose name we did not know, we nicknamed "the chocolate soldier", simply because whenever he saw us he gave everyone a chocolate bar! Then there was a Mr. Yosef Sarkady who gave to us his full address in the US and begged us to write him when we got home. Somehow we never did, but we will always remember him! He gave my sister Jolan nice long brown boots, and also gave us a hunted stag, which we did not eat.

There was an open-air swimming pool for the use of US officers only in front of the hospital building, but they used it only on Sundays. We would watch them from our flat window, and we really enjoyed it. Other than that, we had very little entertainment, other than enjoying our much longed for freedom. We often strolled around in this nice small town or in nearby Forsleben. Also, we would walk a long way to the Elba Lake every day with my cousin Magda and take a sunbath.

Together with my sister Jolan or friends, I spent many pleasant hours at the nearby fruit orchard, where the cherries were ripe for picking. One day we met a German woman there - she was probably one of the orchard's owners, but she dared not talk about it. She told us that she did not like Hitler, and that her son died in the war because of him.

"Piroshka" Eyes

One day, my cousin Magda asked to go with her to bring milk. My brother Bela generally took care of our provisions, waiting in long lines at the US supply kitchen and bringing home supplies. But since this particular day, I was the one who brought our family milk. Very simply, I became hypnotized by a pair of kind beautiful eyes which belonged to one of the US soldiers I never got to know. As we stood beside the stone wall waiting in the long line, I still felt very sad, with my appearance mirroring the inner pain. Suddenly, I felt a magnet pulling my glance, and found myself looking straight up into his smiling eyes. Several other soldiers stood beside him, but I saw only him. They all stood above in an open terrace, and we could only see their upper body. It was summer and they wore only a sleeveless white undershirt.

Since that day I always came myself for milk. Sometimes I came with other cousins too, and I was so charmed by my hypnotizer. I offered all my cousins to enjoy looking into his eyes, as he had the nicest eyes I ever looked into. My cousins found other nice eyes to look into them, but when I checked them, I declared that no one else has such beautiful eyes, and I would always look for the one who hypnotized me.

Magda named my chosen Piroshka, because he had a nice red suntanned face. She guessed that he must be about twenty-two years old. So each time we came we would talk about "Piroshka", always standing there looking at us with a beaming smile on his face (I found out twenty-five years later that he understood our Hungarian language, and that was probably what made him smile.) One Tuesday afternoon as we strolled by we saw Piroshka leaning out from one of the building's big windows. He greeted us with his big smile and we went on our way. We somehow found out that the American soldiers had a party each Tuesday, so we would go by to look at "Piroshka", happy to see that he took some interest in us too.

Moving Along

Those who wanted to emigrate to Palestine or any other place that opened its gate to the Jewish people now had the opportunity. Many took up these offers instead of going back to their country of birth. My brother Bela also wanted very much to go to Palestine but I begged him to stay with us.

Big trucks came and those who chose to emigrate were taken to Magdeburg, from where they continued to their final destination. Some of my friends suggested we could go to Magdeburg with these trucks, see the destroyed city, and then return home with them. I like the idea of seeing the big city, so without telling my mother, I joined my sister and climbed up on a truck. We soon arrived at the Magdeburg railway station, and all the passengers left - except for my sister, myself, and a young man who also just wanted an adventure. The German driver, probably a former Nazi, told us to get off. We told him that we had to go back with him to Hillersleben, but he said that he was not returning there. Flatly, he forced us off his truck.

Now the three of us were in an unknown big city. We knew no one, and in my ignorance I walked with my companions to the nearby US headquarters. There I explained our problem to one of the officials, who thought about giving us a ride back to Hillersleben. However, he just gave us a letter of recommendation to be handed to the leading official at a far away place where mainly Yugoslav Jews were concentrated after the liberation. It was at the outskirts of Magdeburg - if I recall correctly, the neighborhood was called New Stadt. We had to walk there, and then we would receive a ride back to our place.

We began our long walk asking the German residents for directions. We always received the same answer - go straight, then right, then left. After several hours of walking, one German lady told us it was too far for walking, so she gave us 50 Pfenning to hire a horse-cart. We thanked her generosity and did as she advised. Now as we sat comfortably in the horse-cart, we could look around in amazement at this much talked about old town. Very few houses stayed whole, most of them were bombed out and destroyed as a result of Hitler's war.

When we arrived at our destination it was already late afternoon. We found the Jewish leader of the camp, who welcomed us heartily and gave us salami sandwiches. He promised to take us home to Hillersleben the following morning around 10 a.m. and added that the camp was almost empty, as the inhabitants were transferred back to their country of birth. He let us choose our own room for the night, apologizing for the shabby conditions prevailing. The windows in most rooms were all broken, while others had no doors.

After much deliberation we found two rooms separated by a door. The uninvited boy took the one with one bed - he did not even introduce himself to us, just followed us around like a dog. My sister Jolan and I took the other room, which had separate beds. The first-floor flat had no glass in the window frame, so anyone could easily jump in from the street. Thank God, no one did!

We could not lock the door between the two rooms, so we pulled an old sewing machine we found in front of it in case the boy next door tries to visit. We dared not sleep through the night, just watched the door and window. Thank God nothing happened, and morning soon came.

The three of us decided not to wait until ten a.m. for the ride, opting instead to walk the 20 km. to Hillersburg. We thought about our worrying mother and started on our way at six a.m. in the morning, asking the German residents for directions. We had a pleasant jog and enjoyed the countryside. By ten a.m. we arrived home safe and sound. Our mother heard us out, but we heard no harsh words from her.

Changing of the Guard

We were so delighted with our liberators - just looking at them gave us a special pleasure. They so amazed us; in our childish way of thinking we imagined they walk like angels, so we nicknamed them "the Angel Soldiers". After being treated so inhumanly by our Nazi captors for such a long time, our liberators' kindhearted devotion overwhelmed us, restoring warm human feelings into our heart and soul.

It was again a Tuesday afternoon. My sister Jolan and I took our walk to claim a hearty smile from Piroshka leaning out of an open window of their elegant building. But as we approached the usual place a sense of disappointment possessed me. No, I told my sister, Piroshka is not there. Then suddenly, we heard a fine voice calling out "hello". We turned around in the direction of the voice, there stood Piroshka behind a big tree, over six feet tall and in full uniform - a handsome, kind and beautiful officer, his deep bluish gray eyes like a movie star. I was completely enchanted by him. Piroshka stood with a camera in his hands, taking a picture of us.

When he finished we turned to go and left him there alone. He did not talk to us. As I turned to go, I very clearly remember feeling a sharp pain steal in the lower left side of my heart. I wondered what that symptom meant. Just out of the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp and in my brainwashed mental condition, it was impossible for me to grasp its meaning just then. I just felt like an ignoramus. [[But I was destined to find out in a most intricate way, after twenty-five years, just how much my feelings were touched by him then.]] I simply did not understand at the time because of the dark subconscious world I left in the aftermath of the great suffering during World War Two.

The next day we understood that by taking our picture Piroshka was bidding farewell. The U.S. army left Hillersleben and the whole area around midnight. Early the next morning the British army already took over the locality. They, too, were nice to us, but in a somewhat different manner - less friendly and less warm. We still got our regular provisions, but we very much missed our liberators.

At some point while we were at Hillersleben the "Badiglio" Italian farmers who were taken prisoner by the Nazis were also placed here. They made a scarecrow out of rags, its face resembling Hitler's, and invited everyone in our camp to march with them to a nearby, lovely little town. During the course of the big march some of the Italian boys loudly declared Hitler is kaput while one of them at head of the multitude displayed the Hitler rag. All the while the German residents shut themselves in their houses. They dared not stay in the streets. Some timidly peeped out their windows.

After the march we all came back to Hillersleben. In a big playing-field the Italians burned their Hitler to ashes, dancing and singing that Hitler is kaput.

Under the Care of the Russian Army

Now the British were also due to leave the area. The Russians would be taking over, but beforehand the British offered the whole group to take them along. The British army did not wish us to live under the reign of Communism. They even brought twenty enormous army trucks to handle the logistics. But as most of the people here were Jews born in Hungary, they preferred to go home and had to wait for the Russian army.

So early the next morning the British army left with the twenty empty trucks. They had hardly left when the Russian army arrived. Unfortunately for us, our regular provision took a drastic turn for the worse and was greatly reduced. We received a bread ration, margarine and a wish-washy oily concoction with some barley in it from the Russian kitchen. Everyday the same lunch. We also took green tomatoes from the gardens around the building and made sandwiches with them. The Russian authorities also moved us out of our flats, handing them over to their own men.

The Hungarian Jewish actors who were part of our group staged performances in honor of the Russians on two occasions, and all of us were invited to watch and enjoy. The Russian army also put on a nice theatrical performance - they had some really good actors and we quite enjoyed the entertainment. A sporting event featured the Russian soldiers playing football against the Italian Badaglio. Sure enough, with their wild manner, the Russian soldiers won.

I do not remember exactly when, but in a Hillersleben orchard two women engaged in an ugly fight over the attention of an older gentleman. One of the women used to dwell in the same barrack as myself in Bergen-Belsen, so I knew her. She lived with a young child and both her parents. The other woman was not married. They pulled each other's hair and shouted at each other. "Let me have him," said the younger one. "You have your husband, so let me have him," said the older one. Their man stood by helplessly as this strange performance unfolded.

Among the Russian soldiers were two young lads with bicycles. We gave them some cigarettes which the Americans had given, and in exchange they let us borrow their bikes. My cousin Magda took us for tours of nearby towns. Then we discovered that we could travel for free by train, and went to see a movie (also free). We had no money!

A Detour on the Way Home

August came and the Russians told us they would be taking us "home". We had to be ready early the next day and we will be transported by train. One of the Russian lads came to bid us farewell. He gave my mom four hundred Mark and received in turn presents worth the sum - cigarettes, a harmonica and more.

Before leaving the place, some of our fellow Jewish neighbors smashed to pieces valuables such as a nice set of china. I found their behavior unacceptable, in spite of what the Germans did to us.

We boarded a cattle truck, mislead by the Russian army. They told us we were going back to Hungary.

After a few days of travel our transport came to a halt at Doberlug-Kircheim (?), a small city in Germany. Lead by a Russian officer we marched from the railway station through a small town on the outskirts and arrived at a small forest. "Make yourself at home," said the Russian officer. We had hardly arrived when a fight broke out with the Nazi-Hungarian band that had already occupied this forest. Our leaders told the Russian officer that we could not share a forest with Nazi Hungarians, so he marched us back to the railway station. The lucky ones in our group moved into a building while the rest of us took lodging in a basement waiting room in the railway station. It was so crowded there that some of us found places only on the steps. Thus we spent our first night.

After a day or so we moved into a nearby railway control booth, its floor filthy with human defecation. We cleaned up thoroughly and, together with my aunt and cousins, moved there instead of residing on the steps leading to the railway station waiting room.

Food? We received food maybe twice during our two week stay. We took walks around the compound looking for something to eat, but found nothing, not even in the nearby forest.

In one of the nearby little towns some Jewish women from Budapest, block-mates from Bergen Belsen, found residence inside a movie theater. They were liberated by the Russian army, and rumor had it that all of them were also raped by their liberators.

We met another two groups there, a group of single young women, and a group of single young men. One of the young women had an Italian boyfriend who planned to marry her, and was already carrying his child in her womb. Later we found out that when they arrived in her hometown the women's father forbade the marriage, chased away the Italian boyfriend and found his daughter a Jewish husband.

After several weeks in this impossible situation, our Jewish leaders traveled to Berlin to beseech the United States authorities for immediate relief. The Russians responded the following day by herding us - along with the two groups of women and the young men - aboard a cattle truck and transporting us to Funterswalde, a small town nearby. Here, we were imprisoned under the guardianship of the Russian army. Overcome by sadness, I wrote a short poem expressing my feelings.

The Russians assigned us to three rooms: one for families, one for single women and one for single men - the doors of the latter two rooms facing each other. Our room had mostly mothers with their children, along with very few husbands. All of us lay on blankets on the floor.

One of our roommates, a young mother with three small children and her widowed mother, had lost contact with her husband, who was taken to a forced labor brigade. As many of the men taken to forced labor brigades perished during the war, this young mother wanted to secure her future, so she befriended a lover. So in the midst of hundreds of people on the floor, this women and her lover lay side-by-side at one end of the blanket, while her children and her mother lay at the other end of the same blanket. Several weeks later when she arrived in her hometown in Hungary, her husband waited for her at the railway station, and she bade her lover goodbye, leaving him in the cattle car as all around chuckled.

In Doberlug the Russian confined us to a big building with a very small courtyard for walking space. It felt very gloomy. Our provisions here consisted of a small bread ration and the same oily liquid with barley for lunch each day.

We awoke one night to the clamor of drunken Russian guards who entered the young women's room intent on raping them. But the young Jewish men came to their rescue and chased the Russian guards out.

© David Muskal, 2001