On the afternoon of 2nd May 1944 I was working at the beauty salon and I knew that the Germans or the Hungarians would be at the Jewish council that afternoon to inform them of the rules they would have to obey. Then they said that it was forbidden to go out after 9pm. So I went directly to the sanatorium, to my brother, and told him that. Then I went home. Mom wasn't there and I remember that on the table there were two large boxes, containing the medication my brother used to receive from the manufacturers. Several days earlier the Jewish patients had been kicked out of the hospital, so they made a hospital out of a half-built church. Then they asked the people to donate, if they could, a bed, sheets, an armoire, medication, anything a hospital might need. The patients were there but nothing else. Misi gathered his medication and left them out, so when they came for them, they could take them away. I then put those medications one by one on the table and wondered what it would be like if I took them to forget about all these things. But I didn't know the medications since I very rarely took any. Mom came home and I told her what decrees had been established, and I said I didn't want to go through with this, 'Who knows what else awaits us?' We couldn't foresee what would really happen. I said, 'I want to die, and I want us to die together.' Mom said, 'No, my dear, we can't do that because I want to get to see Andras again.' But she never did.
- Traditions 11756
- Language spoken 3019
- Identity 7808
- Description of town 2440
- Education, school 8506
- Economics 8772
- Work 11672
- Love & romance 4929
- Leisure/Social life 4159
- Antisemitism 4822
-
Major events (political and historical)
4256
- Armenian genocide 2
- Doctor's Plot (1953) 178
- Soviet invasion of Poland 31
- Siege of Leningrad 86
- The Six Day War 4
- Yom Kippur War 2
- Ataturk's death 5
- Balkan Wars (1912-1913) 35
- First Soviet-Finnish War 37
- Occupation of Czechoslovakia 1938 83
- Invasion of France 9
- Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact 65
- Varlik Vergisi (Wealth Tax) 36
- First World War (1914-1918) 216
- Spanish flu (1918-1920) 14
- Latvian War of Independence (1918-1920) 4
- The Great Depression (1929-1933) 20
- Hitler comes to power (1933) 127
- 151 Hospital 1
- Fire of Thessaloniki (1917) 9
- Greek Civil War (1946-49) 12
- Thessaloniki International Trade Fair 5
- Annexation of Bukovina to Romania (1918) 7
- Annexation of Northern Bukovina to the Soviet Union (1940) 19
- The German invasion of Poland (1939) 94
- Kishinev Pogrom (1903) 7
- Romanian Annexation of Bessarabia (1918) 25
- Returning of the Hungarian rule in Transylvania (1940-1944) 43
- Soviet Occupation of Bessarabia (1940) 59
- Second Vienna Dictate 27
- Estonian war of independence 3
- Warsaw Uprising 2
- Soviet occupation of the Balitc states (1940) 147
- Austrian Civil War (1934) 9
- Anschluss (1938) 71
- Collapse of Habsburg empire 3
- Dollfuß Regime 3
- Emigration to Vienna before WWII 36
- Kolkhoz 131
- KuK - Königlich und Kaiserlich 40
- Mineriade 1
- Post War Allied occupation 7
- Waldheim affair 5
- Trianon Peace Treaty 12
- NEP 56
- Russian Revolution 351
- Ukrainian Famine 199
- The Great Terror 283
- Perestroika 233
- 22nd June 1941 468
- Molotov's radio speech 115
- Victory Day 147
- Stalin's death 365
- Khrushchev's speech at 20th Congress 148
- KGB 62
- NKVD 153
- German occupation of Hungary (18-19 March 1944) 45
- Józef Pilsudski (until 1935) 33
- 1956 revolution 84
- Prague Spring (1968) 73
- 1989 change of regime 174
- Gomulka campaign (1968) 81
-
Holocaust
9685
- Holocaust (in general) 2789
- Concentration camp / Work camp 1235
- Mass shooting operations 337
- Ghetto 1183
- Death / extermination camp 647
- Deportation 1063
- Forced labor 791
- Flight 1410
- Hiding 594
- Resistance 121
- 1941 evacuations 866
- Novemberpogrom / Kristallnacht 34
- Eleftherias Square 10
- Kasztner group 1
- Pogrom in Iasi and the Death Train 21
- Sammelwohnungen 9
- Strohmann system 11
- Struma ship 17
- Life under occupation 803
- Yellow star house 72
- Protected house 15
- Arrow Cross ("nyilasok") 42
- Danube bank shots 6
- Kindertransport 26
- Schutzpass / false papers 95
- Warsaw Ghetto Uprising (1943) 24
- Warsaw Uprising (1944) 23
- Helpers 521
- Righteous Gentiles 269
- Returning home 1090
- Holocaust compensation 112
- Restitution 109
- Property (loss of property) 595
- Loss of loved ones 1724
- Trauma 1029
- Talking about what happened 1807
- Liberation 558
- Military 3322
- Politics 2640
-
Communism
4468
- Life in the Soviet Union/under Communism (in general) 2592
- Anti-communist resistance in general 63
- Nationalization under Communism 221
- Illegal communist movements 98
- Systematic demolitions under communism 45
- Communist holidays 311
- Sentiments about the communist rule 930
- Collectivization 94
- Experiences with state police 349
- Prison/Forced labor under communist/socialist rule 449
- Lack or violation of human and citizen rights 483
- Life after the change of the regime (1989) 493
- Israel / Palestine 2190
- Zionism 847
- Jewish Organizations 1200
Displaying 11311 - 11340 of 50826 results
Julia (Juci) Scheiner
By that time the Jews weren't going anywhere, not even to see other Jews.
In 1944, when we were already wearing the star [yellow star] [6], I didn't go anywhere. I was reluctant to walk on the street, I only went to work and back home. On Szent Gyorgy Street - in one of the first houses, where the Maros folk-dance group used to have its headquarters - in the Protestant school, a six-week red-cross course was organized, conducted by a doctor. Mom wanted me to attend it, because she said you never can tell when you might need it. They taught us to be nurses. I used to walk down Saros Street towards the school, and one day I met a friend, Eva Bucher. 'Where are you going?' she asked me. 'I'm going to the Protestant school, for the course,' I answered. 'I'll come with you,' she said. 'Please, Eva, don't come with me, I'm wearing this star, and I don't want to cause any inconvenience to anybody,' I explained. She was Christian, but her father might have been half-Jewish. She said, 'I'll come anyway!' She took me by the arm and came with me. I never forgot this.
Then I got on the train without any luggage, only with a small hand-bag. I sent my trunk home by mail, because I thought that if I had to go through an incident like this again, I wouldn't have to lug my stuff around. The station was packed with detectives, walking up and down, watching people. I remained very calm and pretended I didn't want to get on the train, like I was just reading, and paying no attention to anything. The train came in, I waited for several minutes, and only got on with just a few minutes left, and came to Marosvasarhely. There were no further inconveniences, my trunk had arrived, and nothing was missing. But it was such a bad incident, that I couldn't forget.
In Nagyvarad I went to the hotel and took a room. When I got freshened up, I went to a coffee shop, where I knew my friend, a bank clerk, would be. I thought he'd be there for sure, and I wanted to ask him some advice, and I wanted to discuss with someone what had happened. I was very upset. The coffee shop was opposite the hotel. I walked in, and while I was waiting for my order to be taken, I glanced out at the terrace. There he was, sitting right in front of me. His name was Pali Kovacs, and he was a Jewish guy. I went to his table. He was very surprised, 'What brings you here, Juci?' 'Forced landing' I said. 'What do you mean?' he said, 'With an airplane?' 'No, not with a plane, from a train...'
In the meantime another of my acquaintances came there - he was a Christian, whom I had met at a party, and he kept writing letters to me, but I didn't reply because it wasn't my style. I thought he was familiar with these issues and told him what had happened. Then he said, 'Juci, my dear, I will write you a card, and if you ever encounter any problems, just show it and everything will be alright.' That convinced me that he was important. He hung out with us for a short while, but then he left. I asked Pali to come with me to my cousin's. I went there and they welcomed me. They invited me to stay there for another two or three days.
In the meantime another of my acquaintances came there - he was a Christian, whom I had met at a party, and he kept writing letters to me, but I didn't reply because it wasn't my style. I thought he was familiar with these issues and told him what had happened. Then he said, 'Juci, my dear, I will write you a card, and if you ever encounter any problems, just show it and everything will be alright.' That convinced me that he was important. He hung out with us for a short while, but then he left. I asked Pali to come with me to my cousin's. I went there and they welcomed me. They invited me to stay there for another two or three days.
In 1943 I was in Budapest - I used to go there several times a year - and it was then when I heard for the first time that Jews were being taken off the trains. I didn't think I could also be in that position, but I decided to come home anyway. Before we reached the border, the gendarmes came in requesting our documents. There were all kinds of documents, shopping certificates, and many other kinds of certificates. One gendarme told me everything was alright, but he kept my passport. I asked him, 'Why did you take away my passport?' He replied, 'Because you have to get off now and then your passport will be returned to you.' I said, 'Why should I get off when everything is alright?' I was very angry by then. He said, 'How should I know that you are who the documents say you are?' I said, 'If you don't believe it, in the other compartment I saw a city councilor from Marosvasarhely who used to be on good terms with my dad, I will call someone to prove it.' So I went to him and I said, 'Uncle Marci, please come with me, because they're messing around with me, and they want me to get off the train.' He stalled and backed out; he didn't want to come with me. Then I said, 'Thank you very much', and I left. I saw what it was all about: he wasn't Jewish and didn't want to get involved. I went back and there was nothing I could do, so I got off. It was a very long train and there were eight Jews on it who were forced to get off. I remember that a guy sat at the head of a table and slowly examined the passports. I said to him, 'For the love of God, please hurry, the train is about to depart!' He said, 'It's already moved off' - and indeed it was pulling away. I was mad because the trip had been very exhausting. I asked him, 'When is the next train?' 'At the same time tomorrow', the guy said. Then I left and decided not to continue my trip by train, but rather to go to Nagyvarad [it was near the border], because I had a cousin living there, Bozsi, the daughter of Uncle Ferenc. I thought I would go to a hotel and then visit her, and I decided to go home only after two or three days. I thought all this would stop by then.
In 1942 Andras was summoned to Maramarossziget for forced labor. There was a family there to whom we could send packages or letters for Andras. The guys from the forced labor used to pick up from them whatever we sent. Andras, when he wanted to send us a letter, gave it to the family and they mailed it to us, so we could keep in touch. He was taken to concentration camp in Mauthausen, then to another one in Gunskirchen.
,
1942
See text in interview
From there I was taken to another hospital, where patients with spotted disease were treated. I began to show similar symptoms to theirs, and when my hair began falling out in clumps, I knew I had a problem, I had caught the disease. The only good thing was that the doctor was a man from Szatmarnemeti. His half-brother, Bandi Widder the pharmacist, was one of our best friends back in Marosvasarhely. His name was Nandi Gunter, and he knew my last name because when the chairs were upside down on the table as they were cleaning up at his half-brother's, there on the underside of the chairs was the name of our furniture store: Mestitz Mihaly and Sons.
There was no medicine in the hospital, nor anything else, but he did everything he could medically. He always gave me some of his own vitamins. I shared them, of course, with a little woman I was on good terms with. She lived in Budapest, she was a seamstress, and was of half-Czech origin.
There was no medicine in the hospital, nor anything else, but he did everything he could medically. He always gave me some of his own vitamins. I shared them, of course, with a little woman I was on good terms with. She lived in Budapest, she was a seamstress, and was of half-Czech origin.
,
During WW2
See text in interview
I walked and walked, I was half-asleep, and I probably had a high fever. I walked onto a field to get some potatoes, but I was so tired that I fell asleep. When I woke up, I had no idea in which direction I was going or where I had come from. I've always been a fatalist, so I decided to start walking in one direction. After a while I sat down and couldn't get up anymore. There was a German man close by, and then another five men came from the nearby village.
They thought there was a spy sitting there. They didn't know that I wasn't spying, just crawling. They told me to get up and walk. But I wasn't able to stand up, let alone walk. They tried to put me back on my feet, but when they saw I kept collapsing again, one of them brought a small hand-cart and put me on it - there was even a pillow on it - and this man took me to his home. He didn't let me into his house, of course, but took me to the barn.
They made some kind of a camp-bed there, stuffed it with straw and covered it. They put a pillow and a blanket on top, and laid me there. Each member of his family brought me something to eat, and I ate everything. Then the man disappeared for a while, but then he suddenly showed up again later.
He cooked flour soup and brought me some in a two-liter pot. I thought it really delicious because it was the first hot meal I had for quite a while. The next day I got the runs because I had eaten too much. I stayed there for three weeks or so, but in the last week they let me into the house, washed me and gave me some clothes. They were really nice people. The guy was called Alex Brux. I don't know what he was doing for a living, but I don't think the Germans trusted him because he was a communist. This all took place in a village called Nischkau. The guy took me on a small carriage to a hospital eight kilometers from there. His wife and child came along.
They thought there was a spy sitting there. They didn't know that I wasn't spying, just crawling. They told me to get up and walk. But I wasn't able to stand up, let alone walk. They tried to put me back on my feet, but when they saw I kept collapsing again, one of them brought a small hand-cart and put me on it - there was even a pillow on it - and this man took me to his home. He didn't let me into his house, of course, but took me to the barn.
They made some kind of a camp-bed there, stuffed it with straw and covered it. They put a pillow and a blanket on top, and laid me there. Each member of his family brought me something to eat, and I ate everything. Then the man disappeared for a while, but then he suddenly showed up again later.
He cooked flour soup and brought me some in a two-liter pot. I thought it really delicious because it was the first hot meal I had for quite a while. The next day I got the runs because I had eaten too much. I stayed there for three weeks or so, but in the last week they let me into the house, washed me and gave me some clothes. They were really nice people. The guy was called Alex Brux. I don't know what he was doing for a living, but I don't think the Germans trusted him because he was a communist. This all took place in a village called Nischkau. The guy took me on a small carriage to a hospital eight kilometers from there. His wife and child came along.
While walking a dog bit my leg, so I couldn't really walk, plus I was tired. One of the more decent soldiers put me on the carriage that was carrying their things. When we arrived at a field that was surrounded by a fence, and even had a gate, they took me off the carriage and sent me to the closest group standing by.
They began asking me why I had come to their group, and told me to go away. So I joined a mother from Budapest and her daughter. When we had to walk again, they told us that anyone who felt they couldn't go further should stay put because there was a truck coming to take them away somewhere. We knew the story all too well, but I still wanted to stay there because my leg was hurting very much. I wanted to put an end to everything.
This lady with her daughter wouldn't let me, 'You are coming with us! Take my arm and you'll be able to walk just like us.' I took her by the arm and walked, but after a while I felt it was too much for me. Then the girl told me, 'Juci, don't drag mom, let's walk in one line.' When she asked me the second time, I said I would fall behind. I figured I would slowly fall behind, and when I was the last one in the group, there would be nobody there.
I managed to do that and I collapsed on purpose, but two German soldiers came to me and told me in German, 'Los, weiter machen! Come on, keep it up!' - this had always been their motto. I didn't want to get up, but after a while I had to because they made me. I walked a few steps and then I said I wouldn't go any further, and told them to shoot me - I am sure they didn't shoot me, merely because I told them to do so. And because they knew the whole fuss, the war was coming to an end. In the next village - I don't know what it was called - the soldiers handed me over to the mayor.
That day I slept in the open air at the mayor's house, on the doorstep. Next day he took me to the outskirts of the village and told me that eight miles from there was some town called Nuremberg, and I should report to the police there.
They began asking me why I had come to their group, and told me to go away. So I joined a mother from Budapest and her daughter. When we had to walk again, they told us that anyone who felt they couldn't go further should stay put because there was a truck coming to take them away somewhere. We knew the story all too well, but I still wanted to stay there because my leg was hurting very much. I wanted to put an end to everything.
This lady with her daughter wouldn't let me, 'You are coming with us! Take my arm and you'll be able to walk just like us.' I took her by the arm and walked, but after a while I felt it was too much for me. Then the girl told me, 'Juci, don't drag mom, let's walk in one line.' When she asked me the second time, I said I would fall behind. I figured I would slowly fall behind, and when I was the last one in the group, there would be nobody there.
I managed to do that and I collapsed on purpose, but two German soldiers came to me and told me in German, 'Los, weiter machen! Come on, keep it up!' - this had always been their motto. I didn't want to get up, but after a while I had to because they made me. I walked a few steps and then I said I wouldn't go any further, and told them to shoot me - I am sure they didn't shoot me, merely because I told them to do so. And because they knew the whole fuss, the war was coming to an end. In the next village - I don't know what it was called - the soldiers handed me over to the mayor.
That day I slept in the open air at the mayor's house, on the doorstep. Next day he took me to the outskirts of the village and told me that eight miles from there was some town called Nuremberg, and I should report to the police there.
They sent us off to Magdeburg, but we didn't know where we would end up. We had no food for six days. The train stopped in Magdeburg and they handed a letter to a woman who was then in charge of us. The letter probably said that they had to retreat because they were really cornered as the Americans and Russians were closing in.
I remember that the station was bombed. We were some 100 meters from the station and it was beautiful [the play of light] - if only we had been there just to watch it... It was a beautiful sight, but the truck was so packed, we couldn't move. We couldn't even raise our hands.
They left us there because I guess they thought this way they wouldn't be bombed. Shortly after the bombings stopped, the train started off, and we traveled quite a while. Then we got off and continued on foot.
I remember that the station was bombed. We were some 100 meters from the station and it was beautiful [the play of light] - if only we had been there just to watch it... It was a beautiful sight, but the truck was so packed, we couldn't move. We couldn't even raise our hands.
They left us there because I guess they thought this way they wouldn't be bombed. Shortly after the bombings stopped, the train started off, and we traveled quite a while. Then we got off and continued on foot.
Then they took us Malchow, to a small town. [Malcwow was a sub-camp of the Ravensbruck concentration camp.] Not far from the town there was a camp. They took us there. While we were walking across the town, the local Germans stood at the window smirking and laughing, and had fun watching us. The way we looked, they had something to laugh about. After we got out of the town, we went onto the road. Those who received us in the camp examined everyone for lice. It turned out I had lice.
They had been on the sweater the Polish girl had given me. Then they separated everyone with lice, but instead of sending us to get washed, they put us in barracks with others who also had lice. The atmosphere was much more humane, though. That's what I remember about Malchow. When we were taken away from there, the locals had been affected by the course of the war; there were empty houses, and those who remained there looked at us with their heads bowed, depressed. The exultation had disappeared.
They had been on the sweater the Polish girl had given me. Then they separated everyone with lice, but instead of sending us to get washed, they put us in barracks with others who also had lice. The atmosphere was much more humane, though. That's what I remember about Malchow. When we were taken away from there, the locals had been affected by the course of the war; there were empty houses, and those who remained there looked at us with their heads bowed, depressed. The exultation had disappeared.
After 18th January they took us to Ravensbruck. This at least wasn't a death-camp. Ravensbruck always reminds me of the rudeness of a female doctor. By the time we arrived there my shoes had been stolen, but I had managed to get some wooden shoes, much larger than my feet, so I lined them with rags. I had to wear those open shoes in the winter and they hurt my feet, which were all covered with sores. When we arrived there, I was happy to hear that we must wash up and we'd be able to see a doctor.
I washed my feet really clean and went to her for something to heal the sores more rapidly. She said those were not scabs, but dirt. She took a clip, grabbed my scab by its side and ripped it off, so the flesh was visible. We didn't do anything at Ravensbruck, apart from the time spent looking for lice on our own clothes. I only spent four weeks there. I even remember that we were sleeping four in a bed - you can imagine how 'fat' we must have been, if there was room for four of us. I slept beside a Polish girl, and my clothes looked so miserable she pitied me and gave me a sweater before they sent us off again. I had never had lice until then.
I washed my feet really clean and went to her for something to heal the sores more rapidly. She said those were not scabs, but dirt. She took a clip, grabbed my scab by its side and ripped it off, so the flesh was visible. We didn't do anything at Ravensbruck, apart from the time spent looking for lice on our own clothes. I only spent four weeks there. I even remember that we were sleeping four in a bed - you can imagine how 'fat' we must have been, if there was room for four of us. I slept beside a Polish girl, and my clothes looked so miserable she pitied me and gave me a sweater before they sent us off again. I had never had lice until then.
From Auschwitz we were taken to Birkenau. There were many wooden barracks there. They had probably been initially built for horses, because the stable fittings were still on the walls. Along the inside wall of the barracks there was a radiator, but it was never heated, not even on the coldest days. There was no heating at all, and there was nothing we could cover ourselves with.
After a while, towards the end, they put me to work with French women. There I also had to do some weaving. I listened to them as they were speaking, but didn't understand a thing. After half a day I asked for some scissors in French. One of them looked at me and said, 'Do you speak French?' I said, 'I thought I spoke French, but since listening to you I found out I don't.' I recalled that dad used to tease me after I came home from language classes, 'Speak with the Madame, use the language you are learning because you never know whether you'll find anybody who understands you.' These French women began laughing, because it turned out they were all speaking the dialects of their own regions. From then on we talked in French, and I got on very well.
I was sent to sweep the streets for a week. I remember that as I was sweeping, the guards were standing there and chatting, and they didn't even notice me. One preferred not to be noticed, otherwise one could end up having problems or being punished.
Then I recalled the time I was sitting with one of my suitors, a chief engineer, several years earlier, on Marguerite Island, in Budapest. There was a man sweeping and picking up the fallen leaves, and we didn't pay any attention to him, we didn't really bother about him. This was the same scene, just the other way around. This was a minor thing really, but it stuck in my mind.
Then we had to do some weaving using plastic and fabric. We had to weave them to be very strong. When we finished, two really big German blockheads came in and stretched them to see whether they were strong enough. How could I have made something they couldn't tear apart?
Fortunately, they didn't come to me, but they managed to tear apart some ropes. If so, they stripped the unfortunate responsible and put her naked out in front of the door, in the January cold, for hours.
Then I recalled the time I was sitting with one of my suitors, a chief engineer, several years earlier, on Marguerite Island, in Budapest. There was a man sweeping and picking up the fallen leaves, and we didn't pay any attention to him, we didn't really bother about him. This was the same scene, just the other way around. This was a minor thing really, but it stuck in my mind.
Then we had to do some weaving using plastic and fabric. We had to weave them to be very strong. When we finished, two really big German blockheads came in and stretched them to see whether they were strong enough. How could I have made something they couldn't tear apart?
Fortunately, they didn't come to me, but they managed to tear apart some ropes. If so, they stripped the unfortunate responsible and put her naked out in front of the door, in the January cold, for hours.
,
During WW2
See text in interview
The selections didn't frighten us at all. The rumors ran that they put sedatives in our food, but we thought it was all a fairy-tale and didn't believe a thing. But there were other things we didn't believe. We wouldn't believe anything until it was proved to be true.
Later I heard from a girlfriend from Budapest, who was working in the kitchen, that they were putting some powder in the meals, because it would have been impossible to keep so many women quiet without sedatives. The Germans had anticipated this, as they had with everything. They anticipated and prepared everything, and they knew how people were going to react.
Later I heard from a girlfriend from Budapest, who was working in the kitchen, that they were putting some powder in the meals, because it would have been impossible to keep so many women quiet without sedatives. The Germans had anticipated this, as they had with everything. They anticipated and prepared everything, and they knew how people were going to react.
Poland
I remembered that there was a girl whom I used to teach cosmetics for free back home in Marosvasarhely. She would surely get me something because she was getting a bigger ration of food. She had some sort of privileges amongst the prisoners. I went to her and asked her for some coffee because the doctor said I needed it. 'Oh, I got so little myself today,' she said, and I started to leave, 'but wait!' she continued -, 'I'll give you some of mine.' And she poured some coffee in my cup, filling it half-full. She had a whole pot. I never went to her again, nor to others. Then I got better and never felt any after-effects.
One day something happened to my throat, to my vocal chords. I could hardly talk. On the next day or the one after, we heard the female doctor was examining people in the main street of the camp. I went to her and asked what I should do. She kindly told me to eat more hot food because I might lose my voice for the rest of my life. I thought about where could I get something hot because people were killing each other for coffee.
Sometimes we had food, but on other occasions we didn't, and we ate as and when we could. On several occasions they brought us food, but I didn't get to eat, or even if I could get any, I didn't have anything to put the food in. I had no plate, no spoon; I had nothing.
Those who had a cup preferred to eat three or four times rather then to lend it to someone else. People weren't nice at all, they had to fight for their lives. I finally got myself a spoon, but I don't know how, and later a cup, too. When they brought us hot coffee - I don't need to say what it was like - there were so many people around the large pot that there was no way through.
Those who had a cup preferred to eat three or four times rather then to lend it to someone else. People weren't nice at all, they had to fight for their lives. I finally got myself a spoon, but I don't know how, and later a cup, too. When they brought us hot coffee - I don't need to say what it was like - there were so many people around the large pot that there was no way through.
I got acquainted with many Jews from Marosvasarhely in Auschwitz. I heard them mention my father's name, and I told them he had died. 'But how did it happen?' they asked. I said, 'Once he's dead, what difference does it make?' 'You had two brothers, what's with them?' they asked then. I told them that one was a butcher, and the other one a grist-miller. My older brother, Misi, was a surgeon and Andras got his permit to inherit and manage the mill. In those times in any upper-class family there had to be a manufacturer, a doctor or a bank manager. What was I supposed to do, tell them my father was a manufacturer, one of my brothers a surgeon and the other a mill owner?
I spent seven and a half months in Auschwitz. I was a fairly slim, good- looking woman, but it seems I wasn't slim enough to be taken to the incinerator, nor strong enough to work in the factory. After a while a woman from Marosvasarhely was put to work in the wash-room - where people were washing up, that is, they should have been washing up - and I was sent there, as well. I worked there for about a month and a half. There were some 450 sinks for washing up, it was a long trough with faucets above. The bricks were red and it was very clean. We wiped it every single day so it looked perfect, and we were instructed to let nobody in to wash up, because if so much as a drop of water had fallen on the floor and the Germans had noticed it, it would have been the end of the world. So we were just cleaning it, and when we had some quiet moments, and our boss wasn't around, we cleaned ourselves up a bit.
There were many horrible things we found in Auschwitz. First some Polish men in zebra suits got on the trucks. They had already been working there, and if they saw a child, they immediately told their mother to leave him or her. They already knew why, of course. We didn't know it yet, and there was no mother who would have agreed to leave her child. They first told us to write our names on our rucksacks, so we could get them later. They examined our things and took us off the train. I still don't know how I got off that high railcar. They immediately put us in lines of five. When a line started to walk - the officers stood there with Mengele, the doctor - and everyone who looked weaker or older was sent to the left side by Mengele. [Editor's note: It's only a presumption that Mengele himself selected people.]
They told us that the children and the elderly would be taken by car to the showers, while we had to walk. I was happy that mom wouldn't have to carry her bag. When mom went to him, Mengele saw that she had a small tumor on her neck, which she had several times asked to have removed by old Matyas Matyas from Kolozsvar. (But the doctor said: 'I won't do it, dear Ilonka, because it's just a small beauty mark and you never can tell what the glands of a woman are up to.' And, indeed, mom never had any problems because of it; she just had a mild fever from time to time.) Suddenly I noticed that mom, my girlfriend's mother and a seven-year old boy who lived in the same tent back in the brickyard, were going away. We didn't even have time to say goodbye. I asked a soldier where they were taking them. He said they were being taken to the showers by car. Their entire system was built on lies because if they had told us 'we are taking them away and you will never see them again', they would have had hysteria to face. This made everybody happy. So they took away mom and the others, and took us to the showers. We were just waiting to see them again somewhere, but it didn't happen; not then, nor later.
They told us that the children and the elderly would be taken by car to the showers, while we had to walk. I was happy that mom wouldn't have to carry her bag. When mom went to him, Mengele saw that she had a small tumor on her neck, which she had several times asked to have removed by old Matyas Matyas from Kolozsvar. (But the doctor said: 'I won't do it, dear Ilonka, because it's just a small beauty mark and you never can tell what the glands of a woman are up to.' And, indeed, mom never had any problems because of it; she just had a mild fever from time to time.) Suddenly I noticed that mom, my girlfriend's mother and a seven-year old boy who lived in the same tent back in the brickyard, were going away. We didn't even have time to say goodbye. I asked a soldier where they were taking them. He said they were being taken to the showers by car. Their entire system was built on lies because if they had told us 'we are taking them away and you will never see them again', they would have had hysteria to face. This made everybody happy. So they took away mom and the others, and took us to the showers. We were just waiting to see them again somewhere, but it didn't happen; not then, nor later.
They made us walk to the railway-station in Marosvasarhely. We had to carry the luggage we were allowed, no bigger than a backpack. They only let us take this much because they told us we were allowed to take only a little of this and that. They hurried us because everything was urgent for them. My cousin Sandor, Albert Mestitz's son, managed to get a pole, and put my mom's bags on it. They carried them together because she couldn't do it by herself. They put us in a boxcar, along with 72 other people. We traveled for four days and four nights. We weren't allowed to leave the truck, and they didn't give us any water, or anything else. At some stations they opened the car's door for some reason, but they closed it quickly. The trip itself was miserable: we had to squat on the floor because we had nowhere else to sit.
They took mom and me to the brick-yard. The first night we slept in the open air. The brick-yard was packed with people. People were crying and moaning everywhere. They had all left their normal lives behind. We thought we would, at worst, be taken to a Hungarian labor camp. Even in our worst nightmares we couldn't have imagined what was to come... We didn't know anything... We didn't do anything... It was better not to think... We had some food, but I don't really remember what we ate, or whether we had any appetite. We began to consider everything as a boring journey, an unwanted situation. Then they began taking people to the gendarmerie and beating them until they said where their valuables were. They had a jeweler there who told them he knew everyone who bought anything from him. When there was somebody there already taking a beating, he told the gendarmes to keep on beating him because he had bought some jewels from him. After the war the guy was arrested, then he emigrated somewhere. After a month, on 2nd June, they took us away. We were in the second group; the first had been taken away several days earlier.
The only good part about the whole thing was that my brother was left at home. Misi wasn't arrested because anyone who married a Christian before 1940 and also had a child, wasn't deported. Once, when my sister-in-law was with her little girl, Anna, in the park or somewhere where they could play and freshen up, someone came to their house. The servant didn't want to let them in, but they forced their way in. The servant told them in vain that the family was exempt from the law and they had no right to barge in; they took some four little rugs anyway and left. We never had a chance of finding them, so we never looked into it. When dad died, mom insisted on Misi and his family moving into our house, upstairs. Later I found out that the gendarme insisted on them getting on the carriage, as well. He couldn't [or wouldn't] read all the documents my brother presented him to prove to him they didn't have to go. My brother didn't want to go, he persevered, as he wasn't a weak person, and he had a wife and a child. The gendarme gave in eventually. My brother hid for ten days or two weeks, helped by the Csikis.
Leon Solowiejczyk
I turned 16 before the war broke out. My aunt, my family, they all gathered and discussed what they should do with me. And they decided I would distribute salt, in a wagon. The shopkeepers were to come and buy their salt from me. But this didn't work out, because the war broke out. Earlier Uncle Mordche Zelig, gave me a job watching his orchard, because that's what he did. He leased orchards from local squires and he picked the apples. Well, people did whatever they could. It was Poles who owned those orchards, but they leased them, mostly to Jews and they knew how to go about it - sorting those apples, packing them and shipping them to Warsaw, Vilnius and Katowice.
Uncle's orchard had to be minded in the fall. We minded that orchard at night, so that no one would make any trouble, steal the apples. In the daytime we made boxes. Later the apples had to be picked and packed into those boxes and they were sent to Lodz, to Warsaw. I remember that I was supposed to get 20 zloty for two months of work. That was quite a lot of money. I would have become independent. It would have been my first real cash. But the war broke out...
Uncle's orchard had to be minded in the fall. We minded that orchard at night, so that no one would make any trouble, steal the apples. In the daytime we made boxes. Later the apples had to be picked and packed into those boxes and they were sent to Lodz, to Warsaw. I remember that I was supposed to get 20 zloty for two months of work. That was quite a lot of money. I would have become independent. It would have been my first real cash. But the war broke out...
,
Before WW2
See text in interview
Later, in the late 1930s there was some fear, maybe not as visible. There were anti-Semitic articles in newspapers, there were these anti-Semitic leaflets, all kinds of various calendars, there was this witch hunt for the Jews, this 'Bij Zydow' [Polish: 'Get the Jews!'], but nobody paid much attention. Somehow you'd survive. And there was news from Germany. There they knew what Nazi ideology [15] was.
,
Before WW2
See text in interview
We also mostly had a good relationship with the parish priest. Well, when we were passing the church, we'd have to take off our hats, because [otherwise] you could encounter some... [problems]. But that was obvious, whenever you were in some office or at school, you'd have to take off your hat. I remember that when the bishop came, each community would welcome him in their own way. The Poles would put up altars, the Jews put up this gate, where the rabbi greeted the guests, the Byelorussians did something as well, but I don't remember what.
,
Before WW2
See text in interview
But those who did not want to go to the army and who were starving, they were peaceful. And nobody wanted to go to the army. Jews didn't want to either. Before the war, it was like this, they'd choose whom they wanted in the army. You had to be tall enough, weigh enough, you had to be healthy. The boys had to be healthy and fit. And those who didn't want to go, would starve themselves on purpose, so they would weigh less.
,
Before WW2
See text in interview