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Through the wall we could hear everything that was going on in the other room. ‘Get dressed and come with us.’ After a while they came into our room as well. My mother stuck me into a big bed that we had there and piled all of the duvets on top of me. One of the Guardists looked at me. We had false papers. The Guardist thanked us and the door closed. We all just watched, to this day it’s fixed in my memory, my grandparents and uncle walking, being led away across the long courtyard that was in front of the building. My grandma had sore and swollen legs, she walked with difficulty. My father was utterly devastated. In fact he suffered such a shock, which I only found out about when I was an adult, that as a result of that stress he became impotent. After the war he didn’t want to go for treatment. He was a young man, 43 years old, it was a minor family tragedy.
The superintendent’s wife came and said to us, ‘You’ll have to leave here, I’ll find you another place.’ One of the Guardists warned us, he was a more decent type, and said to us, ‘Mrs. Adamcova, tell those others to disappear from there as soon as possible. I could see very well what they are. It’s only that the child in the bed, which was so upset – because I was shaking and my teeth were chattering – I felt so sorry for it, that I didn’t say anything. I can vouch for myself, but I can’t vouch for my colleague.’ Mrs. Adamcova was a very decent woman.
There was one building in a street around the corner, which is still there, at least it was in May of last year, when I took a picture of it. It’s still there, but it’s only a ruin now. I don’t know if it’s ready for demolition, or reconstruction. It was a large rooming house with many tenants. The owner was named Mrs. Burzikova, a very decent lady. Mrs. Burzikova rented us a room from which I could see out into the street. I suffered terribly there, because we were shut up there for days on end, and I could see children walking to school, while I was constantly inside. As soon as we arrived she greeted us with a nice dinner. I remember that we had roast goose, but we didn’t even have a chance to eat it and already there was a raid, and again they were checking our papers. After the Guardists left, ‘Auntie’ Burzikova came over, she was very kind, and said in Hungarian, ‘My dears, I prayed one long Lord’s Prayer for you, that nothing would happen to you.’
We stayed there almost up until the liberation. My mother and I counted that in Piestany we had to move 13 times in all. Mrs. Burzikova’s building had a very unusual cast of characters living in it. One lady tenant worked as a waitress in the Hotel Europa and got along very well with the Germans. There was this one man, named Axel Lambert. He was a loud, tall man, who spoke German and took himself very seriously. After the liberation we found out that he had used the opposite tactics as we had. He was also Jewish, and pretended to be a German, this was how he intended to save himself. The house had one room that to me, a child, seemed to be an enchanted chamber. It was locked, sealed. Aunt Burzikova said that two Jewish sisters had lived there, someone had informed on them and they had dragged them away. One day the door was opened. I remember a beautiful pink umbrella and a mountain of knick-knacks, photographs. They liquidated it all without mercy. They had no feeling for it.
We spent only a certain amount of time in Mrs. Burzikova’s building, because when my uncle from Zilina came to see us and brought us money to pay the rent, on the train he had met a person who confided in him that he was harboring a Jewish family. My uncle asked him to take us in as well. So we moved there, so as not to be in the same place too long. These people had a grown-up son. The lady of the house had a very nasty, domineering nature. It’s stayed in my memory, that when they brought us rolls for breakfast, she had picked everything over. She picked out the soft or crispy rolls for herself, her son or husband. We ate the leftovers. My father and their son tried to dig a bunker underneath their house. Because they began to excavate it, I think that they finished it, too. The wife of that man, his name was Tonko Bartovic, was terribly against us living with them. She was constantly arguing with him.
The superintendent’s wife came and said to us, ‘You’ll have to leave here, I’ll find you another place.’ One of the Guardists warned us, he was a more decent type, and said to us, ‘Mrs. Adamcova, tell those others to disappear from there as soon as possible. I could see very well what they are. It’s only that the child in the bed, which was so upset – because I was shaking and my teeth were chattering – I felt so sorry for it, that I didn’t say anything. I can vouch for myself, but I can’t vouch for my colleague.’ Mrs. Adamcova was a very decent woman.
There was one building in a street around the corner, which is still there, at least it was in May of last year, when I took a picture of it. It’s still there, but it’s only a ruin now. I don’t know if it’s ready for demolition, or reconstruction. It was a large rooming house with many tenants. The owner was named Mrs. Burzikova, a very decent lady. Mrs. Burzikova rented us a room from which I could see out into the street. I suffered terribly there, because we were shut up there for days on end, and I could see children walking to school, while I was constantly inside. As soon as we arrived she greeted us with a nice dinner. I remember that we had roast goose, but we didn’t even have a chance to eat it and already there was a raid, and again they were checking our papers. After the Guardists left, ‘Auntie’ Burzikova came over, she was very kind, and said in Hungarian, ‘My dears, I prayed one long Lord’s Prayer for you, that nothing would happen to you.’
We stayed there almost up until the liberation. My mother and I counted that in Piestany we had to move 13 times in all. Mrs. Burzikova’s building had a very unusual cast of characters living in it. One lady tenant worked as a waitress in the Hotel Europa and got along very well with the Germans. There was this one man, named Axel Lambert. He was a loud, tall man, who spoke German and took himself very seriously. After the liberation we found out that he had used the opposite tactics as we had. He was also Jewish, and pretended to be a German, this was how he intended to save himself. The house had one room that to me, a child, seemed to be an enchanted chamber. It was locked, sealed. Aunt Burzikova said that two Jewish sisters had lived there, someone had informed on them and they had dragged them away. One day the door was opened. I remember a beautiful pink umbrella and a mountain of knick-knacks, photographs. They liquidated it all without mercy. They had no feeling for it.
We spent only a certain amount of time in Mrs. Burzikova’s building, because when my uncle from Zilina came to see us and brought us money to pay the rent, on the train he had met a person who confided in him that he was harboring a Jewish family. My uncle asked him to take us in as well. So we moved there, so as not to be in the same place too long. These people had a grown-up son. The lady of the house had a very nasty, domineering nature. It’s stayed in my memory, that when they brought us rolls for breakfast, she had picked everything over. She picked out the soft or crispy rolls for herself, her son or husband. We ate the leftovers. My father and their son tried to dig a bunker underneath their house. Because they began to excavate it, I think that they finished it, too. The wife of that man, his name was Tonko Bartovic, was terribly against us living with them. She was constantly arguing with him.
Location
Slovakia
Interview
Judita Schvalbova