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My husband died on 9th May 2007. During the toughest times, our grandson Peter Cizmarik helped us. He even moved us from Lucenec to live with him in Bratislava. After his death, everyone suddenly remembered my husband. The funeral took place at the Jewish cemetery in Lucenec, and was arranged by our grandson Peter. Before the funeral, he was getting phone calls from the Office of the President and from the French, British and Israeli embassies. Peter took to the funeral his grandpa's uniform, awards, and also a gift-wrapped bottle of calvados that my husband had received on the 60th anniversary of the Allied landing in Normandy in June 2004.
He also brought three copies of an older edition of the novel ‘Count of Monte Cristo’ [by French novelist and dramatist Alexandre Dumas (1802-1870)]. After my husband had taken a ship from Beirut to Marseille during the war, he ended up on the famous island of If. On the same one where they’d once held Count Monte Cristo prisoner. In his interview for Domino forum in 2004, my husband said with an undisguised sense of humor: ‘After three days on the island of If, we went to the town of Agde, where the Czechoslovak army was located. There I got an army ID number, and they assigned me to the anti-tank artillery. To be more exact, they assigned me to one mare mule that was supposed to pull a cannon. The mule was such a bastard – excuse the expression – that the more energy you expended on her, the more odious she was. Then one farmer gave me some advice: my boy, you’ve got to be gentle with her, pet her, say come little mule, and she’ll go herself. And it really worked.’
During the first 20 minutes of the service, our grandson showed the beginning of Spielberg’s film ‘Saving Private Ryan.’ Those that have seen it know that the scenes in it are naturalistic. Maybe too much so. Like the reality on the beaches of Omaha on 6th June 1944, and many days afterwards. After representatives of the town, the Ministry of Defense and telegrams from the Office of the President, the chargé d'affaires of the Embassy of Great Britain, Tom Carter expressed his condolences in person. He spoke of how his country immensely values and respects people like Juraj Fischer. After all, from year to year there are less of them. The first secretary of the French Embassy, Xavier Rouard, spoke in a similar spirit, in Slovak and without notes. The merits and works of the deceased, were also praised by the consul of the Israeli Embassy, Chaim Levy. He then also participated as the only one of the diplomats present in the second part of the funeral at the Jewish cemetery.
I can’t talk about my trials and tribulations anymore. That’s why I’d like to end our interview with a poem that I wrote for future generations. So that they don’t forget that I was also here, that I also lived...
“Elmúlt egy év, elmúlt egy nap és huszonnégy óra.
Elmúlt egy hét, elmúlt egy élet. Egy élet és mindennapi élet.
Jöjj vissza nyár, hozd vissza a fiatalságom már!
Tudom, hogy ez mind csak álom!
Hozdd vissza a beteg férjem, nekem ő még így is kell...
Én majd meggyógyítom. Meggyógyítom a szeretetemmel.
Ó, jöjj vissza nyár! Add vissza a fiatalságom már.
Ó gyere vissza, ne hagyj itt! Még mi együtt fogunk menni a vasúton.
Kéz a kézben, nevetve fogjuk a gyerekeink kezét, és megyünk előre.
És megyünk. És megyünk a dombtetőre, hogy megmutassam a gyerekeimnek a szép világot. Ott fogtok élni boldogan, együtt az egész család.
Ne nézzetek hátra! Ott csak a szeretet vár. Nektek előre kell menni a dombtetőre.
Ott minden szép, nincs hazugság. Ott csak egyetértés van. És megyünk, és megyünk.
Én már nem tudok menni, fáradt a testem, és a testemmel elfáradt a lelkem is.
De akkor is megyek. Az út szélén majd lesz egy gödör, ott majd eltemetnek.
Lehet, hogy ott tesznek valami sírkövet és ráírjátok
„Itt nyugszik a drága jó édesanyánk, nagymama,
aki még a széltől is féltett minket.
Úgy nevelt felt és már nagyon várta a nyugalmat!”
Most nyugalma lesz neki. Aludd örök álmadat, drága jó nagymamám,
örök békében. Te vagy a mindenünk, aludd örök álmodat. Így is fogom csinálni.
One year, one day and twenty four hours passed.
A week passed, my life passed. One everyday life.
Come back summer, return me my youth!
I know that this is but a dream!
Return me my ill husband, I need him even so...
I'll make him well. I'll heal him with my love.
Oh, summer, come back! Return me my youth!
Oh, come back, don't leave me here alone! We'll still travel together by train.
Hand in hand, smiling, we hold our children by the hand and so stride forward.
And go. We go to the top of a hill, so I can show our children this beautiful world.
There we'll live happily, the whole family together.
Don't look around! Only love awaits you there. You just have to keep going forward, up to the hill.
There everything's beautiful, there's no lie there. There's only understanding there. And we're going, still going.
I can no longer go on, my body's tired, and my soul has become tired too.
But despite my tiredness I walk on. On the edge of the road there will be a pit where they'll bury me.
Maybe they'll even build a monument there, where you'll write:
"Here lies our dear mother, grandmother,
Who protected us even from the wind.
She brought us up and greatly desired rest!
Now she'll be in peace. Dream your eternal dream, my dear grandma,
In eternal peace. You're everything for us, just dream your eternal dream." And I'll do that.
He also brought three copies of an older edition of the novel ‘Count of Monte Cristo’ [by French novelist and dramatist Alexandre Dumas (1802-1870)]. After my husband had taken a ship from Beirut to Marseille during the war, he ended up on the famous island of If. On the same one where they’d once held Count Monte Cristo prisoner. In his interview for Domino forum in 2004, my husband said with an undisguised sense of humor: ‘After three days on the island of If, we went to the town of Agde, where the Czechoslovak army was located. There I got an army ID number, and they assigned me to the anti-tank artillery. To be more exact, they assigned me to one mare mule that was supposed to pull a cannon. The mule was such a bastard – excuse the expression – that the more energy you expended on her, the more odious she was. Then one farmer gave me some advice: my boy, you’ve got to be gentle with her, pet her, say come little mule, and she’ll go herself. And it really worked.’
During the first 20 minutes of the service, our grandson showed the beginning of Spielberg’s film ‘Saving Private Ryan.’ Those that have seen it know that the scenes in it are naturalistic. Maybe too much so. Like the reality on the beaches of Omaha on 6th June 1944, and many days afterwards. After representatives of the town, the Ministry of Defense and telegrams from the Office of the President, the chargé d'affaires of the Embassy of Great Britain, Tom Carter expressed his condolences in person. He spoke of how his country immensely values and respects people like Juraj Fischer. After all, from year to year there are less of them. The first secretary of the French Embassy, Xavier Rouard, spoke in a similar spirit, in Slovak and without notes. The merits and works of the deceased, were also praised by the consul of the Israeli Embassy, Chaim Levy. He then also participated as the only one of the diplomats present in the second part of the funeral at the Jewish cemetery.
I can’t talk about my trials and tribulations anymore. That’s why I’d like to end our interview with a poem that I wrote for future generations. So that they don’t forget that I was also here, that I also lived...
“Elmúlt egy év, elmúlt egy nap és huszonnégy óra.
Elmúlt egy hét, elmúlt egy élet. Egy élet és mindennapi élet.
Jöjj vissza nyár, hozd vissza a fiatalságom már!
Tudom, hogy ez mind csak álom!
Hozdd vissza a beteg férjem, nekem ő még így is kell...
Én majd meggyógyítom. Meggyógyítom a szeretetemmel.
Ó, jöjj vissza nyár! Add vissza a fiatalságom már.
Ó gyere vissza, ne hagyj itt! Még mi együtt fogunk menni a vasúton.
Kéz a kézben, nevetve fogjuk a gyerekeink kezét, és megyünk előre.
És megyünk. És megyünk a dombtetőre, hogy megmutassam a gyerekeimnek a szép világot. Ott fogtok élni boldogan, együtt az egész család.
Ne nézzetek hátra! Ott csak a szeretet vár. Nektek előre kell menni a dombtetőre.
Ott minden szép, nincs hazugság. Ott csak egyetértés van. És megyünk, és megyünk.
Én már nem tudok menni, fáradt a testem, és a testemmel elfáradt a lelkem is.
De akkor is megyek. Az út szélén majd lesz egy gödör, ott majd eltemetnek.
Lehet, hogy ott tesznek valami sírkövet és ráírjátok
„Itt nyugszik a drága jó édesanyánk, nagymama,
aki még a széltől is féltett minket.
Úgy nevelt felt és már nagyon várta a nyugalmat!”
Most nyugalma lesz neki. Aludd örök álmadat, drága jó nagymamám,
örök békében. Te vagy a mindenünk, aludd örök álmodat. Így is fogom csinálni.
One year, one day and twenty four hours passed.
A week passed, my life passed. One everyday life.
Come back summer, return me my youth!
I know that this is but a dream!
Return me my ill husband, I need him even so...
I'll make him well. I'll heal him with my love.
Oh, summer, come back! Return me my youth!
Oh, come back, don't leave me here alone! We'll still travel together by train.
Hand in hand, smiling, we hold our children by the hand and so stride forward.
And go. We go to the top of a hill, so I can show our children this beautiful world.
There we'll live happily, the whole family together.
Don't look around! Only love awaits you there. You just have to keep going forward, up to the hill.
There everything's beautiful, there's no lie there. There's only understanding there. And we're going, still going.
I can no longer go on, my body's tired, and my soul has become tired too.
But despite my tiredness I walk on. On the edge of the road there will be a pit where they'll bury me.
Maybe they'll even build a monument there, where you'll write:
"Here lies our dear mother, grandmother,
Who protected us even from the wind.
She brought us up and greatly desired rest!
Now she'll be in peace. Dream your eternal dream, my dear grandma,
In eternal peace. You're everything for us, just dream your eternal dream." And I'll do that.
Location
Slovakia
Interview
Viola Rozalia Fischerova