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On the 2nd May we arrived to a huge plane territory. Before the train stopped we could see through the holes that people in striped clothes were disassembling the wrecks of airplanes, but we had no idea that we would ever have to do anything with that. Then they opened the cars and gentlemen in striped clothes started shouting, that everyone should leave everything in the cars, the women should leave their purses, too, and immediately get off the train. And they got on the train to make us hurry. One of them asked me in Yiddish how old I was. I understood this, because it is very similar to German. I said 15, then he told me: ‘say that you’re 17’. I didn’t know Yiddish, but fortunately I understood this. Then they got us off the train, and we had to line up five by five. I held my mother’s hand from one side, my aunt’s hand from the other, and on that side was my aunt’s husband, and someone else, but I don’t remember who anymore. I know that we went in rows of five. We walked along nice and slowly. They didn’t really make us hurry, but there were wolf-dogs, SS, so it was a threatening situation, but nobody said a loud word. They didn’t yell, didn’t threaten us. And then we arrived in front of an elegant German officer.
As it turned out later, that was Mengele. Interestingly he was very polite with us. He told my mother very politely: „Gnädige Frau, können Sie laufen?” [German: Dear lady, can you run?]. My mother didn’t understand a word in German, I used to pull her leg by saying that if Hungarian language didn’t exist, she would have to bark like puppies. And of course she didn’t understand the question. She told me: ‘What is he saying, what is he saying, what did he ask?’ I translated it to her that he asked where he should run. Then he said that we had to part temporarily. ‘Ladies please step to the left, men please to the right.’ They separated us, and I never saw my mother and my grandmother again until they came back from the deportation. I went with my aunt’s husband, with that certain stationer Eisinger, and they assigned us both to work. As I later found out, they assigned my mother and her sister to work, too.
As it turned out later, that was Mengele. Interestingly he was very polite with us. He told my mother very politely: „Gnädige Frau, können Sie laufen?” [German: Dear lady, can you run?]. My mother didn’t understand a word in German, I used to pull her leg by saying that if Hungarian language didn’t exist, she would have to bark like puppies. And of course she didn’t understand the question. She told me: ‘What is he saying, what is he saying, what did he ask?’ I translated it to her that he asked where he should run. Then he said that we had to part temporarily. ‘Ladies please step to the left, men please to the right.’ They separated us, and I never saw my mother and my grandmother again until they came back from the deportation. I went with my aunt’s husband, with that certain stationer Eisinger, and they assigned us both to work. As I later found out, they assigned my mother and her sister to work, too.
Period
Interview
Ferenc Leicht