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Gárdonyi Lajos

Életrajz

Gárdonyi Lajos kétszobás panellakásban él második feleségével. A lakás a 80-as évekből származó politúrozott bútorokkal van berendezve. A szekrénysorban néhány könyv, többnyire kalandregények. A falakon pár zsidó tárgyú kép, ezek veje munkái. Az interjú során komoly nehézséget jelentett a nagyfokú szubjektivitás.

A dédszüleimről nem tudok mondani semmit. Nem találkoztam velük. Az apai nagyszülőkről tudom, hogy ortodoxok voltak, minden ünnepet tartottak. Apai nagyapám, Grósz Jakab cukrász és pék volt. Derecskén született, 1870-ben [Derecske – nagyközség volt Bihar vm.-ben (járási szolgabírói hivatal, járásbíróság), 1891-ben 8300, 1910-ben 9300, 1920-ban 9900, az 1930-as években mintegy 10 000 főnyi lakossal. – A szerk.]. Nem tudom, milyen iskolát végzett, de kellett végezzen valami cukrász vagy pék szakiskolát, az biztos. Az első világháború idején a Kazinczy utcában volt egy pékség, a nagyapám ott sütötte a kenyeret. Úgy került Budapestre, hogy besorozták, s mivel pék-cukrász képesítése volt, azt mondták, jó, akkor te sütöd a komiszkenyeret a hadseregnek. Ezt az apám mesélte nekem. Nagyon vallásos, szakállas zsidó volt a nagyapám. Magyar volt az anyanyelve, és jiddisül is beszélt. A holokauszt idején már nem élt, Szatmárnémetiben van eltemetve, azt tudom.

Apai nagyanyám Lehner Malvin volt, róla is keveset tudok. Nem voltam náluk soha. Nagyanyámra homályosan emlékszem, kisgyerekkorom óta mindig itt van a szemem előtt, hogy meglátogatott bennünket. Nem tudom, mikor született. Azt sem tudom, hol halt meg és mikor. Ő csengeri volt [Csenger – nagyközség, Szatmár vm. (ma Szabolcs-Szatmár-Bereg megye); 1891-ben 3100, 1910-ben 3300, 1930-ban 4900 lakossal, a járási szolgabírói hivatal székhelye, csendőrőrs, gőzmalom, dohánybeváltó hivatal, takarékpénztár, posta- és távíróhivatal. – A szerk.]. Szatmárnémetiben, ahol éltek, ismerte mindenki őket. A Piac téren laktak, mindenki tudta, hogy Grósz Malvin meg Grósz Jakab itt lakik. A nagyszüleim dolgos iparosemberek voltak, közepes anyagi körülmények között éltek. A nagyanyám a háztartással foglalkozott, parókás, vallásos zsidóasszony volt. Ő is magyar volt, és természetesen jiddisül is beszélt.

Édesapám, Grósz Ignác, később Gárdonyi Imrére változtatta a nevét [lásd: névmagyarosítás]. 1900-ban született Derecskén, de gyerekkorában Szatmárnémetibe költöztek. Apám Szatmárnémetiben héberül is tanult valami vallásos iskolában, azt hiszem, héderben, de nem emlékszem pontosan. Aztán végigjárta az állami iskolát. Az apám anyanyelve magyar volt, de beszélt jiddisül is és németül is. Nagyon tudta a vallást, nagyon ismerte. Az első világháborúban hadiüzemi munkás volt Erdélyben, nem tudom sajnos az üzem nevét. Ott lett ő hadirokkant 1917-ben, amputálták az egyik lábát, mert rosszul kezelték, és vérmérgezést kapott. Apám csak keveset politizált Szatmárnémetiben, de mindig azt mondta, hogy én tovább itt nem maradok, ha elcsatolják Erdélyt [lásd: trianoni békeszerződés]. 1920-ban tehát átjött Pestre, s átszöktette a testvérét, Lipótot is, aki ezért Romániában katonaszökevénynek számított még akkor. Apámat a rokkantsága segítette hozzá, hogy könnyen átjöhetett Magyarországra. Hadirokkantnak számított, ilyen alapon minden hónapban rokkantsági nyugdíjat kapott – tizennyolc pengő tizennyolc fillért – 1939-ig, utána pedig 135 pengőre emelték fel a nyugdíját. Az Országos Társadalombiztosítási Intézettől [OTI] kapta a nyugdíjat, mert üzemben sérült meg. Apám tovább csak már az után tanult, hogy Pestre költözött. Műszerész iskolába járt valahol a Népszínház utcában. Kerékpár, varrógép, kismotor, autógumi-vulkanizálás – mindent csinált. Az én születésem környékén egy cég, amelyik gépeket szállított Afrikába, akart adni neki egy angol vezérképviseletet Afrikában, ő felügyelte volna a gépek javítását, és azért nem ment ki, mert én születtem. Erdélybe nem ment haza látogatóba sem a második bécsi döntésig. 1940-ben hazalátogatott, bement a húga fodrászüzletébe: „Kit tetszik keresni?” Azt mondja, Grósz Jakabot. „Mit mondjak neki, ki keresi?” „Mondja neki, hogy a fia.” Akkor szaladt az alkalmazott, nem volt ott a húga. Tessék már jönni Jakab bácsi, itt a fia. Hát nagyon boldog volt Tata.

Édesapámnak egy nővére, két húga és két öccse volt. Egy öccse meghalt itt, Budapesten, neki nem tudom a nevét, és nem is tudok róla semmit sem mondani. A másik öccse Lipót volt, akit apám átszöktetett Magyarországra annak idején. Lipót a Corvin Áruház csipkeosztályának lett a vezetője. A feleségének valamilyen üzlete volt a József körúton. Lipótot Pestről vitték el, munkaszolgálatban halt meg. A feleség túlélte, újraházasodott, itt van eltemetve, Pesten. Gyerekük nem volt soha. A nővérének nem tudom a nevét. Az egyik húgát Grósz Gizellának hívták. Fodrászüzlete volt Szatmárnémetiben. Gizellával és a nővérével nem tudom pontosan, mi lett. Ha jól tudom, Auschwitzban haltak meg. A másik húgának román neve volt, Carmela, mi Cuncinak hívtuk. Szatmárnémetiből az egész rokonságot elvitték, senki sem maradt meg a családból, csak Carmela. Ő úgy maradt meg, hogy megismerkedett egy kolozsvári fiúval, s vele együtt kiment Izraelbe [Akkor még Palesztina volt, brit fennhatóság alatt. – A szerk.]. Cunci Izraelben él jelenleg, két fia van és öt unokája, ha jól tudom. Annyira vallásosak, mint a többi zsidó Izraelben.

Anyai nagyapám neve Schiller Sándor. Baracskán élt, azt tudom [Baracska – nagyközség Fejér vm.-ben, 1891-ben 1900 lakossal, 1900-ban és 1910-ben kisközségnek számított 2000 lakossal, 1920-ban nagyközség 2100 lakossal. – A szerk.]. Azt is tudom, hogy kereskedő volt. Nagyon-nagyon régen, az 1930-as években, sőt, még előbb halt meg Baracskán, ott is van eltemetve a zsidó temetőben. A felesége Fischer Netti volt. Őt ismertem még, ez azt jelenti, hogy valamikor 1930-35 körül halt meg a nagymama. Baracskán van ő is eltemetve, a zsidó temetőben. Ő csengeri volt. Nem dolgozott, háztartásbeli volt. Nagyanyám pénteken gyertyát gyújtott, ezt tudom, de hogy mennyire volt vallásos, azt nem tudom. Anyai nagyapám különösen vallásos volt, legalábbis azt mesélték, én nem ismertem.

Az édesanyám Schiller Erzsébet. Baracskán született, azt hiszem, 1902-ben. 1941. február hetedikén halt meg Budapesten, itt is van eltemetve a zsidó temetőben. Elemi iskolát végzett Baracskán, méghozzá református iskolát, mert volt ott egy református templom és egy református iskola. Nem járt el dolgozni, háztartásbeli volt. Nem volt túl vallásos, de betartotta az ünnepeket, gyertyát gyújtott, de nem csinált hókusz-pókuszt. Magyar volt az anyanyelve, nem beszélt más nyelven.

Volt egy nővére, Schiller Sarolta. A háború előtt halt meg. Ő is háztartásbeli volt, özvegyasszony. A férje az első világháborúban halt meg, hősi áldozat volt. Sarolta néninek egy lánya volt, úgy emlékszem. Anyám másik nővére Weisz Sándorné Schiller Katalin volt, velük nem nagyon tartottuk a kapcsolatot a férje miatt. Neki két lánya és két fia volt, a két lánya maradt meg, két fia munkaszolgálatban halt meg. Egy lánya itt halt meg Pesten, a másik lánya pedig Kanadában él.

Anyám harmadik nővére Schiller Jolán. Ő volt a legvallásosabb a családban. Jolán néni tejcsarnokot vezetett. A férje taxis volt Pesten, azt hiszem, Weisz volt a neve. Volt egy lánya, Rózsi, akinek a férje, Laci, katonaszökevény volt Romániából. Aradi volt, 1937–38 körül szökött át Magyarországra. Ki nem akarták adni, mert akkor ott kivégzik a románok. Az a fiú beszélt románul, németül, franciául, angolul, olaszul, spanyolul, a héber nyelvet akkor tanulta. Itt nem maradhatott, a család összeadta a pénzt, és a feleségével együtt az utolsó gőzhajóval kimentek Izraelbe. Ott született az Eszter lányuk. A háború után visszajöttek. Az 1950-es években szegény Laci kísért egy csoportot Romániába, és holtan hozták haza, állítólag szívinfarktust kapott.  De azt is mondták aztán, hogy állítólag megismerték, és kilökték a vonatból. Átjöttek később a rokonai, az unokatestvérei, exhumáltatták, és megállapították, hogy nem szívinfarktust kapott, hanem erőszakos halállal halt meg. Ezért aztán az unokanővérem kapott pénzt is érte a magyar államtól. Eszter most Angliában él. A lányom szokott beszélgetni vele. Jolán meghalt még a háború előtt, s Rózsi is meghalt már, édesanyámnál idősebb volt.

Anyám húga, Klein Jenőné Schiller Gizella háztartásbeli volt, a háború után pedig a tizenharmadik kerületi tanácsnál dolgozott. Egy lányuk volt, az most halt meg. Anyámnak volt még két bátyja is. Schiller Andor, aki Veszprémvarsányban élt, és nős volt [Veszprémvarsány – kisközség volt Veszprém vm.-ben, 1891-ben 1100, 1910-ben és 1920-ban 1400 lakossal. – A szerk.]. Andor bádogos volt, a feleségének üzlete volt, piacon dolgozott. Három gyereke volt. Egyik munkaszolgálatban halt meg, a másikat egy nyilas agyonlőtte a testvére sírjánál. A harmadik disszidált Amerikába vagy Kanadába. Most hallottam, hogy eljött haza intézni a kárpótlását, utána visszament Amerikába, és meghalt. Volt még a Schiller Antal nevű bátyja anyámnak. Itt lakott Budapesten, a Petneházy utcában. Kereskedő volt, savanyúsággal és borral kereskedett. Volt három gyereke, egy lány, két fiú. A nagyobbik fiát elvitték, munkaszolgálatban halt meg. A lánya itt él, Pesten. A kisebbik fia szintén.

A szüleim házassága megbeszélt házasság volt [lásd: házasságközvetítő, sádhen]. Apám egyik nővérének férje Schiller Jolán nagynéném férjének volt a testvére. Tulajdonképpen ez a Jolán nagynéném hozta össze a szüleimet. Ők zsinagógában házasodtak, úgy gondolom, hogy a Páva utcaiban, mert a kilencedik kerületben laktunk [A Páva utca és a Tűzoltó utca sarkán lévő zsinagóga 1923/24-ben épült (Baumhorn Lipót tervei alapján). Szülei 1921/22 körül házasodhattak össze, akkor tehát a Páva utca 29. szám alatti zsinagóga még nem működött. – A szerk.]. A bátyám, Grósz István Sándor 1923. július huszonnegyedikén született, Budapesten. Az iskolát nem fejezhette be, két polgárit végzett, aztán a zsidótörvények alapján kitették [Grósz István Sándor 1935-ben fejezhette be a polgári iskola második osztályát. Ekkor még nem voltak érvényben zsidótörvények, sem egyéb, a zsidó származásúak iskolázását nehezítő rendeletek. Lásd: zsidótörvények Magyarországon. – A szerk.]. Részt vett egy mozgalomban itt, Pesten, ahol különféle menleveleket készítettek. De lebukott, és nem találkoztunk soha többé. Vitték egyenest a gázkamrába. Én Budapesten születtem, 1928. március tizennyolcadikán. Grósz Zsuzsanna, a húgom 1930. augusztus huszonötödikén született. Szintén Auschwitzban halt meg. Grósz Gábor Dezső 1933. augusztus tizennegyedikén született, Baracskán. Grósz Pál Tibor 1935-ben, szintén baracskai születésű. A legkisebb öcsém egy borzalmasan csintalan gyerek volt. Tisztára úgy nézett ki, mint apám gyerekkorában. Zsuzsa elemi iskolás volt. Gábor is, Pál is [amikor deportálták őket]. Mindannyian meghaltak 1944-ben vagy 1945-ben Auschwitzban.

Mi Budapesten éltünk, mégpedig a Remete utcában, a kilencedik kerületben. Mielőtt az öcsém született, úgy 1932–1933 elején kiköltöztünk a Fejér megyei Baracskára. A baracskai ház az anyai nagyszüleim háza volt. Minden testvér lemondott anyám javára, és így mi örököltük. Azt hiszem, a ház körül csak csirke, tyúk és egy-két liba volt. Nem foglalkoztunk vele, nem volt, aki gondozza. Először is sok gyerek volt. Apám a műhellyel volt elfoglalva, anyám a családdal, a gyerekekkel.

Kétezren laktak a faluban. Nem hiszem, hogy volt valahol is vezetékes víz. Nálunk egy időben volt villany, aztán kiszerelték az utcából, mert problémák voltak, úgyhogy nem volt villany. Petróleumlámpa volt. Mindenki dolgozott. Kereskedők, iparosok és földművesek voltak. Ki a földön dolgozott, ki a műhelyében. Baracskán tizenkilenc zsidó család élt. Zsinagóga nem volt, csak egy imaház. Rabbi a körzeti rabbi volt, Bicskén. Volt egy kántor a feleségével.

Gyerekkoromban sokkal többet tartottunk a vallásból, mint most. Emlékszem, a két öcsémmel Székesfehérvárra kellett menni, mert csak ott volt olyan ember, aki a körülmetélést el tudta végezni. A nagyünnepek természetesen meg voltak tartva. Nem voltunk bigott vallásosak, de betartottuk az ünnepeket. Megtartottuk a nagyböjtöt, a Pészáhot, a széderestét apám vezette le, szóval mindent megtartottunk [A nagyböjt a katolikus hitélet része, a hamvazószerdától nagyszombatig tartó negyvennapos időszak. Gárdonyi Lajos – mint mások is – valószínűleg a Jom Kipurkor előírt egész napos böjtöt nevezi nagyböjtnek. – A szerk.]. Szombattartók voltunk [lásd: szombati munkavégzés tilalma]. Nem is ettünk mást, csak kósert [lásd: étkezési törvények]. De most sem eszem disznóhúst. Nem a kóserság miatt, hanem mert egészségtelennek tartom. Nálunk minden böjt előtt sárgarépa-főzelék volt, és fasírt, búzafasírt vagy krumplifasírt. A szombati kalácsot azt apám csinálta meg mindig, csodálatosan értett hozzá. Duplán fonva, úgy senki nem tudott fonni kalácsot, mint ő! Anyám gyertyát gyújtott szombaton [Azaz péntek este, a szombat bejövetele előtt. Lásd még: gyertyagyújtás – A szerk.]. A húgomnak is külön gyertyatartója volt, ő is gyújtott. A Jahrzeitot is mindig betartottuk. Szombatonként együtt tanultam az apámmal. Ővele, mert a kántor nagyon gyenge volt, le tudta vezetni a liturgiát, de inkább azt is apám csinálta. Nagyon sokszor volt az apám az előimádkozó. Héberül imádkozni is apámtól tanultunk. A legkedvesebb zsidó ünnep gyerekkoromban a Hanuka volt. Nem öltöztünk be, de nem volt több zsidó gyerek, aki úgy tartotta volna a vallást, mint ahogy tőlünk megkövetelték [Beöltözni Purimkor szoktak a gyerekek. – A szerk.]. Volt, aki héberül imádkozni se tudott. A hittanóra úgy volt, amikor az elemibe jártam, hogy két iskola volt Baracskán. Egyik tiszta református, a másik állami iskola, de inkább katolikus. Amikor ott vallásóra volt, akkor mi mentünk a kántorhoz, és ő tanította a hittant. Azért aztán ismerem az Ószövetséget [Azaz a Tórát, az Ószövetség keresztény terminus. – A szerk.]. Anyám is járt zsinagógába, vallásos asszony volt.

A gyerekkorunk olyan volt, hogy mindent megcsinálhattunk, ami nem volt veszélyes. Nem mondhatnám, hogy apám szigorú volt, de következetes volt. Annyira következetesek voltak a szüleim, hogy hazajöttünk az iskolából, kézmosás, étkezés, beszélgetés, leckeírás. Nem ellenőrizte, hogy megcsináltuk-e a leckét, de nem mertük volna meg nem csinálni, annyira tiszteltük a szüleinket. Utána a játék. Volt, hogy apánk is velünk játszott. De tiszteltük a szüleinket; már felnőtt voltam, befejeztem az iskolát, és már másodéves inas voltam, és saját pénzem is volt, mert dolgoztam, de az apámnak, úgy mondtam, hogy vasárnap el szeretnék menni a moziba – nem el akarok menni, el szeretnék. És apám azt mondta: „Fiam, ma nem.” Tegeztük a szüleinket, egyedül a mostohánkat nem. Ő nem is várta el, sőt ragaszkodott a tetszikezéshez. Én anyámra hasonlítok. Nagyon szerettem anyámat, nagyon anyás voltam, mindig körülötte lebzseltem.

Gyerekkoromban magyarul beszéltünk. De apám – főleg a nevelőanyámmal –, így is, úgy is beszélt. Németül perfekt beszélt. Ez azért lényeges, mert amikor megérkeztünk Auschwitzba, úgy úszta meg apám, hogy odaállt Mengele elé, és perfekt németséggel azt mondta: „Én nekem ugyan egy lábam és egy műlábam van, de az első világháborúban én a németek oldalán harcoltam, és ott vesztettem el a lábamat.”

Édesapámnak az égvilágon minden történelmi könyve megvolt. Amikor gyerek volt, akkor is rengeteget olvasott. Mi minden könyvet, természetesen imakönyvet és egyéb olyan könyvet, ami szépirodalom, megkaptunk. Sajnos itt már nagyon megfogyott a könyvtár, helyünk sincsen.

Hozzánk minden évben lejöttek Budapestről a rokonok, mert ott van eltemetve a nagyanyám, a nagyapám. A baracskai vasútállomás elég messze volt tőlünk, ezért öt-hat parasztkocsit bérelt apám, és azok hozták be a vendégeket. Volt, amikor kétszer is kellett fordulni, annyian jöttek. Nagy ház volt, de az udvaron kellett megteríteni, mert nem fértünk el másképpen. Azonkívül anyámnak a húga és a lánya minden évben ott nyaralt nálunk. A férje nem, mert az állásban volt, de minden hétvégén jött a családjához. A másik nagybátyám felesége és a három gyereke is. Már nem is fértünk el annyian a mi lakásunkban, a szomszédtól kivettünk egy házat, és ott helyezkedtek el. Az unokatestvérem nagyon szerette anyámat. Mindenki szerette anyámat, minden gyerek. Nagyon nagy szíve volt anyámnak. A családért mindent [megtett]. Apám is olyan volt, hogyha bármelyik rokonnal, bárkivel valami probléma történt, segített. Baracskán volt rokon is, Schiller Adolf, anyai nagyapámnak a testvére. Az lakott ott a lányával és a fiával. Szatócsüzlete volt.

Az édesanyám meghalt 1941-ben. Kapott egy influenzát, és olyan gyógyszert adtak neki, amit nem lett volna szabad három-négy napnál tovább adni, és kapott egy gyógyszermérgezést. Felhozták Pestre, de már nem lehetett megmenteni. Apám újra megnősült 1942-ben, és elvette Breuer Hedviget. Azt tudom, hogy a második házassága apámnak a Kazinczy utcában volt. Mi, gyerekek nem vehettünk részt apám második házasságkötésén.

Breuer Hedvig 1901. augusztus tizenötödikén született Diszelben, Zala megyében [Diszel – kisközség volt Zala vm.-ben, 1891-ben 1300, 1910-ben 1400, 1920-ban 1500 lakossal. – A szerk.]. Nekik szőlőjük volt, ortodoxok voltak, és kóser bort termeltek Az ő családja a Prónay-különítmény elől menekült Diszelből Budapestre az 1920-as években [A Magyar Tanácsköztársaság bukása, 1919. augusztus 1. után létrejött, az állami intézményektől független tiszti csoportok. Leghírhedtebbek a Héjjas Iván és a Prónay Pál vezette tiszti különítmények. Áldozataik elsősorban kommunisták voltak, de antiszemita kilengéseikről is híresek voltak. Lásd még: fehérterror; antiszemita közhangulat az 1920-as évek elején. – A szerk.]. Horthy uralomra jutása után a Prónay különítmény végigszántotta egész Közép-Magyarországot. Ez egy csendőr különítmény volt, végiggyilkolták az egész Duna–Tisza közét, és a mostohaanyám családja akkor menekült el. Pesten a Népszínház utcában laktak. Örökké áldom a nevét, mert a négy testvéremet ő vállalta. A mostohaanyám, amikor hozzánk került, akkora szeretet adott, és akkora áldozatot hozott, amit én nem tudom, mivel tudnék levezekelni. Amíg élek, soha nem fogom őt elfelejteni, és minden alkalommal, amikor kádist mondok, megemlékezem róla. Szegény, ő került ki a többi testvéremmel, és ott is maradt Auschwitzban.

1942 körül költöztünk át a szomszéd községbe, Martonvásárra [Martonvásár – nagyközség volt Fejér vm.-ben, 1891-ben 2100, 1910-ben 2600, 1920-ban 2800 lakossal. – A szerk.]. Itt is van a családom nyilvántartva. Két évig laktunk itt, innen vittek el. Martonvásáron már egészen más volt. Az már ipari város, itt sokkal több zsidó lakott. Volt ott egy ügyvéd, Hackner, aztán ott volt Mautner, az kereskedő volt, akkor ott volt a Schwartz, hatalmas gyarmatáru nagykereskedő. Szegény öcsém imádta a lányát. Együtt jártak iskolába, elpirult, mikor róla beszéltünk. Gyönyörű templomunk volt Martonvásáron, és nagyon jó kántor, a Friedmann bácsi, ő egy nagyon nagy tudású kántor volt. Martonvásáron is jártunk hittanórára. Apámat itt is nagyon becsülték. Mikor bejöttek a németek március tizennyolcadikán Martonvásárra [lásd: Magyarország német megszállása], az egyik német tisztnek az autója elromlott. Egy sportkocsi volt. Bement a tiszt a Dreherhez – ez nagy sörgyáros volt Martonvásáron, s az ő autójához is csak apám nyúlhatott –, ő mondta, hogy egyedül a Grósz műszerész tudja megcsinálni.

Nagyon szerettem a tanáraimat, tényleg nagyon jó tanáraim voltak. A középiskolát én már itt [Budapesten] végeztem. Itt is nagyon sok jó tanárom volt. Gépiparit végeztem, de olyan magyar-történelem tanárunk volt, akinek mi nyeltük az anyagát. Az elsőt és a másodikat a Népszínház utcában jártam, majd átiratkoztam a Vendel utcába, a József Attila Technikumba, ott fejeztem be az iskolát. A legkedvesebb tantárgyaim a történelem, a földrajz és az irodalom volt. A történelem, a földrajz meg egyéb dolgok szeretete nem csak a tanárainktól, hanem otthonról is eredt. Technikusi érettségim van, gépgyártó technológiából érettségiztem. A foglalkozásom mechanikai műszerész. Rengeteg barátom volt az iskolában. Sajnos sok nem él már.

Tanultam németül, taníttatott bennünket apám. Volt egy zsidó tanár Martonvásáron, aki azért nem taníthatott az iskolában, mert zsidó volt. Egy cipészhez ment dolgozni, hordta neki és összeszedte a munkát, de tanított németül is.

Bokszoltam, kerékpároztam, szóval mindent csináltam. Volt olyan, hogy egy kerékpárversenyen fiatal gyerekkoromban elestem a baracskai országúton. Szegény jó anyám! Kaptam két nagy pofont, aztán nevetett. Nem voltam semmilyen sportklub tagja. Összeálltunk futballozni, kerékpározni. Amikor Martonvásáron laktunk, a futballpályára jártunk, mint a leventék [lásd: Levente-mozgalom]. Nekünk is muszáj volt menni, mert abban a korban voltunk. De mi, ketten a barátommal, zsidógyerekek nem mehettünk a többi gyerek közé. Semmit nem csinálhattunk, csak olyasmiket, mint például a százados autóját lemosni, meg a másik biciklijét. Szünetben az egyik oktató, egy nyálas szájú szarházi volt, nagyon utáltam, azt mondja, húzza föl a kesztyűt, és jöjjön velem bokszolni! „Oktató úr, ne akarja, mert ebből baj lesz.” „De, parancsolom! Zsidó gyereknek kuss!” A többiek ott álltak, röhögtek, tudták, hogy ebből baj lesz. Előbb csak úgy játszottam vele, csináltam a figurát, elhajolgattam. Aztán valahogy egyszer csak orron találtam. Mérges lett. Lendült, és aztán egy akkorát bevittem neki, hogy egy fél óráig nem tudott járni. Képzelje el! Odajött a százados, hogy mi volt. Elmondták neki. Nem bántott, mert apám javította az autóját ingyen. Azt mondta az oktatónak, hogy máskor olyannal húzzon kesztyűt, akiről tudja, hogy nem tud bokszolni.

Baracskán nem volt antiszemitizmus. Semmi, soha az égvilágon. Hogy mondjam?! Anyám például ott járt az unokatestvérével iskolába, azt mesélte, ha kicsikét pityókos volt a tanár,  „kitettem a lábamat, elbukott, senki nem mert szólni, hogy én csináltam”. A református pap a biciklijét odahozta javíttatni. Az igazgató például apámtól vett biciklit, vagy apámat bízta meg, hogy hozzon neki egy új biciklit. Ha egy varrógép elromlott: „Majd a Grósz bácsi megcsinálja.” Ha olyan volt, azt mondta anyám: „Jaj, fiam, menj föl a Mesztrák nénihöz, kérjél tőle tíz tojást, majd holnap viszed a pénzt”, akkor adott tíz tojást. Nem gyűlölték egymást az emberek. Minket a kutya nem háborgatott soha. A zsidóságunk miatt soha senkit.

Először életemben 1942-ben találkoztam antiszemitizmussal. Legerősebben Martonvásáron, volt ott egy-két sváb vagy a jó ég tudja, mi, de borzalmas volt. Két házzal odébb lakott az egyik, abból áradt a rosszindulat. És ugyanilyen volt a Drehernek a veje. Annyira németbarát volt, meg zsidógyűlölő, hogy nem mehetett be az apósa lakásába. Az egész dolgot akkor kezdtem nagyon érezni, és akkor kezdett nagyon elgondolkodtatni, mikor fölvarratták a sárga csillagot 1944-ben [lásd: sárga csillag Magyarországon]. Miért kell engem megbélyegezni? Kinek vétettem, vagy az öcsém kinek vétett nyolcévesen?  Erről nagyon sokat beszélgettünk egymás között, de keresztény barátainkkal is megbeszéltük.

Volt rádiónk. Én is tudtam detektoros rádiót csinálni. Hallgattuk az Amerika Hangját meg az angol rádiót [A BBC Londonból sugárzott magyar nyelvű adása a második világháború kitörése után 4 nappal szólalt meg először. A BBC többnyelvű – és a célterületeken általában betiltott – világszolgálata (World Service) a hitleri propagandát volt hivatott ellensúlyozni. – A szerk.]. Mikor Martonvásárra kerültem, volt ott egy ember, a Beszkárttól kidobott illető, akit kommunista múltja vagy a baloldali érzelmei miatt kidobtak, és az behívott engem sokszor rádiózni, hogy gyere ekkor meg ekkor. Ez 1942 és 1944 között volt. Elővette a trombitáját, úgy tett, mint aki játszik, és be volt állítva [az adás]. Megmutatta, ha bárki zörögne, ezt a gombot megnyomod, és ő meg csak trombitált, mintha játszanék.
 
Minket, baracskaiakat a bicskei gettóba tettek. Onnan meg is akartam szökni. Összebeszéltünk egy páran, fiúk, lányok, hogy levesszük a sárga csillagot, és elindulunk Budapest felé. De mikor elindultunk, megtudtuk, hogy Bicske határában vannak már a csendőrök, úgyhogy nem sikerült a szökés. A bátyámnak viszont sikerült, nem tudom, hogyan. Egyik nap eltűnt, megszökött, de sajnos őt is elvitték végül. A bátyám a mentésekkel bukott le Pesten. Ő egy olyan srác volt, hogyha valaki előtte leírta a nevét, akkor azt ő biztos utána írta, és így tudott menleveleket is hamisítani. Úgy mesélték nekem, hogy a Rákóczi út és a  Körút sarkán, a Blaha Lujza téren fogták el őket, többen voltak, és elvitték őket azonnal Auschwitzba. Bicskéről vittek bennünket, baracskaiakat Komáromba, a Monostori erődbe, ahol földbe vájt lyukakban aludtunk [A Monostori erőd 1850 és 1871 között épült a Bécset védő komáromi erődrendszer egyik utolsó elemeként. – A szerk.]. Bevagoníroztak mindenkit családostul, akkor följöttünk a Keletiig, és onnan aztán mentünk ki Kassán keresztül. Kassán még engedtek vizet inni, én még egyszer leszálltam, és ha gyorsan nem megyek fel, akkor korbáccsal agyonvernek. Miskolc, Kassa, Auschwitz. Ott vettek át minket a németek, addig csak a csendőrök voltak. 1944. június tizenötödike körül értünk oda Auschwitz-Birkenauba.

Auschwitz egy megsemmisítő láger [Megsemmisítő tábor – a gázkamrákkal felszerelt koncentrációs tábor korabeli elnevezése. – A szerk.]. Mi csak számot kaptunk [Az auschwitzi munkatáborok foglyainak bal karjára, az alkaron, a belső könyökhajlatban négy-, öt- vagy hatjegyű számot és esetleg betűjelet is tetováltak, s ezt a jelzést a továbbiakban a nevük helyett viselték. Mintegy 405 ezer ilyen azonosító számról maradt fenn kimutatás. A regisztrált foglyok közül összesen 65 ezer maradt életben. – A szerk.]. Az enyém volt 775, az apám volt a 774-es. Közvetlenül a krematórium mellett volt a barakk. Az egyik felében cigányok voltak, a másik felében mi voltunk. A barakk mellett volt egy külön lágerrész, ott voltak a zwillingek, az ikergyerekek, akikkel kísérleteztek. Egyik éjjel a barakk tetejéről végignéztük – oda másztunk föl, mert kimenni nem volt szabad – a cigányok elégetését. Jajgatás, sikoltozás, egy éjszaka alatt az egész cigányságot elégették családostul, gyerekestül, mindenestül. Előbb gázkamra, utána krematórium. És akkor még azt el kell mondjam, hogy a zwillingláger mellett volt az a bizonyos árok, ahová belelökték, leöntötték benzinnel, és meggyújtották a zsidókat [Auschwitzban 1944 nyarán nem bírták a krematóriumok a terhelést, Otto Moll SS-főtörzsőrmester, a krematóriumok parancsnoka nagy égetőgödröket ásatott: összesen kilenc, hatalmas (40-50 méter hosszú, 8 méter széles és 2 méter mély) árkot, ahol három sor hullát fektettek egymásra,  benzinnel lelocsolták és meggyújtották. – A szerk.]. Ott is égettek, mert a krematórium már nem győzte. Ezt mi mind láttuk!

Az egész családdal ugyanabban a lágerban voltunk Auschwitzban. Apám borotválta az SS-eket, akik nem tudták, hogy ő jól tud németül, és mindent hall. Mindent megértett, és megtudta, hogy előbb a cigányokat, aztán majd a zsidókat is meg fogják semmisíteni. Megbeszéltük, hogy innen elmegyünk az első transzporttal, akárhova, valami munkára. Összehívta a rokonságot, barátokat, ismerősöket, mindenkit, pedig anyám nővérének a férjével soha életében nem beszélt. Pedig egy faluban laktunk korábban. Anyám is ritkán beszélt a nővérével, nem jártak össze a férje miatt. Könyörgött neki, „Sándor, gyere velünk!” „Nem!” Nem jöttek, egy se élte túl.

Jött egy alkalom, Németországba lehetett az erdőbe munkára jelentkezni. Apám jelentkezett, engem is fölvettek, és szeptemberben elvittek bennünket Mühldorfba. Mühldorf Münchentől keletre van, majdnem az osztrák határnál, de Dachauhoz tartozott. Nem tudtuk, hova megyünk. Mi ketten, meg még egy páran jöttek. Kegyetlen munka volt, de a Mindenható velünk volt, ez volt a szerencsénk. Mert én nem tudom másnak tulajdonítani, csak ennek azt, hogy túléltük. Ma már senki sem tudja, hogy ott láger volt. Valamikor ott egy hatalmas repülőtér volt. A németek a repülőgépeket odahozták a barakkokhoz, zsákkal, fenyőfával letakarták, jöttek az angol repülőgépek, leszálltak a repülőtérre, és ronccsá lőtték őket.

Én minden gazemberségben benne voltam, mert abból lehetett csak megélni, hogyha az ember mindenhol feltalálta magát. Aki nem, annak annyi volt. Ha lopni kellett, én loptam. A franciák, spanyolok, lengyelek, litvánok szemetek voltak, a litvánok különösen. De a görögök a legjobb barátaim voltak. Volt egy nagyon jó görög barátom, a munkahelyen én figyeltem, ő meg ellopta a német őrnek a kajáját. Egy alkalommal odajött egy sváb tiszt, bácskai sváb gyerek, jól beszélt magyarul – Az SS-eknél nagyon sok bácskai sváb katona volt, minden sváb gyereknek kötelező volt bevonulni az SS-be –, s azt kérdezte: „Ki van közületek, aki ért az asztalos meg az ácsmunkához?” Ketten jelentkeztünk, én és egy kis vékony, szalmaszál emberke. „Mit kell tenni?” „Őrbódét csinálni.” Hát az úgy nézett ki, mint egy falusi vécé. Azt mondta: „A büdös életben soha nem voltatok ti se ácsok, se asztalosok! Mi volt a te szakmád?” „Műszerész, a másiké zongorahangoló.” „Ilyen bátrak voltatok!” De ez azt jelentette, hogy nem kellett szenet zsákolni. Apámat közben februárban hordágyon vitték el, akkor már csont és bőr volt, a műlába sem volt már meg, azt hittem, nem fogom többet látni. Tífuszos volt, és nagyon le volt robbanva. Nagyon rosszul nézett ki, lesoványodva egy kocsin feküdt: „Fiam, nem tudom mi lesz velem.”

Aztán 1945 áprilisában Mühldorfból megindítottak Tirolba, a hegyekbe. De mikor már úton voltunk, az amerikaiak úgy körbekerítették a helyet, hogy nem tudtak továbbvinni, egy fürdővároskánál álltunk le. Aztán volt egy repülőtámadás, de ki tudtuk nyitni az ajtót,  kiugráltunk a vagonból, én egy ágyás közé bújtam el. Mikor beértünk a városba, az állomásparancsnok azt mondta, nem engedi tovább a vonatot, mert a következő állomáson szétlőttek géppuskával az SS-ek egy egész szerelvényt. Egy nagy porfelhőt láttunk, azt hittük, hogy a németek jönnek. De nem, amerikaiak voltak. Április huszonkilencedikén felszabadítottak minket, egy amerikai rabbi is beszélt nekünk, néhányan fordították. Számomra igazából ekkor ért véget a háború, április huszonkilencedikén. Pár napig ott voltunk még, abban a tiroli városkában. Emlékszem, reggelente még esett a hó, de már délután a tóban tudtunk fürödni és mosakodni. És akkor a francia Vöröskereszt bevitt minket május kilencedikén München külvárosába, oda járt ki a villamos, úgy is hívták azt a részt, hogy Freising. És ott egy laktanyában helyeztek el, csodálatos életünk volt. Szépen berendezett szobákban voltunk, tiszta ágynemű, minden az égvilágon. Ők látták el a felügyeletünket meg az élelmezésünket.

Ott jöttem össze újból egy nagyon rendes emberrel, őskeresztény volt. A szülei nagykereskedők voltak Kaposváron. Először Auschwitzban találkoztam vele, tévedésből bevágták közénk, mert hátizsák volt rajta, hiába mondta, hogy ő nem zsidó, aztán ott volt Münchenben is. Mintha az apám lett volna, úgy bánt velem. Sajnos teljesen elvesztettem a nyomát, a háború után sokat kérdezősködtem utána, de senki sem tudott róla. Münchenben voltam augusztusig, akkor elmentem Dachauba, még augusztusban. Egy fiú jött júniusban, az mondta, hogy „Apád él, Dachauban van”. Nem akartam elhinni. A jó ég tudja, hogy hova vitték, de ott, Dachauban szabadult fel. A műlába már nem volt meg. Aztán megbeszélte ott mindenkivel németül is, meg tolmácsolták az amerikaiaknak angolul, hogy ő csinál magának műlábat, engedjék be őt Münchenbe, egy gyárba, ahol esztergapad van. Csinált magának műlábat, esztergált. Olyan ember volt. Én nem akartam hazajönni, de apám erősködött, s így hazajöttünk.

1945. augusztus tizennyolcadikán érkeztünk vissza Budapestre Sopronon keresztül. Linzig vonattal jöttünk. Jött a kalauz: „Kérem a jegyeket!” Azt mondta neki apám – voltunk vagy huszonöten –, azt mondta neki: „Jegyet adtatok, amikor bennünket ide kihoztatok? Gyorsan hagyd el a kupét!” Linznél villamossal kellett átmenni az orosz zónába. Villamos ment át a hídon, de csak a híd közepéig, mert a híd közepén volt a demarkációs vonal, az amerikaiak az egyik oldalon, az oroszok a túloldalon, én maradtam utoljára, még kiabált apám: „Gyere már, gyere már!” Nem akartam menni, az amerikai katona is mondta, maradjál, ne menjél. Én nagyon-nagyon sok hibát követtem el, amit nem bocsátok meg magamnak soha, de köztük ez volt a legnagyobb, hogy végül átmentem a hídon. Apám bement ott a kommunista párthoz, és kaptunk egy teherautót. Se benzin, se gáz, semmi nem volt. Voltak kátránnyal átitatott kis fadarabok. Vitt egy sofőr egy darabig bennünket, aztán azt mondta, ő tovább nem megy. Azt mondta neki az apám: „Szállj le!” Leszállította, és apám vezette tovább az autót Bécsújhelyig. Bécsújhely előtt „Sztoj!” [állj! (orosz)]. Nem mehettünk. Meg kellett a hegyeket kerülni, az autót elvették, és aztán mikor már a hegyeket megkerülve, beértünk egy pajtába, ott megaludtunk. Bementünk Bécsújhelyre, a várostéren vártak bennünket az oroszok. Aztán apám megint bement a kommunista pártba, ott beszélt valakivel. Elengedtek bennünket. Bécsújhelyen a vonatra vártunk az állomáson, odajött vidéki öltözékben egy nő. Beszélt magyarul, beszélgettünk, hogy honnan jöttünk, kik vagyunk, hogy vagyunk. Mutattuk neki az elbocsátó levelet, amit kaptunk. Mindenről kikérdezett az a nő bennünket. Egy olyan tehervonattal mentünk Bécsújhelyről Sopronba, amin birkákat szállítottak. Máshol helyünk nem volt, a lépcsőn álltunk. Átmentünk Sopronba, megjelent ugyanaz a nő orosz tiszti egyenruhában. Elmondta, hogy ő figyelt minket. Mások is jöttek, de azokat karanténba tették Sopronban. Nekünk papírokat, pénzt, vonatjegyet adtak, és hazautaztunk.

1945 augusztusában tértem vissza a deportálásból. A Bethlen térre mentünk, ott fogadtak és vettek nyilvántartásba. Semmink az égvilágon nem maradt. Mindenünket kifosztották, apám műhelyét, a lakásunkat, mindent az égvilágon. Sok mindenünk volt nekünk, volt ezüst gyertyatartónk, minden egyéb, ami kellett egy zsidó családban. Meg a műhely, rengeteg minden, teljes felszerelés, meg még az ott lévő kerékpárok, ami nem is a miénk volt, csak javításra volt beadva. Elmentünk Martonvásárra, de szegénység, nyomor volt mindenütt. Azt mondta apám: „Fiam, nézz körül, ez a családod. Mennyivel lesz nekünk több, ha mi ezt a szekrényt visszavesszük ezektől? Na gyere, menjünk!” Fölültünk a vonatra, és visszajöttünk Pestre. Semmit, egy szöget nem vittünk el. Budapesten telepedtem le, laktam majdnem minden kerületében. Volt, ahol csak egy fél éjszaka, mert annyi volt a poloska, hogy elmenekültem.

A mostoha nagyanyám a Kazinczy utca 21-ben lakott, szoba-konyha. Ott lakott a másik lányának a két lánya, egy fia meg egy unokatestvére. Meg mi ketten, hét fő. Akkor azt mondta apámnak a volt mostohámnak a barátnője és annak a férje, akik a Dob utcában laktak: figyeljetek ide, van egy szobánk, igaz, csak egy vaságy van benne, meg egy asztal. Ha jó nektek, nyugodtan használhatjátok. Így aztán odamentünk apámmal. Később aztán dolgoztam. Olyasmit is csináltam, ami feketézésnek számított [lásd: feketézés, cserekereskedelem], csempész cigarettát hordtam biciklivel, de nem érdekelt. Pénzt kerestem. Próbáltam fenntartani magamat.  
   
1948-ban vonultam be a magyar hadseregbe katonának. Elkövettem ezt a nagy hibát. Azt mondták nekem, hogy legyek tiszt. Elvégeztem egy iskolát, fölavattak tisztnek. Utána le akartam szerelni, nem engedtek. 1956-ban még a katonaságnál voltam. Akkor lett tele a hócipőm, amikor bekerültem az ottani egészségügyi szervezetbe. Két tiszt sebesülést vagy betegséget kapott, az akadémiai tanács följött, és azokat látogatta, és tőlem meg sem kérdezték, hogy magával mi van, miért fekszik. Novemberben szereltem le. Szeretném kitörölni az életemből ezt a katonáskodást, ugyanúgy, mint ahogy szeretném az életemből kitörölni azt a marhaságot, hogy visszajöttem ebbe az országba. Ha nem találkozom össze apámmal kint a felszabadulás után, nem jöttem volna vissza.

A kivándorlás nehéz dolog, de őszintén megmondom, foglalkoztatott. 1948-ban, mikor katona lettem, volt egy fiú, aki szervezte az aliját, de akkor már nehezen mozgott apám. Volt egy orosz százados, az is kivitt volna Ausztriába. 1956-ban, mikor már úgy csendesedett a dolog, a házmesterünk a Király utcában odaállított egy mentőautóval, és mondta: „Elviszlek benneteket, minket senki sem állíthat meg!” De vagy a feleségem, vagy a gyerek volt beteg, s nem tudtunk elmenni. Én elmentem volna. Sokan kimentek a rokonok közül. Az egyik fiú közvetlenül a háború után ment Németországba, ott kiképezték péknek. 1956 után a feleségem unokatestvére is kiment. Miskolcról menekültek a két lányával és a férjével. Voltak azóta itthon már többször is. Izraelben nem jártam soha. A rokonokkal levélben tartjuk a kapcsolatot. Nagynénémmel kétszer-háromszor leveleztem, de aztán nem válaszolt, én sem írtam.

Dolgoztam a Beloianniszban és a Fővárosi Finommechanikai Vállalatnál – Budapesten, a  Nagydiófa utcában volt –, dolgoztam tulajdonképpen az életem nagy részében. A Fővárosi Finommechanikából mentem nyugdíjba, egy évvel a korhatár előtt, mert közben megbetegedtem. A munkámhoz kellett a német nyelvtudás, mert anyagbeszerző voltam, és rengeteg külföldivel volt kapcsolatom, osztrákkal, némettel, angollal. Úgyhogy kellett valamit tudnom németül.

Én mindig munkából éltem. Nem azt mondom, hogy feldobott a pénz, hónapról hónapra éltünk. Feleségemnek se volt nagy fizetése. Szerényen éltünk, de becsületesen. A rendszerhez úgy viszonyultam, hogy hagyjanak békén. Nem fogadtam el azt, amit csináltak. A Szabad Európát hallgattam. Nehéz periódus volt a család számára, amikor a keleti blokk megszakította Izraellel a diplomáciai kapcsolatot [Magyarországnak 1967–1989 között nem volt diplomáciai kapcsolata Izraellal. – A szerk.], hisz apám egyik testvérének a férje az izraeli nagykövetségen volt kereskedelmi attasé. El kellett hagyják mindketten az országot. A Kádár korszak második időszaka egészen más dolog volt, mert már nyugatra is járhattunk, igaz, hogy nem sok pénzzel, de mehettünk, ez volt a „vidám barakk” [lásd: utazás külföldre 1945 után; kék útlevél]. De ugyanúgy ment a koncért a veszekedés és a marakodás. A cégtől hivatalosan voltam kinn vásárolni az NDK-ban, a nyolcvanas években, és Svédországban is voltam kétszer. Moszkvában voltunk egyszer a vállalattól, szakszervezeti szervezés volt. Vonattal mentünk, a szállodánk a minisztérium mögött volt egy utcában.

A zsidóság nem volt probléma a kommunizmus alatt, mert olyan társaságban voltam, ahol nem számított. Tudták rólam, hogy zsidó vagyok, én soha nem tagadtam ezt. A munkatársak keresztények voltak, és tudták, hogy én megjártam Auschwitzot, és nem is tettek fel fölösleges kérdéseket. Nagyon rendes gyerekek voltak. Csak egy emberről lehetett tudni, aki állítólag nyilas volt, aztán kommunista lett. Azt értékelték bennem a kollégáim, hogyha munka van, akkor én azt megfogom, és azt is tudták rólam, hogy rám mindig lehet számítani. Szóval a munkahelyemen fantasztikus jó baráti társaság volt addig, amíg jött a telekügy. Mindenki telket vásárolt. Addig minden áldott nap munkaidő után lementünk az étterembe, pingpongoztunk, sakkoztunk, kártyáztunk, beszélgettünk. Attól az időtől kezdve, már mindenki rohant is kifele. Így csak azok a barátok maradtak meg, akik nem túrták a telket.

A névváltoztatást 1951-ben csináltam. Nem tudnám most megfogalmazni, hogy miért változtattam meg a nevem végül is Grószról. De akkor mindent gyűlöltem, ami németes. Annyi keserűséget okozott nekem a német, hogy még a nevemben sem tudtam elviselni. Ha lehetne, visszacsinálnám. De akkor a jogosítványomat, a személyi igazolványt, az égvilágon mindent meg kell változtatni, és ezt az én koromban már nem akarom.

Az első feleségemet Reichmann Amália Gyöngyinek hívták. 1951-ben házasodtunk össze. A feleségem 1932-ben, Miskolcon született. Zsidó asszony volt, méghozzá nem is akármilyen családból. Szendrői ortodox zsidó családból származott [Szendrő – nagyközség volt Borsod vm.-ben, 1891-ben 2600, 1910-ben és 1920-ban 2600 lakossal. – A szerk.]. Egyedüli gyerek volt. Négy polgárit [lásd: polgári iskola] végzett. A Dob utca 34-ben lakott, szemben a zsidó hitközséggel. Mi a Király utcában laktunk, akkor apám a Frankel Leó utcába költözött. A feleségem az Állami Könyvterjesztő Vállalatnál bolti eladó, adminisztrátor és pénztáros is volt.

A lányom 1953. június másodikán született. A holokausztról tudott mindent már gyerekkorában. A lányom nem nagyon tartja a vallást, a férje is keresztény. Templomba se jár. Amit az ünnepekről tud, azt leginkább a nagyapjától tudja. Az apósom nagyon vallásos volt, sokáig együtt laktunk, ő mesélt neki ezekről a dolgokról. De a lányomat inkább a zene érdekelte, nyolc évig tanult zenét, csellózott. A családdal minden évben jártunk nyaralni. Minden évben végigjártuk a Balatont, voltunk Sopronban, a Lövérekben, Miskolc fölött, Bükkszentkereszten, Hajdúszoboszlón, Miskolctapolcán. Meg jártunk uszodába. A lányom dolgozott a Magyar Nemzeti Bankban, a Kereskedelmi Bankban és a Kereskedelmi és Iparbankban. Most a Deutsche Banknál van. Alig volt ott három hónapig, kiküldték Dublinba egy évre. A vőm a TV-nél külsős, szabadidejében zsidó témájú képeket fest. Egy unokám van. Leérettségizett, aztán kommunikációs szakot végzett a Havas Henrik-féle iskolában.

Az első feleségemmel harminchat évig éltünk együtt, 1988-ban halt meg. Zsidó rítus szerint temettük. 1988-ban lettem özvegy, és 1993-ig az voltam. Azt hittem, hogy mindent tudok, főzni, mosni, takarítani, engem nem érdekel senki. Aztán föladtam egy hirdetést az „Új Életben”, és így kerültünk össze a mostani feleségemmel, Fischer Mariannával. Az ő férje 1989-ben halt meg. A feleségem Debrecenben született, 1935-ben. Az első férjével költözött Budapestre. Könyvelő volt egy bankban, most nyugdíjas. A feleségemnek nincs testvére, és gyereke sincs. A lányom olyan neki, mint a sajátja. Nagyon nagy szerencsém van!

Polgárilag nem esküdtünk össze, de a zsidó vallás szerint összeesküdtünk [lásd: házasság, esküvői szertartás]. Nagyon érdekes volt, fölmentem a rabbi igazgatóhoz [főrabbihoz – A szerk.] a Síp utcába, és mondtam neki, hogy szeretnénk összeesküdni. Semmi akadálya, mondta, csak hozzunk igazolást, hogy zsidók vagyunk. A feleségemnek csak a holokauszttal kapcsolatos iratai voltak ott, mert ő debreceni, az apját Fischer Dezsőnek hívták. „A Fischer bácsinak a lánya, aki a bankba járt dolgozni?” – kérdezte a rabbi. Mondom, „igen”. Azt mondja erre: „Nem kell semmilyen igazolás, hadd csináljam én meg, én ismertem a Fischer bácsit, mikor kicsi gyerek voltam, anyukám mindig veszekedett vele, ő jött összeszedni a pénzt, és mindig későn jött, és mindig mondtam anyukámnak, hogy ne veszekedjen a Fischer bácsival, mert én kapok tőle cukrot meg csokoládét.”

A hitközséggel a kapcsolatot tökéletesen tartottam azelőtt is. Rendszeresen fizettem a hitközségi adót. Ma is rendszeresen eljárok a templomba, különösen nagyünnepekkor. Egy időben a Frankel Leó utcai zsinagógába jártam, mert a harmadik kerületben laktam, mielőtt ideköltöztem. Mostanában a Dohány utcai zsinagógába járok. Befizetem rendszeresen az adót is, meg ha kell valami, azt is. Rendkívül jóleső érzés, amikor tömve látom a zsinagógát, és kinn, az utcán állnak az emberek. Csak rosszul viselem el, amikor smúzolnak, és alig hallani. Én mindig a szószék előtt szoktam ülni, jobboldalt, a szélén. Tudok olvasni héberül. Már sok mindent felejtettem, de azért az imakönyvet elimádkozom, nem olyan gyorsan, mint más, de szépen magamban tudom, hogy mit kell elmondani, és el tudom mondani. Most sem eszem disznóhúst. Nem a kóserság miatt, egyáltalán nem eszem disznóhúst, mert egészségtelennek tartom. A szombatot őszintén megmondom, hogy nem tartom.

A szüleim után mázkirt mondok. A Jahrzeit nálunk úgy van, hogy amíg fiatal voltam, addig minden évben betartottam szigorúan a böjtöt, úgy, ahogy annak idején édesanyámtól láttam, mert én nagyon szerettem édesanyámat. Hetvenhét évesen már nem szabad böjtölni, nem is engedik. Most úgy tartjuk a megemlékezést, hogy mikor tudjuk, hogy megemlékezés van, van egy kis mécsesünk, amit bedugunk a konnektorba. Van rengeteg halottam. A temetőben minden évben rendszeresen körbejárok, és rendezem a sírjaimat. Anyám itt lakik, a Kozmában [A Kozma utcai zsidó temetőben – A szerk.], apám megnősült, tehát nem együtt vannak, de közel egymáshoz. A mostani feleségemnek itt van eltemetve az anyja, a férje, az anyósa, a férjének a nagynénje, az egyik bátyja, ezeknek is a sírját mi tartjuk rendben. És minden évben lemegyünk Debrecenbe, mert ott van a két nagynénje, a nagymama, az apukája eltemetve.

Máig büszke vagyok rá, hogy zsidó vagyok. Az összeírásnál sem tagadtam le [Gárdonyi Lajos a 2001. évi népszámlálásra gondol, ahol opcionálisan meg lehetett jelölni a vallást. – A szerk.]. Azt mondja, aki felvette az adatokat: „Hát nem mindenki pusztult el?” „Asszonyom – mondtam –, én zsidónak születtem! Szüleim zsidók voltak, apám is, anyám is a zsidó temetőben vannak eltemetve. Én soha nem fogom megtagadni, hogy zsidó vagyok!” Őszintén meg kell mondanom, hogy a sok keserűség és sok minden után én zsidó vagyok Magyarországon, és nem magyar zsidó.

Gertrúda Milchová

Gertruda Milchová
Bratislava
Slovak Republic
Interviewer: Martin Flekenstein
Date of interview: August - September 2006

Mrs. Gertrúda Milchová lives in Bratislava, surrounded by her much-loved family. The main thing that captivated me was her storytelling talent, which I noticed during the transcription of her life's story. It's as if one weren't reading a transcript of a spoken text, but an actual book.

 

Family backround">Family backround

My father's ancestors, the Milchs, lived in what was back then named Párkány, so in Stúrovo [the town of Párkány was renamed to Stúrovo in 1948]. Grandpa Max Milch was in the lumber business. I didn't know him personally, because he died in 1910; all I know about his is from what my father [Eugen Milch] told me. He was a temperamental person who liked to live, liked to eat, and liked to have fun. He took care of his family, and was quite authoritarian. Due to the fact that they had a big house, and there was always someone coming over to visit, guests and business partners, they had a lady that took care of the children, a nanny. My father used to talk about their nanny, who was German. She was from the town of Danzig. She came to Párkány, to a Hungarian environment, and learned Hungarian, brokenly, but nevertheless. She was a Protestant, and had one condition: 'Mr. Milch, when I die, don't bury me in a Catholic cemetery!'

I can't tell you anything about Grandma Milchová. All I know is that she had a brother, the painter Berci Lipner [Lippay, Dominik Berthold (1864 - 1920): real name Lipner. He was the Pope's court painter in Rome, later a portraitist in Vienna. His works can be found in the collections of the Budapest Museum and the Vatican Gallery]. As Stúrovo lies along the Danube, he had very close ties to Ostrihom [in Hungarian Esztergom], specifically with the archbishop in Ostrihom. Well, that archbishop who was there at that time became very fond of Berci Lipner. He was constantly helping him and supporting him. Due to his influence he converted, and changed his name from Lipner to Lippay. Berci is even listed in encyclopedias as having been a portraitist. He married an Austrian woman. They had two children, and when the 'Hitleriada' 1 broke out, the children went to their aunt's in Budapest, because they needed papers. They were of course 'half-Jews,' as despite the conversion, their father remained a Jew. They managed to submit a substitute confirmation from the Church, saying that their birth records had been destroyed in a fire. I never knew his children. My grandmother definitely had more siblings, but I didn't know the rest of them.

My grandfather was married twice. His second wife was named Lina, Karolína Milchová. She married a Milch, and was herself born Milchová. She was from Kotesová, near Zilina. Her mother tongue was Hungarian and German, and they also spoke these languages at home. I knew Karolína Milchová very well, because when the anti-Jewish laws 2 came into effect in Slovakia, and she couldn't have a servant and I wasn't allowed to attend school, they sent me to her, to help her with the household. I lived with her for nine months. She lived in Melcice, near Trencín.

Karolína Milchová was a very interesting person. At the age of seventy she wasn't missing even one tooth. She had reddish hair, and was a very good cook. She had two daughters. One was Tekla, the other Margita. Tekla got married to a man in Budapest and Margita to one in Vienna. This quasi- grandma of mine loved those two girls very much, and supported them in any way she could, as her second husband was a tightwad. I witnessed one very unpleasant scene there. I felt terribly sorry for her. She had large closets full of underwear, bedsheets and dresses. The Guardists 3 came and were searching for something, and of course her husband was there. When they opened a closet, her husband saw that half the things were missing. He then proceeded to bawl her out terribly, because she'd given it all to her daughters.

Tekla was a very pretty, elegant woman. She married Mr. Schöffer, but their marriage wasn't a very happy one. She had a son, Robert, who caught tuberculosis somewhere. At that time she decided to leave her husband, and lived alone with her son. She nursed him, got infected, and also ended up with tuberculosis. Both of them died during the war, probably in 1942.

Manci, Margita that is, married Mr. Salzer from Vienna. She wasn't as pretty as Tekla, but thought that she was prettier. She had a son, who the family called Miki, but he was named Max after Grandpa. Their marriage wasn't a happy one either. Manci liked to flirt a lot, she always had some suitors and that bothered her husband a lot. I've got this impression that he committed suicide. Before the occupation of Austria, Manci and her son came to Bratislava. My father took them in, and found her work in a dairy. She worked as the dairy's manager. Miki attended school with me. My parents weren't very well off, we lived from hand to mouth, there was no money to spare, which is why my mother used to resent Manci, as my father supported her a lot. Manci decided that she wouldn't stay here, and found a job in England, and Miki went with the Jugendaliyah [young aliyah] to Palestine, where he was a kibbutznik up until the day he died. He settled in a kibbutz below the Golan Heights. In 1994, when I was in Israel for two weeks, he took us under his wing and showed us all he could. He died in 2003.

The Milchs declared themselves to be Jews, but didn't keep kosher 4, that I know for sure, because the foods that my father preferred didn't belong amongst the kosher ones. They observed the high holidays, but religion didn't play a special role there.

The Milchs had six children. The oldest was Géza. Géza died right after World War I of the Spanish Flu. The second oldest, Hugo, ended up in Vienna as a bank clerk. People used to say that his hands weren't clean, which is why he left for Australia already back during the time of Austro-Hungary. The third was Laci [Ladislav]. Laci I knew personally. He lived in Budapest. He very much liked to paint; he must have inherited some talent from Lipner. His apartment looked like a gallery. He was constantly buying paintings.

Anika [the fourth child] married Dr. Wilhelm, who was a physician. They lived in Budapest. Mr. Wilhelm was a very kind person, a good doctor. He never got upset, and was this calm, principled person. Though he didn't show it when he was upset, his work nevertheless weighed on him, and he got stomach ulcers. [Editor's note: one of the last Nobel prizes for medicine were given to two Australians who proved that stomach ulcers aren't caused by stress, but by the bacteria Helicobacter Pylori] My aunt Anika registered for a six-month dietitian's course, and began cooking him a diet, which helped him a lot. They had two boys. The older one was Ernest, and the younger was named Andor. Andor graduated from law, and became a lawyer. Ernest graduated from high school, and worked for an international shipping company, Schenker. After the war, Andor got married, and had a daughter, whom I don't know, however. He was also a party member, which is why he changed his name from Wilhelm to Villányi 5. But when the Rajk trial 6 began in Hungary, he got mixed up in it somehow, and they sentenced him to death. They executed him. Due to the influence of these experiences, Ernest found a wife who wasn't Jewish and they left for Canada. They had no children.

The youngest of my father's siblings was Edmund, Dönci. After the disintegration of the monarchy, the older siblings left for Budapest, and my father and Dönci went to Bratislava. Dönci never got married. He never had a steady job, and lived as a bachelor. He was very fond of the company of the former nobility, the Pálffys, and so on, and was always trying to get something out of them. Sometimes he succeeded and sometimes he didn't.

Dönci and my father went into the lumber business. My father was one very honest person, and Edmund was literally a con artist. For example, they had an order in central Slovakia. The workers were supposed to be paid on Saturday, so my father gave Dönci money, as he was more mobile, to arrange it. He gave him money, and on Monday morning they called him, asking where the money was. He'd gone off to Vienna and frittered the money away, just like that. Of course, in two years their company went bankrupt. My father ended up paying the debts until he died.

But that's not the end of Dönci's mischief. My mother had gotten a beautiful lace bedcover as a wedding present. Dönci came over for a visit, and was admiring it greatly. My mother was glad that he liked it. Dönci: 'Lend it to me, I'll bring it back!' Of course he didn't bring it back, but gave it to some count. For example, when we'd be walking down the street, he wouldn't recognize us. We'd greet him, like well brought-up children, and he... One more anecdote about Dönci: He used to sit around in cafés, as was the custom in Bratislava before the war. It was his 40th birthday. One guy came over to him and said to him: 'Congratulations on your publishing a book.' He said: 'What book?' 'Forty years without a job.' That was Dönci. Dönci was notorious for being a Hungarian, as he still spoke Hungarian. After the war they didn't want to recognize his citizenship. He disappeared in some mysterious fashion, and ended up in Canada.

I knew my mother's parents very well; they died in a concentration camp in 1944. They deported them. Those that returned told me that they had actually died of hunger. My grandfather's name was Emil Grün, and he was a very courageous, just, and sociable person, who loved learning, and who ruled his eleven children with an iron hand. He provided them with what he could. Three of the five boys attended university, and of the other two, one graduated from business academy, and the second apprenticed as a shop assistant in the textile industry. The girls only attended council school, and my mother had business school. Grandfather Grün tried to make sure that his children would have good jobs.

My grandfather made a living by selling grain. He had his warehouse space in the house in Trnava. The street where they lived was named Zbozná [Devout]. It was a typical village house. In the front there was a so- called clean room, then there was an office where my grandfather could smoke, because his wife didn't allow it anywhere else. There were bedrooms and a kitchen. Behind the kitchen was a closet. The house didn't have running water, it came from a pump. Out in the courtyard there was a toilet. My grandfather like making things so much, that beside the toilet he also built a toilet for the children.

My grandmother, Róza, was the so-called 'executive shadow.' She cooked, did the laundry, organized the household and took care of the children. I remember that Grandma had wire-frame glasses. She kept a kosher household. On Saturday, she'd always pull out a prayer book and read. When my sister and I would come over, she'd run across the street to the corner store, and would buy us candy that was sold by weight in a paper cone. She was very kind and extremely frugal. She deposited all the money she got into a savings account. She loved her children very much.

They didn't speak Hungarian in the Grün family, because my grandfather didn't like Hungarian. It apparently stemmed from the fact that before they moved to Trnava, they'd lived in Horná Poruba, which is close to Ilava, where Slovak was spoken. They knew Slovak to such a degree, that when my mother began attending school, Grandpa hired a teacher who tutored the children in Hungarian. My mother hated it a lot; she always talked about how they called her Ernestine, while she was named Ernika.

In Horná Poruba, my grandfather had fields rented, and had a store and house there. Horná Poruba seemed a village to him, the children were growing, and so still during the time of Austro-Hungary, he bought land in what today is Hungary. Well, and when the monarchy fell apart [in 1918], he lost them. The first few children - Hugo, Margit, Laci, [Ladislav] Minko [Herman], Erna - my mother and Mariska [Mária] were born there. The rest in Trnava.

The Grüns had eleven children. Laci and Minko were fraternal twins. Minko had dark hair and was tall, while Lajko was blond and had a shorter, stocky build. Lajo apprenticed in the textile industry. Minko studied law, and graduated with honors. My grandfather was very proud of him. After graduating, Minko got a job at a law office in Vrútky. He worked as an articled clerk. He had a very romantic nature, and fell in love with his boss's wife. She was butt-ugly, and it suited her that such a good-looking young person was after her. He was dead serious, and tried to convince her to get divorced. She laughed at him, of course. And he, instead of going home and crying about it, talking about it to his family, he went and jumped in front of a train. He committed suicide. That was sometime during 1933-1934.

Lajko [Ludvik] worked in a textile store in Trnava. He was a very good dancer, and liked music. I don't know much about him. He got married, but that was already when times were bad; I've got this impression that they deported him.

Hugo finished school, and worked as an agronomist. He studied in Budapest, because he was a soldier during the time of Austro-Hungary. He got married and worked as a farm administrator in Liptovsky Peter. He had two beautiful daughters, Juditka [Judit] and Esterka [Ester]. His wife's name was Blanka, she wasn't pretty, but was very wise. Hugo's whole family died in the Holocaust.

Margit got married in Trnava, to a man named Reich. She had two girls - Katka and Marta. A big tragedy happened there, because they deported the two girls, but their parents remained, because my uncle, Salamon Reich, was a farmer and they granted him an exception. On the advice of a Protestant priest, they had themselves christened. After the war they cancelled it and returned to the Jewish community. Salamon and Margita survived, they had friends that hid them. For days and days on end, Margita would go to the train station to wait for the girls. It was only later that she found out that they hadn't survived. It was a terrible shock for her. After the war, Uncle Reich worked as a butcher. He was still working long past retirement age. They lived in Galanta for some time, but finally bought a co-op apartment in Piestany. They died of old age. First my aunt, then my uncle.

Laci studied electrical engineering in Prague, but when he finished, that time of crisis 7 began, and he left for France. There he worked in a factory, but not as an engineer, as just a normal worker. He learned to speak French well, and saw the world. Then he returned, and got a job as an engineer in a factory in Bytca. He married Elza Weiner, the sister of the painter Weiner [Weiner-Král, Imro (1901-1978): Slovak painter of Jewish origin]. Laci and his wife were very leftist-oriented. They weren't members of any party, but were just members of the Union of Friends of the Soviet Union. Well, and when the fascist Slovak State 8 was created, they wanted to arrest his wife; at that time they had a seven or eight-year-old little girl. Vierka [Viera] was her name. My uncle said: 'You know what, why don't you take me, and let her stay with the kid!' They agreed. They jailed him in Ilava, and he went to Lublin with the first deportations. He even sent us one note [Editor's note: correspondence from the camp, on which prisoners had to write a dictated text], and also bequeathed us something. I know that he tried to escape and they shot him. Elza and Vierka held on until 1944, when they left for Bratislava, and were caught in a raid and deported. They didn't survive.

Mariska got married and moved to Sastín, and was the only one in my family to remain religious. She married Mr. Rudolf Ehrenreich. The Ehrenreich family was one very Orthodox and wealthy family. They had two children; the son was named after him, Rudko [Rudolf]. I don't remember the girl. They were in the textile, haberdashery business. They all died [in the Holocaust].

Piroshka Wollitzer's name was Priska, but everyone in the family called her Piroshka [Little Pyrogy]. Mr. Wollitzer was in the coal business. They lived in Trnava, and had a son, Ivan. All three died [in the Holocaust].

I've got to mention one thing, that in adulthood the Grün girls worked in the Trnava distillery as clerks. My mother was the first, then Piroshka worked there, and also Irena. The lady that owned it didn't have children, and they became very fond of the girls and supported them. Well, and when the youngest, Mikulas, finished business academy, Grandpa went to see them, that he's got a new candidate for them. And they said: 'We don't take men, as there's the danger that they'll learn to drink here.' So then he found a job in Bratislava.

Sárika got married to Mr. Kohn who lived in Banská Stiavnica. Mr. Kohn was a widower and already had a son. Sárika and her husband were in the uprising 9. They shot them in Kremnicka 10. Mr. Kohn's son survived, but I don't know anything about him.

Irena married Mr. Singer from Novy Ban. They didn't have children. They were shot along with the Kohns in Kremnicka.

The youngest, Mikulas, worked as a clerk in Bratislava. His first salary was 600 crowns. [Editor's note: In 1929, the Czech crown was decreed by law to be equal in value to 44.58 mg of gold.] At first he lived with us. Here he found a wife, Jenny; they got married and had a daughter, Darina. Miki and Jenny and Darina moved away to Israel in 1948. He worked there all his life as a gas station attendant. Jenny was at home. Darina was later diagnosed with schizophrenia, which can't be cured with any medicines, but can be treated. She even worked as a government clerk. When Miki died in 1979, contact with Jenny and Darina cooled off completely, because we didn't like that Jenny. She wasn't a good wife for him.

My father, Eugen Milch, was born in 1892 in Stúrovo. He attended the local parochial school. He didn't talk about his school days much, the only thing he told us was that they had a 'különóra,' meaning a separate class. They had to dig for potatoes for the convent. My father fell ill with whooping cough. He got over it, but back then they didn't know that it could also have further consequences. It damaged some glands, and he stopped digesting fats. He grew terribly fat, even though up until then, he'd been a skinny, bespectacled boy. When he got married, he weighed 110 kilos. He was even on one radical diet, because on average he had 130 kilos. Because they'd lived in Párkanyi, he was of course used to the water. He was a good swimmer, went fishing, boating. He did this with us, too. When we were little, we used to go to the Danube, to the Morava. My father wasn't in the army, he had an exception due to this illness.

My mother, Erna Lustigová, was born in 1899. She finished business school. My parents' marriage was arranged by a shadkhan. The wedding took place in Bratislava. My parents lived together up until 1939, when my father died. He'd been very ill for about four years, as his heart couldn't handle his weight. A doctor used to come visit and give him injections, diuretics, but it didn't help. He was 49 when he died. He was young.

My father was in the lumber business, he was the main supplier of wood from the Bán region to Hungary. Besides supporting the family, he also had to pay debts left by that miserable Dönci. My mother took care of the accounting and corresponding for him, because she had business school. She of course cooked, did the laundry and took care of the household. We also had a household helper.

Growing up">Growing up

In Bratislava we lived at No.12 Moskovská Street, across from a pub. When my parents were getting married, there was a terrible housing shortage in Bratislava, and you had to pay 'key money.' We lived on the outskirts. They had to pay the former owners for the apartment. And their condition was that they had to buy the furniture, too. For years we lived with ugly old- fashioned carved German furniture. Gradually it was modernized. Those were apartments without bathrooms. There were forty apartments, and only two bathrooms. The landlady decided when each family could take a bath. One thing was good there though, that both rooms had big built-in stoves, that heated excellently. The apartment also had a small kitchen. It had both electricity and running water. In the kitchen there was a tile stove.

In our family, my mother did the shopping. Close to Moskovská Street, on the corner, there was a dairy where they sold bread, rolls, cottage cheese and cheese. Back then you still had an account and paid at the end of the month. We used to go there with a liter milk can, and a roll used to cost 25 halers [1 Czechoslovak crown = 100 halers]. In today's Postová Street, Mr. Klicha had a butcher shop, and that's where we bought meat. We didn't keep kosher, we bought bacon, Hungarian salami and similar delicacies. We bought fruit and vegetables at the market. I don't even know anymore where in Bratislava the market was, but I remember my mother dragging those bags around all right.

My mother was an excellent person. Naturally wise, she was interested in everything. She used to order books and read a lot. We had a lot of books at home, which is also something I inherited from her. The books were mainly in Hungarian and German. Back then salesmen used to come around offering books. When she saw that they were translations from American and Russian literature, she'd buy them. She devoted herself to that a lot. She loved theater, she even had a season ticket, because she attended the theater often. A German theater company from Vienna used to come here. She didn't miss a single performance.

She attended the theater alone, because her husband had no interest in it. In the beginning she would invite him, but then she gave up on it. The theater was a source of disagreements between them, because our custom at home was that supper was at 7pm, and theater performances also started at seven. So when my mother went to the theater, we had to eat supper earlier, and my father didn't like that. My mother also had literary proclivities, and even wrote one play. It took place in Trnava. The main figure was a person who was in a mental home, but wasn't crazy. I read it, but I don't remember it much anymore. It was quite interesting. She was very proud of that play. She wanted to give it to someone for evaluation. She told her husband, and my father made a scene, that his wife won't be writing any plays, and he won't permit any theater, so he forbade it. That was a big disappointment for her.

My father was one absolutely apolitical person. My mother was more inclined to social democracy, but wasn't an active member. We knew many people, but had closer relations with only two families. The first family was the Richters, Christians. Their son was my sister's age. They also lived on Moskovská Street. The second were Jews, the Deutsch family. I went to school with their son. My father loved playing cards, and Mrs. Deutschová was also a big card player. So this little group formed. My mother didn't play, she wasn't too interested in that. We used to go on outings to Koliba [a recreational area near Bratislava], and in the summer we used to go swimming. My mother also had a cousin in Bratislava, Mrs. Irena Porges. She lived on today's Podjavorinská Street, so my mother used to go over to her place often.

The anti-Jewish laws didn't influence our relations with the Richters in any way, because we'd already stopped seeing them before that. I've got this impression that it was because my father accused Mr. Richter of paying too much attention to my mother. My mother was one absolutely integral [integer: in German morally pure, i.e. a person of integrity] person, and it didn't even occur to her. So with the Richters it fell apart even before. We kept seeing the Deutsches until they transferred Mr. Deutsch to Palúcky, near Liptovsky Mikulás. He was a chemist, an engineer, so they sent him there to this one factory. We kept in touch with them all our lives, as they survived the war. Their son died, because he'd been deported. Mr. Deutsch died, he had stomach ulcers, and Mrs. Deutschová lived in Liptovsky Mikulás. My mother used to visit her.

I was born in 1923, in Bratislava. I didn't attend nursery school, we had a nanny. She was the daughter of a police official. She was always scaring us with ghosts and relished taking us for walks to the Ondrej Cemetery. Despite this, I don't have any bad memories of her. She was named Mrs. Ivka Sarsúnová. My sister did attend nursery school for some time, but not I.

My sister and I attended a Neolog 11 school on Zochová Street. There they taught in German. Mrs. Hoffmanová was my favorite teacher. She taught everything. And then Mrs. Vermosová, she taught handiwork. I loved that, because she used to read us girls' books while did our work. After public school I wrote entrance exams for a German state high school, which I attended for four years. I didn't manage to graduate, because those Hitlerjugend 12 girls were constantly harassing me, so then I transferred to a Slovak high school. I finished septima [seventh of eight years of high school, the equivalent of Grade 11], and then, well, the Slovak State arrived, and that meant going to school was forbidden.

The girls at school were very aggressive, they razzed us and yelled 'Sara' [derogatory term for Jews] at us and so on. The boys were more restrained. Some little bit of courtesy still remained in them. The worst was that the Hitlerjugend girls were pushing around professors, Jews. They drove away the German professor, Fluss, who was an excellent teacher, even though the school principal was Czech. He was powerless. Of course, the German teachers didn't make things easier for us either. The worst was Pinkl. He wrote horrible poems, which we were required to buy. Well, and during those unsettled times when his book was published, he'd already started 'Jewing.' There were large differences, because old Schiff was a liberal German, and condemned it sharply.

I was very glad when my sister Erika was born, and then when she was growing up. From the time she was little, she was terribly charming. One some people came over for a visit, and she was still using a potty, and had to go pee. So she took the potty and brought it over to the visitors, too, and offered: 'Don't you want to?' She wore glasses because she had astigmatism. She was the family pet, but Mrs. Deutsch saw through it, and once told my mother: 'Listen, you've got two kids after all, so pay attention to the other one, too, not just the little one!' I didn't hold it against my sister, we got along well until the day she died, though after the war she lived in Hungary. She had very good qualities. She was intelligent, witty, and looked good. She was an extremely charming person.

At home we spoke Hungarian, because until his dying day my father could never speak Slovak properly. My mother could, but in an Upper Ilava dialect. Miki introduced Slovak at our place, when he lived with us. Everywhere in my old report cards from before the war, my surname was written without the 'ová.' It wasn't until I transferred to the Slovak school, that there the absolute process of Slovakification began. As I've already mentioned, because of my father we spoke Hungarian at home, I attended a German school, and it wasn't until later that I had to learn Slovak.

I always had a best friend of some sort. One of them was Edit Bauer, who's still alive, and lives in America. The Bauers were very wealthy, bechovet Jews. Mr. Bauer was a lawyer. Once they invited me over for seder. That was a great experience, because Dr. Bauer's uncle was very religious. The old man lead it, it was all according to custom. They drank and sang. It left a fantastic impression on me, because at home we observed holidays according to food. We made matzah dumplings, drank matzah coffee. We made chroises with apples. [Editor's note: charoset: in Bratislava jargon chroises. Grated apples with red wine, cinnamon and raisins. Charoset is part of the ritual seder meal.] I don't have any recipes of my mother's, except for nut cake, but that doesn't have anything to do with the holidays. My daughter also adopted the recipe, and when it's someone's birthday, he gets a cake. To make it you need: 8 eggs, 350 g of icing sugar, 3 tablespoons of cocoa, 150 g of ground nuts, 1 lemon, 150 g of butter or margarine, and a bit of strong black coffee. Cake: mix 6 egg yolks, 200 g of icing sugar, 2 tablespoons of cocoa, a bit of strong black coffee and juice of the entire lemon. Add 150 g of ground nuts and thick whipped egg whites from 6 eggs. Put the mixture into a greased and floured cake tin, and bake at medium heat. Icing: in a water bath mix 2 whole eggs, 150 g of icing sugar, and a tablespoon of cocoa. After it cools, add 150 g of butter or margarine and cover the cake in the icing.

My father insisted on us being home by 7pm, which is why my friendships were quite limited. After lunch we did homework, and then we could go out. Sometimes we played in front of the house. Friendships took place on Sunday, when there wasn't school, because on Saturday we had to go to Jewish school at the synagogue. We weren't used to promenading, because Moskovská Street was relatively far from the promenade. Rarely we'd go to a restaurant, more often to a confectionery for a good grade in school. I remember the Lido [a swimming pool in Bratislava, on the bank of the Danube], we'd go swimming in the Danube, and once we had lunch there. They served beef soup, and in it they put chopped parsley, and that bothered me so much that it disgusted me, because we didn't use parsley at home.

Summer holidays meant tough times for Mom, because she had to distribute us. Two weeks at our grandparents', two weeks with Aunt Margita, later even with Laco. Our parents never visited spas or took holidays. Most of all I liked going to Trnava, because there were girls our age there, and my aunt was an excellent cook, and I like to eat, even to this day. My uncle very much liked going to cattle markets, and would buy cattle. He used to go all over western Slovakia. He used to buy it for the farm, but also for a slaughterhouse. He used to also go to Nitra, where there was this one confectioner, who used to make special mini-bites, and he'd bring them back for us. We liked going there, because we had fun there. We used to go to the sugar refinery to swim, there where they washed the beets. They'd fill it with water, and we could swim there. My grandparents were too old for us, so we preferred going to our uncle's.

The first time I was in a car was when I was four. My father took me to Budapest. Because he was so fat, he liked taking taxis. We got off the train at the western station, and he ordered a taxi. We got in, and when he sat down, I popped up... The second time was with Grandma Lina, when we went to Trencianské Teplice, but by then I was already a student.

During the war">During the war

As a student I joined the Hashomer Hatzair 13, but just out of curiosity, I didn't believe in anything. It was curiosity. They talked about all sorts of things to do with Palestine, about Jews and problems of Jewishness. Well, and of course the external pressure brought a person closer to people who thought the same. I was on a brigade just once, a winter one, in a moshav 14 in Radvan. Then later I was already doing hakhsharah 15 by Hlohovec. There was one exemplary farmer there, Mr. Fussmann, who took on 25 to 30 Jewish boys. In the beginning there were only two of us girls, but then others arrived, who'd escaped from Poland. We cooked, cleaned and did the laundry. I learned to bake bread there, too. That was already during the Slovak State. The girls from Poland didn't tell us anything, because in the first place, there was a language barrier. That wouldn't have been such a big problem, more likely they didn't want to talk.

The effect of the Jewish laws was that I couldn't go to school. Secondly, my Grandma Lina in Melcice couldn't have a servant, so they sent me there to help her. We had to move out of our apartment, because policemen from the part of the republic that had fallen under Hungary came to live there. We got a substitute apartment, of course considerably worse than the one we'd had. During that time I was partly living at the hakhsharah with Mr. Fussmann by Hlohovec. It was called Panónia. There were boys working in various areas there. They had vineyards, grain, poppies and also cattle. We girls took care of the household. After the dissolution of the hakhsharah, I was in Melcice. People from Hashomer Hatzair alerted me that deportations 16 were going to take place, for me to escape. So I escaped to Hungary, and there my family took me in, my father's brother Laci and my father's sisters Anika and Tekla.

I got to Budapest with my mother's help. My mother found a driver who was willing to drive me across the border between Slovakia and Hungary. At that time it cost only a thousand crowns. [Editor's note: The value of one Slovak crown during the Slovak State (1939 - 1945) was equal to 31.21 mg of gold. The exchange rate between the German mark and the Slovak crown was artificially set at a ration of 1:11.] Later it cost horrendous sums. Because I spoke Hungarian, one Jewish family on the other side of the border took me in, and the next day they put me on a train. That's how I got to Budapest, and I was there until 1944.

In Hungary, the period from 1942 to 1944 was relatively mild from the standpoint of persecution of Jews. I had one piece of paper on which I lived. It was a police registration. At that time they didn't want to see any papers at the police. I arrived there, filled out a form, and instead of resident of Bratislava I put Stúrovo. [Editor's note: Bratislava and Stúrovo (in Hungarian Párkány) belonged to the First Czechoslovak Republic. After the First Vienna Decision 17, Stúrovo fell to Hungary.] They stamped it for me, and I lived on this document.

At first I lived with Aunt Tekla, but when in June my mother and sister arrived, we found ourselves a small bachelor apartment. We were registered there, but we didn't have food coupons, and so every three months that had to be arranged. My sister was an apprentice with a tailor, and my mother took care of a baby for a lady whose husband was in the army. I also babysat for one family. We had some income, but lived frugally. In 1943 we were caught in a raid, and they jailed all three of us as foreign citizens. We were sent to the Ricse internment camp. It was this camp that had a separate men's and women's part. Well, and then in 1944, when the Germans arrived in Hungary 18, they divided us up, because Ricse was shut down. The women were put in the Nagykanizsa jail, and from there they deported us to Auschwitz-Birkenau 19.

I mentioned that the Hungarian conditions were less severe. It was possible to get a reprieve from Ricse, and because my sister was a minor, they permitted her to continue her apprenticeship. Uncle Laci vouched for her. Just my mother and I remained. My sister was in Budapest. On 2nd May 1944, we arrived on the second Hungarian transport in Birkenau.

I'd estimate there were about a thousand people in the transport. Selection, of course. At that time I was 21, and my mother was healthy and strong. We ended up on the side of life. The whole surroundings, how men in striped clothing arrived, and guards with dogs, filled you with dread. One woman we knew, who already at that time had white hair, went into the gas, but that we found out only later, what was going on there. We felt very sad for her. When we came inside, we took off our clothes and showered. They cut our hair off, gave us horrible rags, men's underwear or something, and army jackets with red paint and a cross on the back. My mother and I looked at each other. We looked like guys. We began to laugh. Tattooing was next. We realized that among the officials that were doing it, were also women from Trnava. They immediately recognized my mother, and took us under their wing. We spent four weeks in quarantine. After the four weeks, we got into one of the better commandos, into 'Canada' 20 There they sorted the clothes of people that had been brought in.

Gradually we found out what as actually going on there. Before that we hadn't known, or rather we hadn't wanted to know, what that Auschwitz really meant. Uncle Laci, who had supported us in Budapest, he regularly listened to English radio, and there they talked about those death camps. At the time it didn't sink in, it only sank in when we found out that our friend had died. So for a while we were in that 'Canada,' but we were very lucky, because they were organizing a commando that was going to Rajsko. There was one institute there, which was researching substituting rubber with specially bred dandelions. At first, the commando left Auschwitz- Birkenau for Rajsko every morning, and came back. Then came fall, and they put some of us up directly in Rajsko. Compared to Birkenau, it was completely different, better. Everyone had his own bed there, and you could shower every day. There was one female SS officer there, a former teacher, who had a principle that everyone had to get what the state decreed, and so you couldn't even steal in the kitchen. The portions were limited, but we got them. We were there until the evacuation of Auschwitz-Birkenau, and then they forced us out on a death march 21.

At night we marched, and during the day they herded us into these large shelters, they were probably some sort of open hay stores. When the evacuation started, we had only some light shoes that we'd found in those piles in 'Canada.' My mother was a very practical woman, she cut apart a sheet and we wrapped our feet in the strips of cloth. That saved our feet from getting frostbitten. When we had the daily rest, we laid down on the rags, and dried them with our own bodies. Then we'd wrap them around our feet again. Those women that had high boots, or other shoes, got frostbitten feet. We arrived at Ravensbrück 22. That was another calamity.

We arrived at Ravensbrück in February, and it was still freezing. Due to the fact that the camp's capacity had long been exhausted, they built something like a circus tent in the courtyard. They put beds in it, and herded us in. The way they gave out food was that they'd herd us outside, and as we went back in one by one, they gave us our share. It was very dangerous, because a person could lose his place on a bed. My mother stayed inside, I got one portion, a miserable one too, and that's what we lived on. The hunger there was severe. The biggest calamity wasn't that we didn't have anything to eat, but that the thaw began. It warmed up, and the whole base on which the tent stood began sinking. When something fell from the bed, what little you had, a comb or spoon, it was lost. The Ravensbrück command didn't know how to deal with the masses of people that were there. They divided them up into external camps, which however weren't concentration camps, but work camps. That's how we ended up in Malchow 23. There the hunger was absolute. They still needed laborers for work in the forest, and so I applied, hoping that we'd get some sort of soup. But again, that same water with three little carrots like normal. Of course it was dirty there, and you couldn't wash. That was at the end of March or in April, and you could already feel the German Reich decomposing.

Then, they wanted to take us from Malchow to Terezin 24, but they didn't manage it, because the front was already there. By then we weren't accompanied by the SS, but by soldiers. We arrived in an area that some of them were from. Well, and then they saw that there was nothing anywhere, no food or anything; from hunger we were opening potato cellars and eating raw potatoes, and that kept us going. They said: 'You know what, do what you want!' And left us there. It wasn't anything dramatic. Suddenly we were free. Dirty, hungry, and wanting to live. You've got to know, that that year the spring was beautiful. The sun was shining, by the roads there were fruit trees blooming. That buoyed a person.

We met two former prisoners of war, Canadians, and they told us that in such and such a direction there was a town, and in the school there were Poles, and that maybe they'd take us in there. We found lodging there, I think it was the town of Neichen. There were seven of us. My mother, I, then Manci from Martin, two Austrian women, both named Liesl, plus Malka from Bratislava. Those Poles weren't from a concentration camp, but had been working in Germany. They gave us this corner, and that's where we lived. It was under the American Army, close to the Elbe, so we also saw that change, when the Americans left and the Russians arrived. We walked around the village, asking for flour and eggs. Those people were neither good nor bad, they didn't hurt us in any way, but gave us something. We didn't want to end up in the large collection centers, but made our own way.

My sister had a different fate from us, because she was in Budapest. She then returned to Slovakia illegally. She lived under an Aryan identity, but in the end they caught her and deported her to Terezin. In Terezin she took care of children. That meeting was quite dramatic, because we left Neichen slowly. The Russians took us part of the way, they allowed us to sit on a car and took us a ways. We walked a ways. We ended up in a place from where they were transporting concentration camp inmates to Prague, and so we arrived in Prague. I think so, I've got a gap there. In some fashion we found ourselves at the station in Brno, but from where, whether we'd come from Prague, that I don't remember anymore. We were still looking for a way to get to Bratislava. In Brno they told us: 'Wait, a train from Terezin is supposed to arrive, it's going to Budapest, so it has to go through Bratislava!' We waited there. The train arrived, it was only these cattle wagons. Suddenly the doors flew open, and someone was shouting: 'Mom, mom!' My sister was on that train. Then she remained with us, and that's how we got home.

Post-war">Post-war

We arrived in Bratislava. It was very odd. I went to our old apartment. I rang, and said that I used to live there. The first thing was: 'We won't leave here!' I ran into some shomers [shomer: member of the Hashomer Hatzair movement], who had survived, and they told me that my aunt [Margita Reichová] was alive, in Trnava.

Margita, Mrs. Reichová, was my mother's oldest sister. They were living normally in their apartment, because for months someone had been hiding them. So we went to Trnava, and they took us in. One tried to find out who'd survived and how they'd survived. Right away I got in touch with some shomers. One evening I was telling them about my experiences from the concentration camp, and that lifted a burden off me. Then life began. I had to gain weight, because I was skinny. In the beginning we kept together, but then when the aliyah [emigration of Jews to Palestine] was being organized, they were trying to convince me to go with them. I didn't go, for one because of my mother, and for another because of school. They then renounced me; I was a renegade shomer.

My mother found an accounting job in Trnava. My sister didn't know how to fit in with the new conditions, and wanted to return to Budapest. She returned, too, and married there. My brother-in-law is also Jewish. His family had a different name at one time, but his father was already named Barabás, they Hungarianized 25 their name. My brother-in-law had been doing 'mukaszolgálat' [Hungarian for forced labor]. I don't know anything about the other members of his family. I know that his brother Tibor suvived, and two sisters, Alica and Berta. Their family wasn't overly decimated.

My brother-in-law was into textiles. He was a Communist and in the end became the manager of a department store. My sister worked in foreign trade, and after work studied at university, because they wanted her to have qualifications. Whenever it was exam time, Mother would go help with the household. My sister graduated from economics, foreign trade. She had three children, two sons and a daughter. The oldest died in a car accident at the age of 22. The other two children are alive, I'm still in touch with them, they come here regularly. My brother-in-law died, he had diabetes.

In the beginning we visited each other only rarely, because we didn't get permission. When the oldest son was born, my mother only with great difficulty went to see her grandson, but then, when it was simpler, I was there once a year, and she would come, too. We kept in regular touch until she died. She died in 2002. My sister's family didn't observe anything, in fact she was even cremated. They didn't light candles. They didn't fast during Yom Kippur.

The first thing I had to do upon my return was graduate from high school. I couldn't finish my last year anymore. They were organizing courses in Bratislava. I used to commute from Trnava. First I graduated, and then I wanted to study. But what? I had friends that had gone to study languages, but one of the shomers wanted to study chemistry at an engineering school. So I went with him and took engineering, specializing in paper and cellulose. For 27 years I worked at a paper and cellulose research institute. From there I retired.

The Slansky trials 26 deeply shook my faith in Communism, but the final consequences didn't come until Stalin's death. Shomers were leftists, and Communism addressed not only the problems of Jews, but of nationality as such. The trials shook it terribly. Everything fell apart, and everything became a lie. It was very hard, but for the time being it didn't evoke opposition in me, for me to do something against it. That didn't come until later. It's hard to describe, because one doesn't like to recall it.

I'd summarize my free time as follows. In the first place, it was work, which interested me, and I also liked going to the theater. Then I met with the father of my daughter, and we spent that free time together. When I became pregnant, he didn't want to know anything about it, we didn't even get married. After she was born, I was fully employed raising her. I was on maternity leave, at that time I was living with Mom. In the meantime, my mother had married a second time, so I was there. She married a man in Tomásov, which is here by Bratislava, now it's almost like Bratislava. So I spent my maternity leave there. Well, and when I went on business trips, my daughter was at Mom's. My mother helped me very, very much. She was shocked by the fact that I hadn't married, and that the child was born out of wedlock, but despite that she loved her and supported me with all her might.

My mother's new husband, Mr. Lustig, was very devout, and when he married my mother, he had a condition that she had to keep a kosher household. She also kept it, and used to go to Bratislava to a schachter [ritual butcher], because they had poultry at home. It was an arranged marriage, my mother wanted to be independent. She married in 1948 or 1949. She was very decent about it, and asked me and my sister. We of course told her that if she thought it was the right thing, we wouldn't stand in her way, that we could only support her.

Mr. Lustig had two daughters, both of them survived the concentration camp. The younger one got married first, to a man named Horák. At first they lived in Samorín, and later came here to Bratislava. We see each other to this day. Margita worked at the Central Union of Jewish Religious Communities. The older one married a man from [Liptovsky] Mikulás. Both daughters, especially the one from Mikulás, observed Jewish traditions after the war. But they didn't have a kosher household anymore. After the war, I stopped believing, when I went through that concentration camp hell. I don't even observe Yom Kippur, nothing.

My daughter and I used to go on vacations regularly. We were at Kremnicka Skalka, Demänovska Dolina. We used to go on outings with a colleague of mine from work; she had two children of the same age. And we used to see each other with my stepsister, because she's got a daughter and a son. Her daughter is the same age as mine. My circle of friends wasn't very large, more on the small side.

At the age of eleven, my daughter announced that she wanted to study languages, and kept to it, and now she's a translator. She studied French and Russian, but also translates from Hungarian, because she speaks Hungarian very well. When the kids from Budapest come to visit, she has to translate, because neither my son-in-law nor my grandchildren know Hungarian.

My daughter liked going to the V-Club, and my son-in-law was also active in it. [Editor's note: The V-Club belongs to the National Enlightenment Center, which is a national cultural institution. Besides culture, it is also active in areas of edification, information, science and education.] Before him she was in love with some Dusan, who I couldn't stand. He kept turning her against me. When I told her don't come late, or don't do that, he kept saying: 'Again she wants something!' She was popular, and attended the V-Club, where my son-in-law took a liking to her, and began persuading her: 'What are you going out with that Dusan for. Look at me, I'm more attractive!' Well, in the end they fell in love, and got married.

They had their wedding in Tomasíkovo, at the National Committee. It was in the summer. My daughter had only this summer dress and flowers, and my son- in-law had a wool suit and a turtleneck. How he sweated in that heat. It was his parents' mistake that they'd dressed him up like that. His father was intensely moved by the whole experience. A girlfriend of mine, who's no longer alive, showed up with a couple of shopping bags, because she wanted to see my daughter get married. There was no banquet, they went for dinner. Two witnesses, a girlfriend of my daughter's and my son-in-law's friend.

After the wedding came the problem of where they'd live. His parents lived in a four-room apartment, but it was such an unfortunate apartment that all the rooms interconnected. No one could have any privacy. I had a two-room apartment, but laid out so that one room was separate off the hallway, and the second room was also separate, so I told them to come here. Six years we lived together. On the whole we've got good memories. Then my daughter finished school, got a job, and her work assigned her a co-op apartment. After a month or so, when they'd already settled in, and had come for a visit, my granddaughter opened the door to the room where they'd lived, which had twelve square meters, and said: 'All of us lived here!?'

My granddaughter is named Alexandra Kissová, and my grandson is named Peter Piovarcsy. Sashka was born in 1975, and Peter was born in 1979. Sasha graduated from theater school, she's a makeup artist by trade. She didn't study any further. Peter graduated from an electro-technical vocational school, and then studied economics, and got a bachelor's degree, he didn't study any further [In Slovakia and other Central European countries, a bachelor's degree is only three years, and most university students do a five-year Master's degree].

We see each other regularly, because we live in the same building. My daughter moved to Petrzalka [a part of Bratislava] and I stayed here. But after some time, a great deal of tension developed between my granddaughter and my son-in-law, so my granddaughter moved in with me. She got married and had a daughter, which all happened at my place. The building where we live at one time belonged to the National Committee. There was a nursery school, the police, and something else here. When my grandson went into business, he liked the building, and bought it from the National Committee for his company, and made it into this family building. Now we all live here together, four generations. I, the senior, am on the ground floor, then my granddaughter with her family, then my daughter with my son-in-law, and finally my grandson. That's my salvation, because otherwise I'd be here all alone, like a tree in the desert, if I didn't have my family here.

In 1969 I was in the West on an internship in France. I was there for three months. Truth be told, nothing there really stunned me, because in Bratislava we used to get Viennese TV, and we had some sort of an idea of what life in the West was like. I was in Grenoble [town in southeastern France]. I worked there in a research institute, and you know what stunned me the most, it's almost funny, that every day cleaning ladies with rubber gloves would come, sprayed something from some tube onto some glass doors, and it was clean. That stunned me. Otherwise nothing. For one, there was a terrible caste system there, and the various social strata didn't associate with each others. I was used to normal relationships, whether someone was a director or cleaning lady, they were all people. There it was precise, castes. The shop windows and the hubbub that was there also made a big impression there. They were very kind to me, I was satisfied, but I was already feeling home tugging at me. They also tried to convince me, whether I didn't want to stay.

I was also in Israel. That's not Europe. There life is more fast-paced, varied, but more difficult. Here we lived in peace, and there... We put together some sort of program, it was decided, but right away it was all changed and we did it differently. It's not anything for me, nothing draws me there. Neither did I ever even regret not going with them on the aliyah after the war. It never occurred to me.

After 1989 27 no changes in my life took place. I was already retired. I looked forward to the fact that my grandchildren and my family would have a better and freer life, and that I'd be able to travel. For me, going from Bratislava to Vienna was 'far.' It was insurmountable, and today, when my granddaughter wants to go buy some shoes, she goes to Vienna.

I always try to fill my spare time with something. In the first place, I'm interested in our family. I play a bit with my great-granddaughter, I take care of my household. I have to go shopping, I have to cook myself something, I have to clean, and that takes time. I solve crossword puzzles intensively, I work on the computer; I've got solitaire on it. There's always something - sew this on, patch this, and so on. I've also got some friends that I see, they come visit me. I'm not bored, I'm never bored. I watch TV, and more and more often I 'curse' at it, because what's on is worse and worse.

Glossary">Glossary

1 Anschluss

The German term "Anschluss" (literally: connection) refers to the inclusion of Austria in a "Greater Germany" in 1938. In February 1938, Austrian Chancellor Schuschnigg had been invited to visit Hitler at his mountain retreat at Berchtesgaden. A two-hour tirade against Schuschnigg and his government followed, ending with an ultimatum, which Schuschnigg signed. On his return to Vienna, Schuschnigg proved both courageous and foolhardy. He decided to reaffirm Austria's independence, and scheduled a plebiscite for Sunday, 13th March, to determine whether Austrians wanted a "free, independent, social, Christian and united Austria." Hitler' protégé, Seyss-Inquart, presented Schuschnigg with another ultimatum: Postpone the plebiscite or face a German invasion. On 11th March Schuschnigg gave in and canceled the plebiscite. On 12th March 1938 Hitler announced the annexation of Austria. When German troops crossed into Austria, they were welcomed with flowers and Nazi flags. Hitler arrived later that day to a rapturous reception in his hometown of Linz. Less well disposed Austrians soon learned what the "Anschluss" held in store for them. Known Socialists and Communists were stripped to the waist and flogged. Jews were forced to scrub streets and public latrines. Schuschnigg ended up in a concentration camp and was only freed in 1945 by American troops.

2 Jewish Codex

Order no. 198 of the Slovakian government, issued in September 1941, on the legal status of the Jews, went down in history as Jewish Codex. Based on the Nuremberg Laws, it was one of the most stringent and inhuman anti-Jewish laws all over Europe. It paraphrased the Jewish issue on a racial basis, religious considerations were fading into the background; categories of Jew, Half Jew, moreover 'Mixture' were specified by it. The majority of the 270 paragraphs dealt with the transfer of Jewish property (so-called Aryanizing; replacing Jews by non-Jews) and the exclusion of Jews from economic, political and public life.

3 Hlinka-Guards

Military group under the leadership of the radical wing of the Slovakian Popular Party. The radicals claimed an independent Slovakia and a fascist political and public life. The Hlinka-Guards deported brutally, and without German help, 58,000 (according to other sources 68,000) Slovak Jews between March and October 1942.

4 Kashrut in eating habits

Kashrut means ritual behavior. A term indicating the religious validity of some object or article according to Jewish law, mainly in the case of foodstuffs. Biblical law dictates which living creatures are allowed to be eaten. The use of blood is strictly forbidden. The method of slaughter is prescribed, the so-called shechitah. The main rule of kashrut is the prohibition of eating dairy and meat products at the same time, even when they weren't cooked together. The time interval between eating foods differs. On the territory of Slovakia six hours must pass between the eating of a meat and dairy product. In the opposite case, when a dairy product is eaten first and then a meat product, the time interval is different. In some Jewish communities it is sufficient to wash out one's mouth with water. The longest time interval was three hours - for example in Orthodox communities in Southwestern Slovakia.

5 Villányi, András (1913 - 1950)

police officer. In 1936 finished law studies, then was a law candidate. In 1944 was put in a labor camp, from where he escaped to the Soviet front. From 1944 was a police clerk. From the beginning of 1945 he was a police counselor, in April he joined the Hungarian Communist Party. In 1947 he passed law and judicial exams. That same year he organized and subsequently also headed the economic police. From 1948 he worked at the Ministry of Finance as a section head. During the Rajk trial on 13th September 1949, he was arrested on the basis of construed charges, sentenced to death and executed. He was rehabilitated in 1956.

6 Rajk trial

Laszlo Rajk, Hungarian communist politician, Minister of the Interior (1946-48) and Foreign Minister (1948-49), was arrested on false charges in 1949 in the purges initiated by Stalin's anti-Tito campaign. He was accused of crime against the state and treason (of having been a secret agent in the 1930s), sentenced to death and executed. His show trial was given much publicity throughout the Soviet block. In March 1956 he was officially rehabilitated.

7 Great depression

At the end of October 1929, there were worrying signs on the New York Stock Exchange in the securities market. On 24th October ('Black Thursday'), people began selling off stocks in a panic from the price drops of the previous days - the number of shares usually sold in a half year exchanged hands in one hour. The banks could not supply the amount of liquid assets required, so people didn't receive money from their sales. Five days later, on 'Black Tuesday', 16.4 million shares were put up for sale, prices dropped steeply, and the hoarded properties suddenly became worthless. The collapse of the Stock Exchange was followed by economic crisis. Banks called in their outstanding loans, causing immediate closings of factories and businesses, leading to higher unemployment, and a decline in the standard of living. By January of 1930, the American money market got back on it's feet, but during this year newer bank crises unfolded: in one month, 325 banks went under. Toward the end of 1930, the crisis spread to Europe: in May of 1931, the Viennese Creditanstalt collapsed (and with it's recall of outstanding loans, took Austrian heavy industry with it). In July, a bank crisis erupted in Germany, by September in England, as well. In Germany, in 1931, more than 19,000 firms closed down. Though in France the banking system withstood the confusion, industrial production and volume of exports tapered off seriously. The agricultural countries of Central Europe were primarily shaken up by the decrease of export revenues, which was followed by a serious agricultural crisis. Romanian export revenues dropped by 73 percent, Poland's by 56 percent. In 1933 in Hungary, debts in the agricultural sphere reached 2.2 billion Pengoes. Compared to the industrial production of 1929, it fell 76 percent in 1932 and 88 percent in 1933. Agricultural unemployment levels, already causing serious concerns, swelled immensely to levels, estimated at the time to be in the hundreds of thousands. In industry the scale of unemployment was 30 percent (about 250,000 people).

8 Slovak State (1939-1945)

Czechoslovakia, which was created after the disintegration of Austria-Hungary, lasted until it was broken up by the Munich Pact of 1938; Slovakia became a separate (autonomous) republic on 6th October 1938 with Jozef Tiso as Slovak PM. Becoming suspicious of the Slovakian moves to gain independence, the Prague government applied martial law and deposed Tiso at the beginning of March 1939, replacing him with Karol Sidor. Slovakian personalities appealed to Hitler, who used this appeal as a pretext for making Bohemia, Moravia and Silesia a German protectorate. On 14th March 1939 the Slovak Diet declared the independence of Slovakia, which in fact was a nominal one, tightly controlled by Nazi Germany.

9 Slovak Uprising

At Christmas 1943 the Slovak National Council was formed, consisting of various oppositional groups (communists, social democrats, agrarians etc.). Their aim was to fight the Slovak fascist state. The uprising broke out in Banska Bystrica, central Slovakia, on 20th August 1944. On 18th October the Germans launched an offensive. A large part of the regular Slovak army joined the uprising and the Soviet Army also joined in. Nevertheless the Germans put down the riot and occupied Banska Bystrica on 27th October, but weren't able to stop the partisan activities. As the Soviet army was drawing closer many of the Slovak partisans joined them in Eastern Slovakia under either Soviet or Slovak command.

10 Kremnicka

From 5th November 1944 to 5th March 1945, German fascists and their Slovak henchmen brutally murdered 747 people in Kremnicka: 478 men, 211 women and 58 children. It is the largest mass grave from the time of World War II in Slovakia. Among the executed were members of 15 nations, of this more than 400 Jews (372 identified). The victims were captured rebel soldiers, partisans, illegal workers, part of the members of the American and British military mission, and primarily racially persecuted citizens.

11 Neolog Jewry

Following a Congress in 1868/69 in Budapest, where the Jewish community was supposed to discuss several issues on which the opinion of the traditionalists and the modernizers differed and which aimed at uniting Hungarian Jews, Hungarian Jewry was officially split into two (later three) communities, which all built up their own national community network. The Neologs were the modernizers, who opposed the Orthodox on various questions. The third group, the sop-called Status Quo Ante advocated that the Jewish community was maintained the same as before the 1868/69 Congress.

12 Hitlerjugend

The youth organization of the German Nazi Party (NSDAP). In 1936 all other German youth organizations were abolished and the Hitlerjugend was the only legal state youth organization. At the end of 1938 the SS took charge of the organization. From 1939 all young Germans between 10 and 18 were obliged to join the Hitlerjugend, which organized after-school activities and political education. Boys over 14 were also given pre-military training and girls over 14 were trained for motherhood and domestic duties. In 1939 it had 7 million members. During World War II members of the Hitlerjugend served in auxiliary forces. At the end of 1944 17-year-olds from the Hitlerjugend were drafted to form the 12th Panzer Division 'Hitlerjugend' and sent to the western front.

13 Hashomer Hatzair in Slovakia

The Hashomer Hatzair movement came into being in Slovakia after WWI. It was Jewish youths from Poland, who on their way to Palestine crossed through Slovakia and here helped to found a Zionist youth movement, that took upon itself to educate young people via scouting methods, and called itself Hashomer (guard). It joined with the Kadima (forward) movement in Ruthenia. The combined movement was called Hashomer Kadima. Within the membership there were several ideologues that created a dogma that was binding for the rest of the members. The ideology was based on Borchov's theory that the Jewish nation must also become a nation just like all the others. That's why the social pyramid of the Jewish nation had to be turned upside down. He claimed that the base must be formed by those doing manual labor, especially in agriculture - that is why young people should be raised for life in kibbutzim, in Palestine. During its time of activity it organized six kibbutzim: Shaar Hagolan, Dfar Masaryk, Maanit, Haogen, Somrat and Lehavot Chaviva, whose members settled in Palestine. From 1928 the movement was called Hashomer Hatzair (Young Guard). From 1938 Nazi influence dominated in Slovakia. Zionist youth movements became homes for Jewish youth after their expulsion from high schools and universities. Hashomer Hatzair organized high school courses, re-schooling centers for youth, summer and winter camps. Hashomer Hatzair members were active in underground movements in labor camps, and when the Slovak National Uprising broke out, they joined the rebel army and partisan units. After liberation the movement renewed its activities, created youth homes in which lived mainly children who returned from the camps without their parents, organized re-schooling centers and branches in towns. After the putsch in 1948 that ended the democratic regime, half of Slovak Jews left Slovakia. Among them were members of Hashomer Hatzair. In the year 1950 the movement ended its activity in Slovakia.

14 Moshav

Village community in Palestine (then Israel), where - in contrast to the kibbutz - people did have own homes and could decide independently about their own lands. At the same time they farmed collectively, and members of the community helped one another. The emigrants of the 1880s established the first villages of this type, and there were 18 of them by 1897. A majority of them became important towns.

15 Hakhsharah

Training camps organized by the Zionists, in which Jewish youth in the Diaspora received intellectual and physical training, especially in agricultural work, in preparation for settling in Palestine.

16 Deportation of Jews from the Slovak State

The size of the Jewish community in the Slovak State in 1939 was around 89,000 residents (according to the 1930 census - it was around 135,000 residents), while after the I. Vienna Decision in November 1938, around 40,000 Jews were on the territory gained by Hungary. At a government session on 24th March 1942, the Minister of the Interior, A. Mach, presented a proposed law regarding the expulsion of Jews. From March 1942 to October 1942, 58 transports left Slovakia, and 57,628 people (2/3 of the Jewish population) were deported. The deportees, according to a constitutional law regarding the divestment of state citizenship, could take with them only 50 kg of precisely specified personal property. The Slovak government paid Nazi Germany a "settlement" subsidy, 500 RM (around 5,000 Sk in the currency of the time) for each person. Constitutional law legalized deportations. After the deportations, not even 20,000 Jews remained in Slovakia. In the fall of 1944 - after the arrival of the Nazi army on the territory of Slovakia, which suppressed the Slovak National Uprising - deportations were renewed. This time the Slovak side fully left their realization to Nazi Germany. In the second phase of 1944-1945, 13,500 Jews were deported from Slovakia, with about 1000 Jewish persons being executed directly on Slovak territory. About 10,000 Jewish citizens were saved thanks to the help of the Slovak populace.(Source: Niznansky, Eduard: Zidovska komunita na Slovensku 1939- 1945, http://www.holocaust.cz/cz2/resources/texts/niznansky_komunita)Niznansky, Eduard: Zidovska komunita na Slovensku 1939-1945)

17 First Vienna Decision

On 2nd November 1938 a German-Italian international committee in Vienna obliged Czechoslovakia to surrender much of the southern Slovakian territories that were inhabited mainly by Hungarians. The cities of Kassa (Kosice), Komarom (Komarno), Ersekujvar (Nove Zamky), Ungvar (Uzhorod) and Munkacs (Mukacevo), all in all 11.927 km? of land, and a population of 1.6 million people became part of Hungary. According to the Hungarian census in 1941 84% of the people in the annexed lands were Hungarian-speaking. 18 German Invasion of Hungary: Hitler found out about Prime Minister Miklos Kallay's and Governor Miklos Horthy's attempts to make peace with the west, and by the end of 1943 worked out the plans, code-named 'Margarethe I. and II.', for the German invasion of Hungary. In early March 1944, Hitler, fearing a possible Anglo-American occupation of Hungary, gave orders to German forces to march into the country. On 18th March, he met Horthy in Klessheim, Austria and tried to convince him to accept the German steps, and for the signing of a declaration in which the Hungarians would call for the occupation by German troops. Horthy was not willing to do this, but promised he would stay in his position and would name a German puppet government in place of Kallay's. On 19th March, the Germans occupied Hungary without resistance. The ex-ambassador to Berlin, Dome Sztojay, became new prime minister, who - though nominally responsible to Horthy - in fact, reconciled his politics with Edmund Veesenmayer, the newly arrived delegate of the Reich.

19 Birkenau (Pol

: Brzezinka): Also known as Auschwitz II. Set up in October 1941 following a decision by Heinrich Himmler in the village of Brzezinka (Ger.: Birkenau) close to Auschwitz, as a prisoner-of-war camp. It retained this title until March 1944, although it was never used as a POW camp. It comprised sectors of wooden sheds for different types of prisoners (women, men, Jewish families from Terezin, Roma, etc.), and continued to be expanded until the end of 1943. From the beginning of 1942 it was an extermination camp. The Birkenau camp covered a total area of 140 ha and comprised some 300 sheds variously used as living quarters, ancillary quarters and crematoria. Birkenau, Auschwitz I and scores of satellite camps made up the largest center for extermination of the Jews. The majority of the Jews deported here were sent straight to the gas chambers to be put to death immediately, without registration. There were 400,000 prisoners registered there for longer periods, half of whom were Jews. The second-largest group of prisoners were Poles (140,000). Prisoners died en mass as a result of slave labor, starvation, the inhuman living conditions, beatings, torture and executions. The bodies of those murdered were initially buried and later burned in the crematoria and on pyres in specially dug pits. Due to the efforts made by the SS to erase the evidence of their crimes and their destruction of the majority of the documentation on the prisoners, and also to the fact that the Soviet forces seized the remaining documentation, it is impossible to establish the exact number of victims of Auschwitz-Birkenau. On the basis of the fragmentary documentation available, it can be assumed that in total approx. 1.5 million prisoners were murdered in Auschwitz-Birkenau, some 90% of who were Jews.

20 Kanada (in German, or usually Canada)

The luggage of the Jews deported to Auschwitz was taken on arrival to a series of special warehouses known collectively as "Kanada." As the mass of deportations arrived at Auschwitz during 1942 new storage facilities (Effektenkammer) staffed by prisoner labor squads were created to accommodate the goods arriving with deportees. From 1942 to 1943, between 1,000 and 1,600 male and female prisoners worked in two shifts. Kanada I was moved to the BIIg sector of Birkenau, consisting of six storage barracks. Until December 1943, Kanada I served as the central facility for sorting material looted from arriving prisoners and preparing this material for future reutilization. Kanada I was run by a succession of SS men. Kanada II, comprised 30 barracks, started operating in December 1943 and functioned until the liquidation of Auschwitz. Kanada II quickly became larger than Kanada I and in late July 1944 had a total of 590 men assigned prisoner laborers. By October 1944, probably more than 1,500 to 2,000 men and women prisoners worked in Kanada II at sorting the contents of the luggage for reutilization in the German war economy. This included clothing, personal possessions like hair brushes and tooth brushes, and eventually also byproducts of the killing process: such as, dental gold and human hair (used as fleece linings in military jackets). The prisoners considered the labor squads in Kanada as better "Kommandos," since there they had the chance to obtain illegally food, clothing, and other valuables. (Source: http://lastexpression.northwestern.edu/essays/glossary_milton_main.htm)

21 Death march

In fear of the approaching Allied armies, the Germans tried to erase all evidence of the concentration camps. They often destroyed all the facilities and forced all Jews regardless of their age or sex to go on a death march. This march often led nowhere and there was no specific destination. The marchers received neither food nor water and were forbidden to stop and rest at night. It was solely up to the guards how they treated the prisoners, if and what they gave them to eat and they even had in their hands the power on the prisoners' life or death. The conditions during the march were so cruel that this journey became a journey that ended in the death of most marchers.

22 Ravensbrück

Concentration camp for women near Fürstenberg, Germany. Five hundred prisoners transported there from Sachsenhausen began construction at the end of 1938. They built 14 barracks and service buildings, as well as a small camp for men, which was completed separated from the women's camp. The buildings were surrounded by tall walls and electrified barbed wire. The first deportees, some 900 German and Austrian women were transported there on 18th May 1939, soon followed by 400 Austrian Gypsy women. At the end of 1939, due to the new groups constantly arriving, the camp held nearly 3000 persons. With the expansion of the war, people from twenty countries were taken here. Persons incapable of working were transported on to Uckermark or Auschwitz, and sent to the gas chambers, others were murdered during 'medical' experiments. By the end of 1942, the camp reached 15,000 prisoners, by 1943, with the arrival of groups from the Soviet Union, it reached 42,000. During the working existence of the camp, altogether nearly 132,000 women and children were transported here, of these, 92,000 were murdered. In March of 1945, the SS decided to move the camp, so in April those capable of walking were deported on a death march. On 30th April 1945, those who survived the camp and death march, were liberated by the Soviet armies.

23 Malchow

A small German town in the province of Mecklenberg-Pomerania. In 1943-44, a prisoner of war camp was added to the munitions factory beside the town, which served as a sub-camp of about 4000 deportees for the Ravensbrück concentration camp.

24 Terezin/Theresienstadt

A ghetto in the Czech Republic, run by the SS. Jews were transferred from there to various extermination camps. The Nazis, who presented Theresienstadt as a 'model Jewish settlement,' used it to camouflage the extermination of European Jews. Czech gendarmes served as ghetto guards, and with their help the Jews were able to maintain contact with the outside world. Although education was prohibited, regular classes were held, clandestinely. Thanks to the large number of artists, writers, and scholars in the ghetto, there was an intensive program of cultural activities. At the end of 1943, when word spread of what was happening in the Nazi camps, the Germans decided to allow an International Red Cross investigation committee to visit Theresienstadt. In preparation, more prisoners were deported to Auschwitz, in order to reduce congestion in the ghetto. Dummy stores, a café, a bank, kindergartens, a school, and flower gardens were put up to deceive the committee.

25 Adoption of Hungarian names

Before 1881 the adoption of Hungarian names was regarded as a private matter and the liberal governments after the Compromise of 1867 treated it as a simply administrative, politically neutral question. At the end of the 19th century the years of the Millennium brought an upsurge in the adoption of Hungarian names partly because the Banffy cabinet (1895-1899) pressed for it, especially among civil servants. Jews were overrepresented among those adopting a Hungarian name until 1919 (the last year when more Jewish than Christian people were allowed to do so). After WWI, during the Horthy era, politicians did not consider the nation a mere political category anymore, and one had to become worthy of a Hungarian name. Assimilation of the Jewry was also controlled by this process (only the Minister of the Interior had the right to decide on it), and in 1938 the adoption of Hungarian names by the denominational Jewry was practically stopped. After WWII, between 1945 and 1949, 50,000 petitions were filed, about a third of them by Jews, on reasons for changing German or Jewish sounding names.

26 Slansky trial

In the years 1948-1949 the Czechoslovak government together with the Soviet Union strongly supported the idea of the founding of a new state, Israel. Despite all efforts, Stalin's politics never found fertile ground in Israel; therefore the Arab states became objects of his interest. In the first place the Communists had to allay suspicions that they had supplied the Jewish state with arms. The Soviet leadership announced that arms shipments to Israel had been arranged by Zionists in Czechoslovakia. The times required that every Jew in Czechoslovakia be automatically considered a Zionist and cosmopolitan. In 1951 on the basis of a show trial, 14 defendants (eleven of them were Jews) with Rudolf Slansky, First Secretary of the Communist Party at the head were convicted. Eleven of the accused got the death penalty; three were sentenced to life imprisonment. The executions were carried out on 3rd December 1952. The Communist Party later finally admitted its mistakes in carrying out the trial and all those sentenced were socially and legally rehabilitated in 1963.

27 Velvet Revolution

Also known as November Events, this term is used for the period between 17th November and 29th December 1989, which resulted in the downfall of the Czechoslovak communist regime. A non-violent political revolution in Czechoslovakia that meant the transition from Communist dictatorship to democracy. The Velvet Revolution began with a police attack against Prague students on 17th November 1989. That same month the citizen's democratic movement Civic Forum (OF) in Czech and Public Against Violence (VPN) in Slovakia were formed. On 10th December a government of National Reconciliation was established, which started to realize democratic reforms. On 29th December Vaclav Havel was elected president. In June 1990 the first democratic elections since 1948 took place.

Judita Sendrei

Judita Sendrei
Subotica
Serbia
Interviewer: Klara Azulaj

My family background
Growing up
During the war
Post-war

My family background

My name is Judita Sendrei (maiden name - Bruck). I was born on March
4, 1927 in Subotica. Our family lived in my paternal grandmother Janka
Bruck's (maiden name - Kantor) house. There we had a big yard with a small
greenery. In the building there were two separate housing units. I lived
with my parents in one section made up of four rooms and washrooms and
toilets. My grandmother Janka lived in the other part. My grandfather,
Lipot Bruck, was employed on a homestead that he managed. Unfortunate
events led him to fall off a horse and die in Subotica on May 27, 1920. We
had a permanent cook and housekeeper who lived with us in the house.

My grandmother Janka kept a kosher home. My grandparents were not
Orthodox but they celebrated all the holidays. My father, Matija Bruck,
read the Hagaddah at every Seder. Our Hagaddah was in Hebrew and Hungarian.
We lit candles on Shabbat, made challah and prepared a festive meal. My
father, grandmother and mother each had their own seat in the Neolog
synagogue. We fasted on Yom Kippur, and I remember that our cantor sang so
well that there was not enough room in the synagogue when he sang Kol
Nidre. Rabbi Gersan led the service. We lit Hanukkah candles.

My father, Matija Bruck, was born in Bacsalmas, Hungary on December
21, 1890 and died on January 11, 1961 in Subotica. My father came from a
very poor family. He used to tell us how he went to another Jewish family's
house for lunch every day. It was known exactly which family he would go to
on which day. He suffered a great deal during his education. After
graduation, he went to Berlin where he enrolled in medical school. However,
during the first anatomy class, even before dissecting the corpse, he
fainted. He quickly realized that medicine was not for him and he
transferred to chemistry. During the days he attended classes and tutored
children and in the evenings he studied.

After graduating from the university, he found work. In the meantime,
he noticed that the grapevines on his father's small parcel of land
produced very weak grapes. Experimenting in the different laboratories
where he worked part-time to gain experience, he invented a material for
protecting grapevines. He did not have enough money to pay for registering
the patent, which was called "COSAN," so he went into partnership with a
friend who paid the money for him and with whom he later shared the
dividends equally. He received the dividends continuously until 1934. With
the arrival of Hitler, the dividends were discontinued. They still use his
patent all around the world under different names, and today they are still
producing it in the "Zorka" factory in Sapac, Yugoslavia.

From the proceeds of the dividends he bought a 30-hectare vineyard in
the Backa vineyards, a house in Belgrade on Sava Kovacevic Street (with 14
apartments) and a villa in Palic, where we spent our vacations. My father
was a great lover of Palestine and he traveled there for the first time in
1934. He was a socialist at heart. Upon his return from Palestine, with
great animation, he told us of his impressions, especially about kibbutzim
which he liked very much.

My mother, Magda Bruck (maiden name - Nemenyi) was born in Pancevo on
August 18, 1905 and died in Subotica on February 1, 1977. She came from a
rather well off family. She met her future husband when she was very young.
My father was already a student, and there was a 15 year age difference
between them. After primary school and four years of secondary school, she
was sent by her parents to a boarding school in Vienna for future
housewives, with the hope that this would distance her from Matija. But
this did not prevent the sweethearts from seeing one another. Whenever
Matija was passing through he would visit her at the dormitory presenting
himself as her uncle. Their love was culminated by their marriage in 1926
in the Subotica synagogue.

My maternal grandfather and grandmother, Miksa and Ilona Nemenyi,
owned a store in the center of the city that offered a selection of goods
for sale. Their son Djordje, who was 4 years younger than my mother, owned
a fabric store. He worked there until 1942 when the Hungarians took it from
him. Djordje married Hedi Rozenfeld in Backa Topolo in 1940 and they had a
daughter named Agica.

My grandfather, Miksa Nemenyi, died in his own home in July 1927. The
stress of his death caused my mother Magda to develop Kushing's disease, an
illness affecting the pituitary gland. In the course of six months Magda,
who until then was distinctly thin, became very fat. One of the
consequences of this illness was frequent fainting. My father took Mother
to Vienna and Berlin looking for a cure, but in vain. During that time, I
stayed with my grandmother.

Growing up

When I was six years old I went to a preparatory grade in school,
because I did not know Serbian, since we only spoke Hungarian and German at
home. The school I attended was the Queen Marija Elementary School,
formerly a Jewish school. Many Jewish teachers worked there. When I
graduated from primary school, I went to gymnasium for three years. In 1941
when the Hungarians came, my father, through some connections, succeeded in
enabling me to stay in school even though a recently enacted law only
allowed a small percent of Jews to continue going to school. In the school
there were teachers who came from Hungary, and in most cases they were anti-
Semites. They noticeably lowered the Jewish children's grades. Our friends
in our grade would make fun of us. The Catholic priest, Ciprus, treated the
Jewish children the best. During religion lessons, Jewish children were
forced to go outside regardless of the weather conditions. But Priest
Ciprus allowed us to remain in the classroom if it was cold outside.
Private Jewish religion classes were taught well and in detail by Professor
Vadnaj. In addition to Jewish history, he also taught us to write and read
Hebrew.

In memory of the days when he was a poor boy and went to strangers'
houses for lunch, every Sunday my father would invite two boys to come for
a meal. His house was open for every visitor. I remember one time when
members of a male choir, about thirty of them, fleeing from Germany to
Palestine, came for lunch. Frequently in 1942 forced laborers from
neighboring estates ate lunch with us. As a shnoder (Editor's note: Yiddish
for one who gives charity), he always paid in advance and anonymously.

During the (Austro-Hungarian) monarchy, there were many Zionist
organizations in my country (Subotica was then in the Empire). Especially
active was the Women's Society which held various meetings, and organized
games. B'nai Brith also functioned and young people participated in
Hashomer Hazair or as they called it the "Ken."

During the war

The moment the Hungarians entered Subotica in 1941, we could no longer
gather in the Ken (Jewish youth club). This was when the president of the
Jewish community was Dr. Zoltan Loran. My friend Alisa Francuska and I
suggested that we get some wool and that we knit winter things for those
people who had been taken into forced labor brigades, as many Jews had been
then. This knitting usually was arranged around a lecture on culture.

On March 19, 1944 the Germans arrived in our city and I had to start
going to school wearing a yellow star. My father convened a family assembly
and asked his closest relatives if they wanted to try and save their lives
by converting to Catholicism. I was the most vocal with my answer. I said
that it was not even a consideration: "Never! I will remain a Jew until the
end."

Very quickly after that my father was taken to a camp in Backa Topolo,
and they put the whole family in the ghetto. After a short time they were
loading us into wagons headed for Bacsalmas, Hungary. My grandmother was
put in a hospital, and my mother and I took shelter in a mill where we
slept on the bare ground and I contracted an inflammation of the lungs.

Through one young soldier, to whom I gave my ring, I managed to send a
letter to my father to tell him where the family was located. My father in
turn used the first opportunity to volunteer to register and to set out in
our direction, towards the first wagon. Quickly we were transported to
Szeged and later to the Strashov camp. In the meantime, my paternal
grandmother Janka died, and Ilona, Hedi and Agica were taken to Auschwitz.
According to the story of a witness, my maternal grandmother Ilona and
little Agica were immediately selected for execution, and my aunt Hedi was
on the side that was supposed to be taken to forced labor, but little Agica
cried and was searching for her mother, so that Hedi voluntarily signed up
and moved to the side that was taken to death. My uncle Djordje returned
from forced labor in October 1945. He married for a second time. In 1946 he
and his wife, Anika Hajduska, had a son named Beni. Uncle Djordje moved
with his wife and son to Israel in 1948, where they had a daughter named
Mirijam.

From the moment that my parents and I arrived in the Strashov camp we
were no longer separated. We went from there to the work camp in Austria,
where we awaited liberation. A little on foot, a little by horse drawn
carriage, and we managed to make our way to Bratislava. While filling out a
form at the repatriation office for registration, I came across the young
Pavel Sendrei. When he heard my last name, he asked me if we had relatives
in Pecuj, and it turned out that we were some sort of relatives, but not by
blood. I was always hungry, and Pavel took me for meals whenever he could,
sometimes even three times a day. So that he could in some way repay him,
my father would invite him to Subotica when time permitted. Pavel came to
visit my parents in 1946, and in May 1947 he and I married.

Post-war

Immediately after our marriage, I went with Pavel to Czechoslovakia.
On April 24, 1949 we had a daughter, whom we named Sonja. In 1956 the
Jewish community received an invitation to a reception with the Israeli
ambassador in Prague. Out of all of the members of the Jewish community in
all of Czechoslovakia, my husband Pavel and I were the only ones who
accepted the invitation. All the others were scared to reply. At the
reception we met the ambassador's secretary who had moved to Israel from
Czechoslovakia in 1938 and who my husband knew from before. He informed us
that the JOINT was helping, as much as possible, elderly Jews who had
survived the Holocaust, but that the money could not go through the Jewish
community, but rather was distributed through individual volunteers who
were ready to help. We accepted this work and did it until March 1957 when
the Czech government arrested us on spying charges, and later claimed that
Pavel and I undermined the Czechoslovak Republic, because we anonymously
sent money to Holocaust survivors.

Pavel was imprisoned from March 29, 1957 to March 29, 1959 and I was
imprisoned from March 29, 1957 to November 29, 1957. It was so terrible in
prison, that I prefer not to think about that period. I'm sorry not to
speak about it; I cannot. After serving our sentences, life was very hard
for us in Czechoslovakia. I very much wanted to return to Yugoslavia
because my mother Magda lived there. I spoke with Pavel and he accepted my
suggestion that we move to Yugoslavia, that is to Subotica, in December
1962.

After a year, I found work as the head of reception at the Palic
Hotel. Later on the hotel changed its name to the "Patrija." I worked in
that position until July 1980 when I became the acting director of the same
hotel, holding that position until my retirment in 1983. Between 1983 and
1993 I volunteered in the Subotica Jewish community doing administrative
work. When there are interesting cultural events, I very happily go to the
Jewish community.

Cilja Laud

Cilja Laud
Tallinn
Estonia
Interviewer: Ella Levitskaya
Date of Interview: March 2006

I met Cilja Laud during my first visit in Tallinn. The chairwoman of the Jewish community of Estonia 1, Cilja assisted me with my visa and then arranged the interviews with the members of the Jewish community. Cilja is a petite lady with cropped fair hair. She looks elegant in her nice clothes and light makeup. When I saw her for the first time, I felt her briskness coming from inside and also passing on to the people surrounding her. Cilja moves and talks quickly. She thinks fast and it does not take her long to make decisions. At first I took Cilja as an emotionless business lady, deeply immersed in the problems of the community. On the weekend Cilja called me and suggested that I should spend a weekend with her husband Rein and her. First we went on an excursion to the historic center of` Tallinn, and then took a trip to a typical small Estonian town, Rakvere, where Cilja had some relations with the Jewish community. Cilja and Rein picked me up at the hotel and a day of indelible impressions started. Cilja's husband is tall and stout and kind of sluggish. I understood that they had much in common. Both of them have a wonderful sense of humor, similar tastes and common interests. They are very sincere, outgoing and kind people. Cilja showed me Tallinn with pleasure. She knows the town and loves it very much. My trip to Rakvere was very interesting as well. On our way Cilja told me a lot about Estonia, about past times - before the annexation to the USSR. Both Cilja and Rein told much about the true history of Estonia, not the way it was covered by Soviet ideologists. At that moment I saw another Cilja: attentive, joyful and outgoing. In the evening Cilja and Rein took me home and introduced me to her mother right away. Anna Perelman has been bed ridden for several years - she had femoral neck fracture. Again I saw other traits in Cilja: a loving and caring person, for whom her mother was the most important person in her life. I could see it in her eyes when she was talking to her ... When I interviewed Cilja a year later, her mother had already passed away. She and other family members will be always remembered by people and in the conversation of Cilja Laud.

My father's family history
My mother's family history
Growing up
During the War
After the War
Going to school
Jewish life
Life after the War
Glossary

My father's family history

My father's family lived in Parnu [about 140 km south of Tallinn]. I do not know anything about my paternal grandfather, Abram Perelman. Even my father did not remember him. He died young and my grandmother, Genya Perelman, became a widow when she was 24 having three little sons. I do not know when Father's elder brother, Simeon, and the younger one, Yakov, were born. I can only say that the difference in years was not essential. My father Isaac was born in 1904.

Grandmother did not have anybody to help her. She had to provide for her family and raise her sons. She did not have any profession as she became a housewife after getting married. Grandmother had some close friends in Tallinn and she decided to move there. She said all women in her family loved cooking and were very good at that. Grandmother told me that she was eager to become a professional cook in Tallinn, but she could not study as she was supposed to provide for her family. Thus, she was hired as an assistant by the owner of the Jewish canteen. She learned things on spot and soon she became an excellent cook. The owner valued her so much that she bequeathed the canteen to Granny. When the owner died, Grandmother took over the business.

Grandmother ran the canteen very well. Grandmother was not just a very good cook, but she also loved her business. Rich Tallinn Jews often came to her and she had pretty good earnings. Over time she managed to buy the first floor of the building located at Lejke Karja Street in the center of Tallinn. The family lived there and Grandma called the restaurant Bialik club 2. It was not a canteen, but the place where Jewish intelligentsia got together. People came there to enjoy good food and to share political and cultural events. At times famous people came there. It seems to me that they mostly came there for good food as grandmother was an amazing cook and confectioner. Some Estonian Jews still remember her meat patties and gefilte fish.

Of course, Grandmother used traditional recipes, but still she added some zest in all her dishes. She always cooked gefilte fish herself. She did not cook the whole fish, but stuffed separate pieces. She put the pieces of dried white loaf at the bottom of the pot and put rounds of beet there and then fish on the top. Then she put a piece of carrot on each piece of fish and then added a little bit of water there. Then she placed it on the platter in a fancy way. Tallinn Jews called her gefilte fish - 'fish Frau Perelman.' Many newcomers came over to her to eat her fish. I still cook fish by her recipe.

She also had her own recipe of liver pate. She did not boil the liver like most cooks do, but she fried it in the source-pan for about two minutes. Then she minced it and added fried onion. Then she added three spoons of cognac to every kilo of pate and two to three minced boiled carrots, then she mixed it all up thoroughly. The pate turned out to be very fluffy and tender. Grandmother adorned it with grated boiled eggs - whites and yolks separately.

Grandmother always made sure that her dishes were not only tasty but nice looking. It was taken for granted that there was a lot of food on the tables of Jewish families. Grandmother also wanted the food to be nicely served. Jews are a wonderful nation - apart from their own customs and traditions, they naturally and organically take up the customs and lifestyle of the people who are surrounding them. Estonians are very cultured. Estonian ladies intuitively feel how they should serve the table, furnish the room, where to place a vase, how to match things depending on the occasion. My grandmother was also very good at that. All looked beautiful in her place and fit the occasion perfectly.

Even her looks were stylish - I should say she was commensurate though she was heavy. At that time there were other beauty standards and men liked plump ladies. She was not a beauty, but still she was attractive. I think there were suitors who wanted to marry her even despite three children, but Grandmother did not want a stepfather for her children and remained alone. She was very brisk. Being a widow for 24 years, she managed to provide food for her children, raise them and even pay for their education.

All Jewish holidays were marked in the family. Grandmother cooked festive food not only for her family. It was a busy season in her restaurant. On the eve of the holidays Tallinn Jews did not only come to Bialik club to have meals but they also ordered meat patties, gefilte fish, forshmak and liver pate to go. Those were Grandmother's specialty dishes and she cooked them herself. So, she had a lot to do before the holidays.

During the holidays she took a rest and her restaurant was closed down. She marked holidays at home strictly in line with the traditions. On holidays the whole family went to the synagogue. Seder was traditionally carried out as well as kapores on Yom Kippur. She fasted on that day as well. Not only family members were invited for holidays. If Grandmother found out that some Jew had nowhere to go for celebration - either because of being lonely or a visitor to Tallinn she always invited them to join us for a holiday.

At home Grandmother spoke Yiddish with her sons and Father was fluent in that language. Of course, he was also fluent in Estonian as he lived among Estonians. At that time no Jew would ever think that one could live in the country without knowing the state language.

Grandmother sent Father's elder brother Simeon to Riga. He entered the university and studied journalism. After schooling he came back to Estonia. He worked for an Estonian newspaper as a journalist. He married a famous Estonian ballet dancer, Anna Exton. She was the soloist at the theater 'Estonia' and was fluent in seven or eight languages. She was an amazing person. After her performances she mingled with the audience and thanked them in all languages she knew. Simeon and Anna were childless.

When Estonia became Soviet in 1940 3, Simeon Perelman was named the editor of the paper 'Soviet Estonia.' When World War II was unleashed, Germans occupied Tallinn in September 1941. Several hundreds of Tallinn's male Jews were shot in Patarei prison. Simeon was among them as he was a communist in his heart and the editor of the newspaper. During the war Anna was in evacuation. She returned to the 'Estonia' theater after the war. First she was a prima ballet dancer and then became one of the principal choreographers of the theater and staged ballets. Her ballet 'Red Poppy' was very popular and she always got standing ovations from the audience for it. Anna died relatively recently, about eight to ten years ago.

I do not know what Father's younger brother Yakov did for a living. I did not communicate with him that much. He died young. I do not know where he studied either. Yakov's wife's name was also Anna. I do not remember her maiden name. They had an only son, Gennadiy. His Jewish name is Gedalie. He was Anna's son. Yakov was his stepfather. Yakov married Anna when she was pregnant from another guy. At that time it was a great disgrace when a baby was born out of marriage, so Yakov decided to marry her to save her from disgrace. He loved her dearly and treated the baby like his own son.

Anna never worked. She was cheap, flirted a lot, but Yakov forgave her all the time as he loved her. During the war Anna and her son were in evacuation and Yakov was in the lines. When he came back from the front he was sick for a while and died in 1947. He was buried in the Jewish cemetery. There is no date on his tombstone. We even do not know exactly when he was born. There is only the date of his death.

After Yakov's death, Anna got married for a couple of times and took to the bottle. My father literally saved Gennadiy from his mother - a drunkard. Her last husband was a colonel. He served in Estonia. His name was Levin and Gennadiy took his stepfather's name. It was a shock for my father as Gennadiy remained the only one who carried our family name, Perelman. I did not have children and Father really hoped that Gennadiy would continue the Perelman line, but not all people are thankful. Gennadiy became Levin and we stopped keeping in touch. We greeted each other and talked as if we were not relatives. We did not have any ties with him.

When Gennadiy became mature, he found his birth father. Now Gennadiy is living in Baltimore, the USA. I do not keep in touch with him. I could not forgive his meanness towards Yakov, who had been an excellent father to him all his life, even better than some of the birth parents are.

I do not know much about Father's childhood. He studied in Leipzig, Germany, at some point. I do not know why he came back. Upon his return he became the apprentice of a glover. Father was very skillful at anything he did. He became an excellent glover.

Since adolescence he had the nickname Prince. He was called Prince by his young friends and the nickname remained. He was very witty and a great storyteller. Everybody liked to listen to him. He was fluent in three languages and then he also learned Russian. In all languages he spoke his humor was a specific characteristic of the language. Father never took any music classes, but played the violin wonderfully. When I was in the senior grades at school, he could so easily resolve algebra tasks that it greatly surprised me. He was a nugget having an amazing, open mind. He was also very kind, always ready to help his friends and strangers. He remained like that till the end of his days.

My mother's family history

And now about my mother's family. My maternal grandfather, Abram Kaplan, was born on 16th September 1874 in Estonia, in Yamburg. I do not know anything about grandfather's family. When he was young he moved to Narva from Yamburg. He was a very good tailor. My grandmother, Anna Kaplan, nee Pertsovskaya, was born in Saint Petersburg on 27th January 1884.

There was a pale of settlement in Russia 4, and Jews were not permitted to live in big cities, including Saint Petersburg, but still there were exceptions. My grandmother's grandpa was a cantonist 5, who upon decommissioning from the army, were entitled to settle in any city they wished. Besides, the tsarist government gave them money for husbandry and housing. Thus, Grandmother's grandpa happened to be in Saint Petersburg. His children and grandchildren also settled there. The family was religious. All Jewish traditions were observed and all kids were raised Jewish.

They had five children. The elder was Elisabeth. Then my grandmother Anna was born, and after her - sister Sofia, brother Simon and sister Ekaterina. All of them were very beautiful and well educated. They had a good ear for music and wonderful voices, but only Sofia became a professional singer and entered the conservatoire. Grandmother's only brother Simon became a jeweler. Simon lived with his family in Leningrad. He had an only son Alexander. Elisabeth remained single. She did not work and the relatives provided for her. Sofia married a Muscovite and moved to Moscow. Her husband's name was Boris Narvo. He was an architect. They did not have children. Boris was very jealous and did not want his wife to work. Sofia had to become a housewife. Ekaterina lived with the family in Tallinn after the war.

My grandparents met accidentally. Grandmother came to Narva for a visit. One day she came to see some Jewish family, where she met Grandfather. She was a very beautiful, clever and witty lady. Grandfather was also handsome. Shortly after they met, they fell in love with each other. Grandmother's parents were not against her marriage and soon the wedding took place. Of course, they had a true Jewish wedding as it could not have been otherwise at that time.

After the wedding Grandfather took Grandmother to Narva. My mother was born there in April 1910, but the entry in the synagogue registry was made only in August. She was named Chana. The second daughter, Nessie, and the youngest, Assia, were born in Tallinn.

I do no know why my grandparents decided to move in Tallinn. Maybe Grandpa decided that he would have more customers in Tallinn. If that was the case, he was right. Very soon he had his own workshop and regular customers. The family was well-off. Grandpa was the bread winner, and his earnings were enough for the family. Grandfather bought an apartment on Viru Street in the center of Tallinn. It consisted of 13 rooms and occupied the entire floor. Apart from the apartment in Tallinn, Grandpa also bought a summer house in Lakhti, Finland. It was in the resort area. Grandfather had a yacht. In the summer the whole family took a voyage on the yacht over the weekends.

The whole family was fluent in Estonian, Finnish and German. Of course, everybody spoke Yiddish. The grandparents and my mother also knew Russian as they lived in Narva for a while, which was a Russian-speaking town as it bordered on Russia. Aunt Nessie was fluent in English.

The three daughters studied at the lyceum. The younger one, Assia, died at the age of eleven from a children's disease. My mother and Nessie graduated from lyceum and entered Tallinn conservatoire. Both of them were very musical; they probably took after Grandmother. In a couple of years Mother dropped her studies, but her sister Nessie got a diploma and became a pianist. Nessie married a Jew from Tallinn, Paul Goldman, and had three sons.

I do not know exactly how my parents met. Probably, it was in a natural way as all Tallinn Jews knew about each other. I know the story about their wedding as mother told me about it. It was an unusual story. They got married in 1936 after they had known each other for several years. They met at dancing parties and in the theaters. At first, they did not pay much attention to each other. Dad was shorter than Mother and she did not even look at him. Father wanted to be free and remain a bachelor. He liked partying, noisy companies. He often went to the clubs, restaurants. Apart from his short height he was an interesting man. When he started talking, everybody was enchanted. Maybe that was the reason why mother took an interest in him. She was very stylish and elegant, used to bossing men around. She was not used to be refused in anything.

Of course, Father liked Mother, but not to such an extent to give up the lifestyle he was used to. Once Father mentioned it to Mother. She responded to him, 'Never mind, my love would be enough for the two of us.' Mother often told me about it and I remembered that phrase. After that Father married Mom. Then he fell in love with her after they got married. He loved her all his life and admired her. He helped her about the house, saw her to and from work. He never forgot about the flowers. Mother was a very poor cook. Before the war the food was cooked by maids and when we came back from evacuation, Father started cooking for us. He was a great cook. I think he got it from Grandmother Genya.

Growing up

After the wedding my parents rented an apartment in downtown Tallinn, on Bruksi Street. Mother was a housewife. I was born in 1938 and named Cilja. Though Mother was a housewife, I had a baby-sitter since I was an infant. She was German, Frau Opperman her name was. She was very strict. She was not pleased when I was chatting with my parents, nothing to speak of my grandparents. Opperman raised me very strictly and feared that they might spoil me. Of course, when I spent time with them, they really pampered me. Mother said that Frau Opperman loved oranges. Thus, Grandpa brought oranges to Frau Opperman for her to allow me to go for a walk with him or go to see my grandparents. In that case, she could not say no to him.

I do not remember much about my prewar childhood in Tallinn. I remember sitting on the lap of Frau Opperman, who was reading books to me. I can recall how my parents took me to the zoo for me to see the animals. I also remember the walks along Kardiorg Park with my father. I also remember that I was a bad eater, but Frau Opperman always made me eat all the food on my plate. When she turned away, I hid the food under the table cloth. When she left the room I threw the food out the window or to the roof of the neighboring house.

I must have been started speaking German as I spent a lot of time with my baby-sitter. I spoke only German before we left for evacuation. Of course, my parents were fluent in German, but they often spoke Yiddish. In general, many languages were spoken at home.

I would like to make a digression and talk about Estonia before the 1940s. Even at the time, when Estonia was a part of the Russian empire, there was no anti-Semitism here. There was no pale of settlement and admission quota at the universities 6. That is why there was Jewish intelligentsia in Estonia, not just a few representatives like on the rest of the Russian territory. Most Estonian doctors, musicians, lawyers, engineers were Jews. It was not like that in other Baltic countries. It was distributed as follows: Lithuanian Jews - craftsmen and dealers, Latvian - traders, but Estonian - Jewish intelligentsia.

In Estonia there was not such a notion as townlet, which was mentioned by Sholem Aleichem 7. Jews lived everywhere, in all Estonian cities. They were not clustered in some areas which were meant solely for them, but settled mostly downtown. They stuck together. It is noteworthy to mention that after 1918, when Estonia gained independence 8, there was no state anti-Semitism. Even in everyday life it was very weak. There was a café in Tallinn where even in Estonian time Jews were not permitted to enter. At the same time there were Jewish clubs, which were closed for Estonians.

In 1926 the Estonian Jewish community got cultural autonomy 9, granted by the Estonian government. Cultural autonomy streamlined the development of the Jewish community of Estonia. Estonian Jews had self government, which was headed by outstanding Jews: the director of the Tallinn Jewish lyceum Samuel Gourin, Tamarkin, Eisenstadt and other worthy people. Those people revived Jewish life. There were all kinds of Jewish organizations, 32 in total. There were student Jewish organizations in Tartu as well as a mutual aid fund, wherefrom poor students were provided money for tuition donated by rich Jewish families. Thus, Jewish life in Estonia was fully-fledged.

Of course, religion was an essential part of life for Estonian Jews. The synagogue united all Estonian Jews. I think there was not a single Jewish family, where Jewish traditions were not observed and where children were not raised in a religious spirit. There was a wonderful synagogue in Tallinn 10. It was crowded on holidays. It goes without saying that there were Estonian, Russian, German and Jewish schools. Everybody could choose what school to attend and what language should be spoken, but all Estonian Jews spoke Estonian. Of course, I know all those things not from my own recollections, but I just wanted to speak about it for people to have an understanding what type of childhood I had. I think it will help people understand what Estonian Jews were like.

In 1940 Estonia became a Soviet republic. Of course, my parents were not happy about it, but what could they do? They had to adapt to the reality. Probably, Father's elder brother Simeon was the only one in our family who welcomed the Soviet regime as he was a hard-boiled communist. The rest of us just abided by that. There were a lot of newcomers from the USSR. They were to settle somewhere. The new regime took the houses from the owners, and strangers were housed in large apartments, where only one family used to be living. Our apartment was also turned into a communal one 11, two or three families moved in there. Then, we found out that it was not the most horrible thing.

On 14th June 1941, 10,000 Estonian citizens were deported from the country 12. Maybe that number does not seem so big as compared to those repressions that took place on the territory of the Soviet Union [see Great Terror] 13. It should also be noted that the entire population of Estonia was only about a million at that time.

Fortunately, our family was not affected by that. It is amazing that it went past us. There were no rich people in our family: Father was a glover, that is, a craftsman, Grandfather was a tailor. They did not have anything, but the family of Mother's sister Nessie, the Goldmans, were deported. They were wealthy, and such people were considered enemies by the Soviet regime. The whole kin of Paul Goldman was deported: men were sent to the Gulag 14, women and children were exiled. Maybe, finally they would reach us, but on the 22nd of June 1941 German troops invaded the territory of the USSR. The Great Patriotic War began 15.

During the War

Father was mobilized almost right away, but not in the lines, but in the city of Kirov. There were plants, where military uniforms were made and Father was in charge of the glove making department for the Soviet army. He spent all the years of the war there and all we could do was write to each other. We left for Ural, Nizhnyaya Uvelka, along with other Estonian Jews. We took the last train. Mother's parents and Grandmother Genya went with us. I hardly remember the road. I remember a huge crowd at Tallinn train station. Mother carried me and I leaned against her shoulder. The rest was like in a haze.

I remember our life in evacuation in Ural very well. When we reached Nizhnyaya Uvelka, Mother took me by the hand and we went looking for the rural administrative building. It was the place where they were supposed to tell where our family - my grandparents, mother and I - were to get settled. I remember poor rustic ladies looked at my mother as if she was a wonder as she was wearing high heeled shoes, posh clothes, a silver fox fur and a hat. Finally, my mother found the rural administration building and we went to the place we were told.

I did not know the name of the hostess. She was not young. Like it was customary in Russian villages, people called her by the patronymic Kuz'movna. She gave us a poky room, which was still good for those times. Then Mother said that she was shocked when she saw some people sitting at the table, combing their hair and then pressing something. First, she could not get what they were doing, and then she understood that they took out the lice. She was so stressed that she remembered that till the rest of her days. Mother never forgot the kindness of Kuz'movna. She helped us a lot.

My grandparents were afflicted with typhus fever in Nizhnyaya Uvelka. Of course, there were no medicines and Kuz'movna treated them herself with some herbs, and healed them. She took care of Mother. Mom practically did not know anything about house chores. She even washed the floor for the first time in evacuation. She was 32, but it was the only time she did it. Each time she tried cleaning, some of the rural ladies told her, 'You, Anyuta, would better play the piano in the club, I will clean myself, you just smudge it more.' At that time there were no tape recorders, but young people, wanted to dance to music. Mother played the piano in the club during the entire period of our stay in evacuation. All people loved her. Grandmother cooked for us. Kuz'movna had a goat and she gave a glass of milk to me every day.

Though, I spoke no Russian at that time, I made friends with Kuzmovna's younger son Ivan. He was several years older than me and took care of me. As a result of our friendship my first Russian words were expletives. He did not scold me - it's just that all villagers were swearing. Now I understand how funny we must have looked together - a village boy and I wearing a white fur coat and a bonnet. Mother dressed me the same way as in Tallinn. Here I had the same habits brought up by Frau Opperman.

Mother told me how in those years of hunger and cold, when she could hardly get me the eggs, I refused eating them, as I demanded that she should give me an egg saucer... I could not eat them without that. That story was included in our family anecdotes and Mother often used to tell people that anecdote and they would laugh about it. In spite of my speaking German, people treated me very well. In general, I can say that people from the Ural are very kind and warm. Grandmother's sister Elisabeth came to us from Leningrad. Unfortunately, she did not live with us for a long time as she died in 1943. She was buried at the cemetery of Nizhnyaya Uvelka.

Our hostess Kuz'movna really saved our family during occupation. Upon our return to Tallinn, Mother did not forget about it. For one, she always kept in touch with her and once, in 1956, she invited her to come over to us. The people in the Ural had a worse living than the very needy ones in Tallinn. Of course, my parents bought her a whole bunch of clothes and other presents for her and her relatives.

We got food cards 16 during the war, but the products which were given were not enough. We starved at first, but then my grandfather Abram Kaplan, who was a tailor, became a bread-winner for our family. He got another qualification and started making military uniforms. His customers were high- ranking officers. He became a brilliant specialist and he had a lot of clients. They paid him mostly with products, so we were not starving any more. After the war Grandpa kept sewing military uniforms. I remember General Soloviov in particular. He recognized only grandfather's work and came only to us for fittings.

When Tallinn was liberated from the fascists in 1944, Mother's sister Nessie and her son were the first to return home. Her husband Paul, the only Goldman who escaped deportation, was at the front. He was drafted into the Estonian corps 17. He came back crippled from the front. His leg was injured and he had osseous tuberculosis. His disease was progressing fast and Uncle Paul could walk only with crutches.

After the War

Soon we went over there. Nessie lived in the grandparent's apartment on Viru Street, but we were given only four rooms out of 13 we had. The rest of the rooms were occupied. My baby-sitter Opperman managed to preserve part of the bedroom furniture and table silverware. The rest was taken by those who stayed in Tallinn. We became practically indigent. Father was still staying in Kirov. They did not let him leave the plant, and he came back home only in 1947.

We were very needy. Grandfather was the only bread-winner. Father stayed in Kirov and we did not know when he would come back. It was hard. The silverware which Frau Opperman managed to save, was taken by Grandfather to the pawn shop for us to get by.

At that time Grandfather often started inviting a Jew who came to Tallinn from Moscow on business. His name was Simeon. He was a hatter and worked for the Kremlin and for Stalin as well. He was a very rich person. Grandfather started talking Mother into being with him. He said that she was too young and she should not wait for her husband for years, saying that she should think of her and me and accept the proposal of a decent man who would accept me like his own child. Such talks were frequent even in my presence. Grandfather insisted that Mother should divorce Father and leave with Simeon for Moscow. Mother did not want that. I do not remember all the details, but I feared that I might leave home and never see my dad, whom I loved so much.

Finally, Grandfather talked Mother into going to Moscow and take a closer look at Simeon and then make a decision. Mother and I came to Tallinn train station and I ran away home right before the train was about to depart. Since then nobody mentioned a trip to Moscow again. Later Father came back. The whole family was together. I was so happy.

My paternal grandmother Genya came back from evacuation. She got two rooms in the house, which she used to own before the war, that is, her club. Five more families were housed in the rest of the rooms. There were terrible anti-Semites, newcomers from the USSR, among them. The Yanu family were all drunkards. Grandmother had to hear the words 'kike mug' pretty often. There were debauchery and threats. In a word, the conditions were terrible.

It was just one filthy kitchen for five families, but one stove for all those people. There was a small partitioned part of the kitchen instead of a bath, and then our elderly neighbor died and Mother asked for permission to make a bathroom in her poky room.

Grandmother started baking pies to make some money for a living. When Tallinn Jews found out that Grandmother Genya had come back to Tallinn, they started asking her to make lunches at least. Grandmother was happy to do what she liked again. She even managed to open a small canteen in her apartment. Of course, it was impossible to do it officially during the Soviet regime, but Grandma was a very smart woman and she could make it so that nobody could find fault with her.

One room was occupied by Grandmother. There was a large table in the other one, where she served meals to everybody who came over. There were mostly visitors, whom she treated. Nobody said that they had to pay for her treat. Of course, if the authorities had found out that Grandmother had a canteen, and made money with that, they would have closed it down and fined her at best. But most likely she would have been put in prison as at that time private entrepreneurs were in disgrace as they allegedly hampered the economy of the country. People were sentenced for a pretty long term for that.

Of course, there were inspections: she explained that her prewar friends came over to her as they knew she was a good cook and she said that she treated them to food free of charge. If she had a chance to feed people, why should anybody care? Strange as it may be, that explanation was accepted. Some of the visitors came over two to three times a week. There were even some people who came every day. There were all kinds of people, even the most respectable Jews in Tallinn. Of course, Grandmother took money from people who were well-off, but she also helped a lot of poor people, and not only Jews.

Grandmother found out that a poor Jewish lady, Chasse Umova, and her daughter were living close by. They were very poor. Grandmother took her as an assistant and gave her a chance to make money and feed her daughter. Chasse's daughter Edit came to Grandma everyday and she was given the food for free. I made friends with her. We grew up together.

Grandmother also hired an elderly Russian man with one eye. He bought potatoes on the market, cleaned fish and did odd jobs. He was a drunkard, but Grandmother was sorry for him. She fed him and helped him out. Grandmother did not only help those who could work for her. If she found out that some of the local Jews had no money for food, she fed them. She helped them until they managed to provide for themselves.

Grandmother cooked herself. Chasse just helped her buy the things, pared vegetables, cut meat and vegetables, washed dishes. There was one cooker for all people in the kitchen and the neighbors cooked their food there during the day. Grandma cooked food for her canteen at night or early in the morning, when nobody was there. When her younger son Yakov died in 1947, Grandmother started helping his widowed wife and son Gennadiy with money and they had them move to her. The boy went to school, and Grandma fed him, bought him clothes and took care of him. She was very stalwart. Her energy and kindness were enough for everybody.

Grandmother did not leave her business even after she was sick. She was unwell. There was one period of time when Dad stayed there to look after her. Even at that time she did not close down her canteen. Only when I started working, making enough money to help Gennadiy, who was a student, Grandma closed down her business. At that time all of us provided for her. Genya died in 1960. She was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Tallinn. Of course, the funeral was in line with the Jewish rite. Even in Soviet times the Estonian authorities shut their eyes to that, though in Russia and Ukraine it was next to impossible to bury the person in accordance with the Jewish tradition. Those people who knew Grandmother, still remember her with kindness.

Going to school

I went to school pretty late, at the age of eight. My Russian was very poor, with a strong accent, and I could hardly speak Estonian. Of course, after the war there were no German schools in Tallinn, only Russian and Estonian ones. At first, Mother decided that I should go to an Estonian school, but the teacher at elementary school, an Estonian, did not speak Russian, only Estonian, and I could not understand her.

Luckily, Mother transferred me to a Russian school, where the teacher was an elderly Jew. If I misunderstood something in Russian, she retold me that in Yiddish. Since Yiddish and German were similar I could understand her. I learned Russian over time. I also was well up at Yiddish. We lived with my maternal grandparents. If they wanted to conceal something from me, they started speaking Yiddish. Thus, I learned the language. Though, I speak Yiddish only with a Russian and Estonian accent, but still I am fluent in that language and my listening comprehension skills are also good.

I did pretty well at school. Mathematics was a stumbling stone for me. I am really bad at that. I had no problems with the arts. I had many friends among my classmates. I was a very active girl and always arranged some games. We liked playing war, where I was always a leader. There were girls among my friends, but still most of them were boys.

My classmates often came to our place on holidays or just for dancing parties or for a chat. Usually when kids come to somebody's apartment, they want their parents to leave, but it was vice versa in our case. My parents were loved. When Father started telling his stories, everybody paid close attention. They were never so attentive at the classes. They always asked Mother to play the piano. There was a huge grand piano in our room and Mother played both classic and dancing music.

It goes without saying that when the teacher made an announcement in the 3rd grade about joining the pioneer organization 18, I decided that I should do it right away. I even corrected my bad mark in arithmetic to join the pioneers as it was sacred for me! I was the class monitor and the leader of the chairman of the pioneer council of the class. Then I became an active Komsomol member 19 as I sacredly believed in the ideals. I was even the chairman of the Komsomol unit of our school. [Editor's note: Komsomol units existed at all educational and industrial enterprises. They were headed by Komsomol committees involved in organizational activities.] Strange, that that is what I did.

Father did not like Stalin and he never held it back from me. Father and his friends often said in my presence that we would be much better off without Stalin, called him blood-thirsty, told us about repressions, the Gulag. There was such a period in Estonia, in the late 1940s, when very few Gulag survivors started coming back. They spoke of the horror of Stalin's camps and it was hard to believe in that. Father understood clearly who Stalin was and explained that to me, though he warned me not to discuss those things with anybody.

Father was frank with the people who were surrounding him he must have said something what he was not supposed to and somebody informed against him. Father was arrested. I recall, I was on the way home from school and saw my father was walking towards me with two men accompanying him on both sides. I asked him where he was going and he kissed me and said that it might the last time we see each other. Fortunately, his fears were not realized. During the litigation he was not accused of political crime, but of larceny. Nobody believed that as they understood that it was connected only with the politics. He was sentenced for a long time, but he was actually in prison for two years and was pardoned. Father's friend Rachmiel Bloomberg helped him a lot while he was in prison.

In 1948, when campaigns against cosmopolitans 20 began in the Soviet Union, we did not have them, but we had the same collectivization 21, as in the USSR of the 1930s. Estonian peasants were compelled to join kolkhozes 22. They did not think that it was merely impossible for Estonians. They had a different mentality - they were used to live out of town at their own farmsteads and have their own husbandry. Though the land was very poor and stony in Estonia, the crops were high as Estonians are hard working people and put their heart and soul in work. People did not want to get united in one kolkhoz as it was strange for them.

Then Estonia started another deportation. Peasants were exiled to Siberia only for their desire to be the hosts in their own land, and do what they were good at. Entire Estonian families were deported and farmsteads were forsaken at first, but soon new hosts appeared there. Then they also deported those who happened to come from the exile in 1941. Not only men, but young boys were exiled.

In the post-war period Stalin issued an order to release from exile those who had vocational and higher education, though they were not permitted to live in Tallinn and other relatively large cities of Estonia, but still they came back home. And now in the late 1940s they were arrested and exiled again. Some of their relatives were still staying in exile. The second deportation referred only to the two above-mentioned categories. The rest were not touched.

The next wave of repressions started with the Doctors' Plot 23, but our family was not affected. We did not have doctors in our family. Nobody from our relatives worked in state structures. Though, Grandmother's kin from Leningrad suffered from that. Grandmother's distant relative worked for the Kremlin hospital and he was imprisoned. Though, shortly after Stalin's death, she was released from prison and rehabilitated 24.

I clearly remember 5th March 1953 - the day of Stalin's death. I was at school at that time. Our classes were canceled. All students were aligned and taken to Baltic train station. There was a monument to Stalin and we were supposed to sob there listening to the speeches and mourn over him. I felt happy. The school girls had navy blue and gold berets and I covered my face with the beret for people not to see that I was laughing. They must have taken my laughter for sobbing.

At home people took that even with relief. Father said, 'Finally! Now we will have another life and we can breathe freely.' Then there was the Twentieth Party Congress 25. Of course, I read Khrushchev's speech 26, when it was partially covered in the media. In general, I did not hear anything new as compared to the stories I heard from my dad. The only difference being that it was a prominent party activist saying that, not my dad, therefore I accepted it differently.

I thought Stalin to be a bad, tough man, but the ideology of communism was correct. I decided to be an active Komsomol member to fight for ideology not to be distorted. I wanted to be fair and consistent. I was childish and idealistic - what else can I say ... when I grew up I understood that communism pictured by a utopist was really wonderful, but it was an illusion, a nice fairy-tale for adults.

The events of the Twentieth Party Congress were not discussed at home. At times the adults would drop a phrase along the lines of 'it is good that the thaw started, maybe our relatives will have a better life in Russia.' My uncle Alexander could get the position of the first fiddle in Mariinskiy theater. He waited for a long time, and they did not take him because he started playing better, but just because it turned out that the nationality factor was less important. His wife managed to be in charge of the foreign languages chair at the Financial Institute in Leningrad after being an associate professor. We were not affected by that in any way.

Anti-Semitism appeared in Estonia after the war. However, it was not noticeable at the state level, because Estonians were at power there, who always treated Jews tolerantly. Though, there was anti-Semitism towards the Jews who came from the Soviet Union, and I think that the attitude was bad to them not because they were Jews, but because they were Soviet Jews. Anti- Semitism came from newcomers. We could hear things like 'kike,' 'Hitler failed to exterminate you.' Usually Estonians sharply reacted to that, not the Jews. They protected Jews.

The newcomers from the USSR were given the cold shoulder and treated ironically. From our point of view, the newcomers behaved at least strange. Officers' wives went to the best Tallinn restaurant, Gloria, wearing posh long nighties. They bought night gowns thinking it to be dresses as they had never seen anything of the kind before. They did not understand what a bidet was. One lady told my mom that Estonians were such fools as they did not understand that it was not convenient to wash one's hair in that bidet. They did not know what toilet paper was for and they used newspaper instead. They did not understand that they had to flush the toilet etc. The hostess could serve the salad to the guests in a metal pipkin and put an aluminum spoon there. An Estonian lady would never do that. There was no culture in everyday life. I even do not know how to put it - a totally different culture or the absence of culture. It was natural for them and wild for us.

I often thought why so many Jews stayed in Estonia during the war and did not want to get evacuated. Almost all Jews who stayed were exterminated by the Germans. Probably there were several reasons. At first, Estonian Jews were used to live close by with Germans. There were pretty many Germans in Estonia before Hitler called upon 'Volksdeutsche' to come back to their motherland. Jews always had a peaceful relationship with them. Many Jews were in Germany, and my father studied in Leipzig.

Therefore there was no fear of Germans. Probably people knew about the war in Poland 27, concentration camps, execution of Polish Jews. They must have known that for sure as it was broadcast by the radio, covered in newspapers. I understand that people thought that it was not referring to them. Like now I think that I have nothing to do with the things happening in e.g. Chechnya 28 or Afghanistan. It is there, but I am here, so it cannot affect me.

Maybe there was a likewise perception of the events that took place in Poland. I am sure, not many of the Estonian Jews believed that Hitler would exterminate the Jews until the third generation. The fear of the Soviets was much stronger than of the Germans after all those things that the Bolsheviks 29 had done for one year, after the deportation of 1941.

Many people must have hoped that the Germans would protect them from the Bolsheviks and Estonia would gain a normal course of life again. They were mistaken and paid with their lives for that mistake. As for Estonians, the German occupation was much easier on them than the Soviet one. Estonians have a lot in common with German traditions and culture.

After the war we were told that it was the Soviet army which liberated Estonia. Estonians thought that the Soviet army liberated Estonia from the Germans to occupy it. There is a grain of truth in both of` these statements. Estonians had their own perception of history and Estonian Jews theirs, and those who settled in Estonia after the war had their own. History is not black and white, it is multicolored.

It also refers to the fact that Estonian people were in two armies: the Estonian Corps in the Soviet army, and the Estonian Legion SS 30 in the German one. Estonian Jews were drafted into the Soviet army because of their beliefs - they wanted to fight fascism, fascist ideology and other Estonians had weaker ideas: they wanted to take the Germans' side and fight Soviet occupation. In general, Estonians, did not care which side they should take, as both of them were alien, but in their eyes the Bolsheviks appeared to be more dreadful than the Germans.

Jewish life

We have always been Jews. Even during the Soviet times we marked Jewish holidays in line with the calendar. On Pesach and on Yom Kippur I did not go to school. Mother wrote notes to the teacher saying that I either had a sore throat or abdominal pain. On those holidays I could not attend classes.

I also went to the synagogue on holidays. Our beautiful Tallinn synagogue was destroyed during the war. After the war the municipal authorities gave Tallinn Jews the premises for a prayer house - at first it was at the second floor of the automobile base, and then separate premises on Magdalen Street - a wooden hut with mice and rats. I went to the synagogue with Mother and Grandma, to the balcony. Men were to sit separately. I did not have such a kerchief as Grandma had and I put my pioneer scarf on my head.

Grandfather went to the synagogue rarely and after war he became an atheist. Probably he could not abide by the fact that God had allowed the extermination of so many Jews just because of their nationality. On high holidays, such as Yom Kippur, he went to the synagogue with us, but he refused putting on a kippah and wore a cap. He put it on, then entered the synagogue and stayed there for the service because of Grandmother, who had sincerely remained pious even after the war.

We almost always marked Sabbath at home. Grandmother cooked gefilte fish. It was not kosher as we did not observe kashrut after the war, but anyway it was a true Jewish dish. We marked holidays according to traditions. Even in the hardest times we had matzah. Grandmother made gefilte fish, strudel and baked hamantashen on Purim. Grandmother Kaplan made potato fritters by traditional recipe, but Grandma Perelman added fried onion there. They were amazingly tasty and nice looking - of golden color, not graying.

We lived in a very large room, 44 square meters. It was a rare thing in Soviet times. We did not put any partitions there. During my childhood we rode bikes in that room. On Pesach the whole family came to the Kaplan grandparents. A large table was set up for a big family reunion. Our family and Aunt Nessie with her family came over. Of course, during the Soviet time it was banned to mark religious holidays, and not only Jewish, but any religious holidays. Estonians also stealthily celebrated Christmas as it was banned by the officials. Both Jews and non-Jews marked their holidays and got ready for them beforehand.

If we could not get matzah for some reason, we baked it ourselves. Grandfather remade one of his tailoring gadgets to make matzah. The whole family was involved in the baking process. Grandmother kneaded the batter and we, kids, rolled it and pierced it with that gadget. Grandfather baked the matzah.

There was a woman called Tosya in our yard, who was working at a fish factory. She brought us huge salmons for the holidays. I remember Grandma cutting it and the caviar was slowly getting down on the board. Grandmother made the caviar herself. She also salted salmon, and boiled it. We did a thorough cleaning on Pesach eve and took away the chametz. There should not be any breadcrumbs left. Then grandmother hid a couple of slices of bread, which were supposed to be found and burned by grandfather. That was the rite.

After that we could get the Pascal dishes. Once when Grandpa was looking for bread, I took a slice of roll and threw it on the floor for Grandpa to find it easily. It was either in 1949 or 1950, several years after war. Grandfather saw that, took a thong and beat me. It was the first time in our house, and not only me, but Grandmother and Mother were shocked too. Grandfather told me, 'During the war people starved, died from hunger, how could you throw the bread on the floor?' Since that time I have never thrown away a single piece of bread, as I was so strongly impressed by Grandfather's words.

Pesach was according to tradition. Grandfather put a cap on and said the prayer. Seder started. He hid the afikoman and I was to find it with my cousins. The one who found it was given a present - either some sweets or a book. Grandfather knew all necessary prayers to be said during certain holidays.

We marked Purim and Grandmother baked a whole bunch of hamantashen. My cousins and I took shelakmones to people as per Grandmother's request. Grandfather did all that Grandmother asked him. We, kids, loved Purim. We were given masks and pageant costumes. We gave small performances and adults gave us presents for that. In general, we were pampered at Purim, we were even given wine.

On Channukah, when adults gave us money, we were not supposed to hold account how we spend it. I remember another family holiday - it was the day of the foundation of Israel 31. When Palestine was recognized as an independent state, it was such a great joy for our family! Grandmother made a feast on that occasion like on a big Jewish holiday. The whole family got together and Grandma Perelman came over. Since that time that holiday has always been marked in our family.

My grandparents lived a long life together. They were nice and friendly to each other. God sent them an easy death. Grandfather died in his sleep on 11th December 1964. Though grandmother was ten years younger, she survived him only by three months. She died on 13th March 1965. Both of them were buried in our Jewish cemetery. They had a traditional Jewish funeral.

Since childhood I was friends with my cousins, the sons of my aunt Nessie. I did not call them cousins, but brothers as they were really my blood. We were living in one apartment and always kept in touch, though I was older than them. The elder son of Aunt Nessie, Isaac was born before the war, and after the war, in 1945 my aunt gave birth to twins - Simeon and Rafael. Right after we came back from evacuation my uncle Paul, Nessie's husband, started helping Mother a lot. He raised me like his own daughter. He also bought me clothes and toys. Uncle Paul died young, in 1953. Then my parents started helping Nessie and raised her kids. It is a pity that our big family is severed.

Life after the War

My elder cousin, Isaac Goldman, married a Muscovite and moved to Moscow. He was a surgeon, the associate profession. His wife did not take his surname after getting married and their son got her maiden name, Kozlov, as she did not like the Jewish family name Goldman. Only when the son was to get an Estonian passport to be able to travel worldwide, he used his Father's name. Isaac's wife did not treat him fairly. She was a mean woman, money was the pivot of her life.

Isaac died from a stroke in 2003. It is good that he did not remain a cripple as it would have been terrible with the wife he had. My younger cousins are alive, though they are sick. One of them is in Düsseldorf, Germany, and the other one - in Tallinn. I often get in touch with Rafael and his family, who are living in Tallinn. He was an excellent military officer, retired with the rank of a colonel. He has a wonderful wife, Svetlana, and a son, Pavel.

When Father was released from prison, he went to work at the plant Esticable. He started working in the workshop, but not as a worker, but as a foreman. He had pyelonephritis and was sick all the time. He worked while he could stand on his feet. He was not only working at the plant, he was also elected chairman of the comrade's court in our housing administration. [Editor's note: In the USSR there were comrade's courts, consisting of the most respectable members of the team. Those courts were meant for minor delinquencies and violations of certain order or standards by the employees of the enterprise. They could make an administrative penalty: deprive people of a bonus, make a reprimand etc.]

When his consulting hours were over, people came home to see him. There was not a single time, when Father would tell anybody to make a preliminary appointment. He received people at home and helped them. There were so many people willing to see him! He was not merely loved, he was trusted. I think it is even more important than love. When Father was marking his 60th birthday, there were more than 50 people at home! Everybody found fantastic words for my father.

Then Father's diseases started progressing and he kept to bed. We were constantly looking after him, not only my mother and I, but also Nessie, her sons, and my parents' friends. Father died on 1st March 1973 at the age of 69. He was buried according to the Jewish rite in the Jewish cemetery of Tallinn. I vaguely remember his funeral. I was overcome by grief and did not see anything else. As far as I recall it was very cold and many people came. Not only Father's, but Mother's colleagues came over too. There were a lot of people, whom Father had helped, or just supported with a kind word during the hard moments of his life. Father is still remembered. Every year on Father's birthday, 24th May, I see fresh flowers on his grave. I do not know who brings them there. Once I met an unknown lady by his grave. This Estonian lady told me, 'I would have been evicted from my apartment, if your Father had not helped. Father was an amazing man and people still remember his kindness.

I went to work when I turned 16. In general, there was no need for me to drop my studies and start working. It was my wish as I wanted to become independent as soon as possible. I wanted to work and have my own money. Of course, I did not correspond to the notion of a good Jewish girl from a good Jewish family. 'Good Jewish girls' were so tacit, so proper. I was active, even a tomboy. I got transferred to the evening school after the 8th grade.

During the first year of my studies I worked as a pioneer leader at a compulsory school, but I had to quit my job: I spent a lot of time at my work, but I had to study. Then I went to the plant, where Father was working. I was the head of the warehouse of high-voltage wire. There were a lot of precious things there, costing millions. Larceny was in full swing during the Soviet times. On my first day, I held a meeting with all my subordinates and asked them not to steal as I was young, and not willing to be put behind bars only because I could be easily deceived. They loved me, did not steal and even did not swear in my presence.

Of course, the job was hard. Even now my hands get cold easily as I used to be in the freezing cold during the winter watching the wire being loaded into the cars. The containers were placed on huge trucks from which wire in huge reels was to be loaded into the cars. I counted them and recorded that in the logbook. I had to wear a huge jersey coat which was below the knees as I was short, and mitts. It was so funny - I against the background of huge stevedores. I was confident and could cope with my work. I finished evening school, when I was working at the plant then I graduated from the Librarian Department of Leningrad Culture Institute.

I went for extramural studies at the institute. I wanted to have a fully- fledged life. I worked, studied, and was involved in social activities, met my friends, fell in love - in general I managed it all. Of course, here my character also played its part, but my mother did a lot for me. She did not look after me all the time like most Jewish mothers, but she controlled me. When I was studying at an evening school, I still loathed mathematics and tried to cut the classes and suddenly my mother showed up and said where I was heading. I had to come back.

I was always surrounded by boys, I did not have many female friends. Mother always said with sadness, 'Why are those punks glued to you?' In reality, a lot of my friends were not 'good boys.' Mother never forbade me to be friends with them. In actuality, she put no bans on me, but controlled me all the time. She always told me, 'If you want to smoke, go ahead, but let me know about that. If you have friends, bring them home for me to meet them.' There were cases, when my friends came to us to talk to my mother as she also became a good friend for them.

My mom was loved by all families I knew. She was very modern and advanced, and not everybody liked that. It was the Soviet, namby-pamby time, and besides there was a special moral in Jewish families. Mother did not fit a traditional understanding of a Jewish mother and our family did not have patriarchal traditions like other families had. Mother discussed all things with them, even about intimacy. I found out about those things from her, not from my friends. I had known since childhood that I was not found in the cabbage. When I became older, it was my mother who told me that the first man should not be the husband obligatorily, but the beloved man. She also said that the experience should be in such a way that there should be no abhorrence to those relationships later. I am very grateful to my mother.

At the same time Mother was very gullible. My cousins always hoaxed her, and when it was revealed Mother was the first to laugh at a successful hoax. In a word, she took after Grandmother. Both of them were very gullible, tidy and strong. When we came back to Tallinn from evacuation I never saw my grandmother wearing a kerchief, only a hat. Mother remained stylish and elegant until her death.

Before graduation from the institute of culture I started working at the Academy of Science of Estonia. First, I worked at the library. When I got the diploma, I was named the head of the patent and license department. I worked there for many years. Then I was offered a job at the plant of the semiconductor devices named after Hans Pegelman. I had better working conditions and a higher salary there. I worked there for 20 years.

Mother worked after the war. At that time Russification started in Estonia, and the authorities decided to open a Russian drama theater in Tallinn. My mother was offered a management position there. She was supposed to do everything from scratch - find the premises, hire actors, work out the repertoire. Later on many of those actors became famous and left for Moscow, but they were starting out in our drama theater. Mother was constantly taking good care of them. First, she was an administrative manager, then the chief administrative manager.

Then she was offered a job at the traveling agency Intourist. It was very prestigious. They needed a person who was fluent in foreign languages and with good manners as she was supposed to communicate with foreign visitors, who had a different understanding of upbringing, femininity, culture, communication. Mother fit them perfectly, though she was 70 years old. She was fluent in German, Finnish and English, but still she had to take exams in those languages at the Tallinn Teachers' Training Institute. Of course, it was a mere formality, as everybody understood that she had good language skills. She passed the exams and was offered the position of the chief administrative manager at Intourist.

When the first and only variety show in the Soviet Union, Astoria, was opened in Estonia, Mother was offered to be in charge. She took to business. It was not hard only because she had to start from scratch. At that time bribes were not legal, but nobody struggled against them, and they were deemed natural. Of course, there were very many people who wanted to see the variety show and everybody tried making money on that, starting from the ushers who let people in. At that time each Astoria usher had two to three cars.

Mother never took bribes. Those who did not know that and offered her money had to listen to many unpleasant words from her. In general, Mother always stuck to one rule: expensive presents could be accepted only from close people, as for the others - only flours and sweets - a natural way to pay heed to a lady. Mother never made any exceptions to that rule when she was working for the variety show.

In general, Mother always remained a big child - naive, honest and kind. Here is an example: once the captain of the whale boat Slava came over. It was hard to get in and he said that he had come to Tallinn only to see Astoria. Mother gave him a table. Then, when she was walking by, she saw that he was drunk and his wallet was popping out of his jacket, and could be easily stolen. Mother took his money and put it in the safe. Next day she called the hotel and told him to come and get his money. She had saved his income of six months.

Only those people who knew Mother very well could believe that she did it without self-interest. She found it natural to help people. Besides, she was very demanding and strict and all waiters obeyed her. Nobody could rebuke her as she was independent - she never took money from anybody, made no benefits for herself. She brought her own sandwiches and tea in a flask to work. She thought she can demand honesty from somebody only if she is honest herself. Mother worked in Astoria as long as she could do so physically.

After 85 she had a cataract and she started getting blind. Then she left her work. Since that time she lived with me. Unfortunately, it was not her only trouble. Several years later, she fell and broke her femoral neck. The doctors refused operating on her as they were afraid that she would not survive it. She was almost 90. She could not walk.

My husband and I tried to do our best for her not to suffer from loneliness. Both of us worked and the sitter was with her all the time. I often called Mother from work. I spent my spare time with her. When our friends came over, they went to see Mom. She had always remained the favorite. She died in summer 2005. She was buried in our Jewish cemetery according to the Jewish rite. Her grave is by Father's. There were a lot of people at her funeral, I even did not know some of them. They said she was a unique person, a legend. They said the whole epoch is gone with her. Probably, those were not merely beautiful words.

In 1968 I was offered to join the Party. It was considered to be a big honor and it would be easier to get promoted with that. I came home and told Father about it. Then my father, he was very rarely sharp, said to me, that he would not explain anything, but I had to make a choice: either I join the Party and forget about my parents, or refuse joining the Party. Then he said that I would understand it one day. Of course, I did not join the Party and was very grateful to Father for that.

I was married twice, and both of my husbands were Estonians. Maybe my parents were not happy with the fact that I did not marry a Jew, but they respected my choice. I know that there are some Jewish families in Tallinn, who treat marriage with a non-Jew like a breach of peace and are strongly against such marriages. It also happened among the intelligentsia. It was not like that in our family. Probably, it is not a very nice thing to say, but I love Jewish men as friends, interlocutors, but if it comes to doing some things about the house, it turns out that they have two left hands. Of course, it is possible to call the locksmith and sanitary technician, but I like it when some small repairs are done by my husband.

I do not know if my first husband would be pleased if I talk about him, so I will just say a few words. I kept his last name Laud even after the divorce. He was a very nice man and we remained friends. Love was gone.... My first husband was a scientist, he 'built castles in sky,' but I had to stand with both feet on the ground. We were absolutely different, but when we were young, we thought that we would accomplish each other, but then it turned out that it was hard for us to live together.

In 1986 I got married for the second time. My husband, Rein Plaado, is wonderful. At that time my father was no longer alive. Mother liked Rein a lot. We lived together in civil marriage for ten years and then he talked me into having our marriage registered. I kept my name as I had a permit to restricted documents at work, so I did not want that hassle with processing it once again.

My husband, Rein Plaado, was born in Tartu 1942. I am four years older than him, and I hope it is not noticeable. Rein was the middle brother. His elder brother is still alive and the younger one is dead. Rein was sorry that his mother never got a chance to meet me; she died young, at the age of 48. I am also sorry for that as he always says nice things about his mother, even if it makes me cry. Rein was the only good son of hers, as the younger and the elder ones drank. He was the only of her children who had a higher education. Rein graduated from Tallinn Polytechnic Institute. He is a chemical engineer. Now he is the director of company Plastronic, dealing with plasmas.

To put it briefly, he is probably the only man who can bear such an authoritarian woman like me. I think we have a lot in common: we like the same pictures, books. Another important thing is that he has a good sense of humor. Rein always recognizes the right of other people to live as they wish and that is also important for me. He was well educated. There was not a single time when I was ashamed of him.

We have been together for 19 years. It is Rein's second marriage. He has two children in his first marriage: a son and a daughter. They are adults now. They are living in Tartu, but visit us. I do not have children, neither from the first nor from the second marriage. I could have had children, but I refused. During the Soviet time I could not leave my job and raise children, and have them looked after by Mother once a week and spend the rest of the time in a kindergarten or at extra curriculum classes at school.

My mother adored Rein. Once she said if all Jewish sons were like Rein, there would be more happy mothers. Rein loved my mother very much and I am grateful for that. He also pampered her, bought her flowers and presents. When Mother could not walk, he looked after her like a devoted son. He carried her into the bathroom in his arms, took her for walks. He often talked to her. When he came back from work, he went to her and shared all things with her that had happened during the day. He called her mommy and 'My Baroness!'

Even after the war Estonia was much different from Soviet republics. My friends from Azerbaijan called it 'a piece of Europe in the Soviet Union.' The Soviet regime differed in Estonia as key positions were taken by Estonians. Of course, those at power were supposed to fulfill the orders of Moscow, but they tried to soften it and make it less burdensome for the people. In general, Estonia was always a liberal country and it helped them in resisting forced Russification and Soviet ideology.

There was no state anti-Semitism during the Soviet regime in Estonia. Due to that there was a bright pleiad of world-known academicians and scientists in Estonia. Jewish scientists were turned out of Moscow and Leningrad universities during the campaign against cosmopolitans and the Doctors' Plot. Many of them came to Estonia, and they were gladly accepted at Tartu University. There were Yuri Lotman 32, the academicians Bronstein, Blum and others, whom Estonia was proud of.

Even when anti-Semitism was in a full swing, Jews could get higher education here. Students from all over the Soviet Union came here to enter the institutions of higher education as they knew perfectly well that here their knowledge would be estimated, rather than the information in the forms. In everyday life the Estonian population liked the Jews. They knew if they needed some help - they would better consult a Jewish doctor and lawyer.

We always followed the events in Israel. It was much easier in Estonia than for the rest of the citizens of the USSR as since 1962 we had a chance to watch Finnish television. It was unofficial, but not banned. Finnish television was a door to the world. There were programs in German and English with subtitles in English. Our entire family knew those languages. Finnish television broadcast a lot of newsreels about Israel. I remember the series of programs called 'Historic Palestine.' They showed the first Jewish settlers there and what they built in Israel.

When there were wars in Israel, the Six-Day-War 33 and the Yom Kippur War 34, there were Finish radio and television broadcasts every day. I was working at the Academy of Science at that time, at a special design bureau. I was in charge of the patent and license department. I had a separate office. There was a large map of Israel on the wall. Every day my colleague Eric Uzhvanskiy and I marked the battles and victories of Israel on that map. There were mostly Estonians in my team and only a few Jews. Even Estonian were worried about Israel!

From early morning they were listening to Finnish radio and then rushed into my office exclaiming with joy, 'Cilja, they won again!' and waited for me to put another mark on my map. Estonians sympathized with the Israelis. It was strange, but true. They have always been liberal and always were worried for a small country that fought for its freedom. I remember, once an elderly academician, Eifeld, an Estonian, a bright representative of the intelligentsia came to me and said, 'I understand that.' Then added, 'You, Jews, are an amazingly talented nation.' Such recognition means a lot! At home, Father also followed military actions. Every Israeli victory was a joy for him, his personal victory.

When there appeared a chance to leave for Israel, many of our friends and pals immigrated. We even did not discuss such an opportunity at home. My parents said that there was too much of an Orient in Israel, and added that they were used to live here. We were used to Estonian reticence, and even aloofness. Our assimilation is not the reason for it. We have always been Jews, in Soviet and post-Soviet times, but we felt that we were residents of Estonia.

When perestroika 35 started in the USSR, it was not as conspicuous and important for Estonia as for other republics. I have already mentioned that Estonia was the most non-Soviet out of all Soviet republics as we had much more opportunities than other republics. We were almost unrestricted in informational freedom and the Iron Curtain 36 was not as heavy here. During the Soviet times, Estonians had a chance to go abroad, and it was much easier for them than for others. There were a lot of trip vouchers, and it was easy to get them. It was common to go to Finland and many people went there.

The only restriction was for those who were working with top secret documents, like me, but there were very few of them. There was also freedom of speech, maybe not like now, but still it was incomparable with Russia. People could speak openly without having fear of informers. When I came to Moscow to see my aunt Katerina, we started whispering during a discussion of politics so that the neighbors would not hear us. Nothing of the kind happened here. Estonian are really honest and amazingly hardworking people.

In 1987 I left the plant and was employed at the National Library of Estonia. There were only two non-Estonians among the employees of the library: a Jew, Regina Pats, who is still working there, a very nice person with broken Estonian, and I. 680 Estonians elected me the chairman of the trade union committee. It was a funny time, the last years of perestroika. There shelves in the store were empty - no things, no products. I was an old fox with an adventurous spirit, so I found a way to get things, and if needed I bribed people. We reached an agreement with the Tallinn shoe factory and they sold shoes in our factory. They brought us a whole bunch of frozen chicken from the grocery base. It was such great luck at that time. We were given trip vouchers, bikes and TV-sets. All our employees got good food and clothes. It was not the only thing I did. In summer our team went for picnics. I arranged a choir there. In general, I tried to make life better for people.

When I reached the age of 55, the pension age in the USSR, I quit my job. At that time the Jewish community of Estonia was open and its chairman, Gennadiy Gramberg, invited me to work there. My colleagues did not want me to leave, tried to talk me into staying, but my decision was firm. I have always been a true Jew. Blood is thicker than water. I am proud of being a Jew, and do not want to be anything else. I went to work at the community when it was just budding.

The Jewish community of Estonia was the first Jewish community in the Soviet Union. In late 1988, during the Soviet regime, it was open in the form of the Jewish Culture Society. It was founded under permission of the Department of Ancient Historical Memoranda Protection, as during the Soviet times the national minorities were handled by that department. Trime Veliste was the director of Ancient Historical Memoranda Protection. Now he is an ardent nationalist, in the bad sense of the word. Nevertheless, he personally approved of the foundation of the Jewish Culture Community. He gave us underground facilities at Vene Street.

The Tallinn Jews David Slomka, Gidon Paeson, Samuel Lazikin were the founders of the community. It existed until 1990 and since then the Jewish religious community held a meeting at the plant of semiconductor devices, where I had worked for 20 years. There it was decided to rename the Jewish Culture Community into Jewish Community of Estonia. Thus it has existed since 1990. They gave us the old premises of the Jewish lyceum 37. The community repaired it and since then we have had our own building. Besides, we opened a Jewish school there and in 2000 the synagogue was opened.

Before Estonia became Soviet in 1940, we had a female Jewish Zionist organization - WIZO 38. It was very active in Estonian times. In 1990 we revived it and I was the one who took care of that. In 1989 the Jewish organization of Sweden invited me to come over. A very famous Zionist, the founder of the Swedish WIZO, Charlotte Etlinger, was living in Sweden at that time. I met her when I was in Stockholm. We spoke in Yiddish. She was trying to convince me that I should revive WIZO in Estonia, go to Israel and see with my own eyes how WIZO is working to understand the goals and tasks and the way to tackle them.

Life was hard in Estonia at that time, and I did not have money for that trip. When my sick Aunt Nessie found out about that trip, she gave me money for that, $100, bought me the ticket to Israel and talked me into going there. When I returned from Israel, I founded WIZO in our community and was its president for 4 years. WIZO is still active, but unfortunately it is not the way it was from the very beginning. Earlier there were a lot of young ladies, the enthusiasts, who used to be very active. We had to start from scratch. The motto of WIZO in Estonia as well as in many other countries of the world is as follows: strong Diaspora - strong Israel.

The main task of WIZO is propaganda of the Zionistic movement as the liberation movement for Jewish peoples. In other words: get out of slavery and become a fully-fledged citizen of Israel. And the second goal is the flourishing of Israel. Many WIZO ladies from all over the world collected money for our state. Houses, kindergartens, hospitals were built in Israel on that money as life there is like a powder keg. We could not collect money for Israel in Estonia as we merely did not have money. We mostly dealt with propaganda of the liberation movement.

Many Jews who came to Estonia after the war did not know anything about it, as in Soviet time Zionism was equal to fascism. Of course, it was important to explain what it was. WIZO held lectures about renowned activists of Jewish culture, science, the liberation Zionist movement. We helped the sick ones, came to see them in the hospitals, brought products to old people, congratulated them on holidays, brought humanitarian help and gave them to people for free. We did our best. I had been the president of WIZO for four years when I was elected the chairwoman of the Jewish community of Estonia.

At the beginning of the occupation of Tallinn by fascists, the Tallinn rabbi Aba Gomer 39 was murdered. In 1944 the Germans burned our wonderful synagogue in gothic style at the corner of ?akri and ?ante Street. It burned down during the bombing of Tallinn. Since that time there was neither a decent synagogue nor rabbi in Tallinn. Those people who were acting as rabbis, had no education. One of them was a gabbai, the religious warden of the synagogue.

There was a time after the war when the former cantor of Tallinn, Gourevich, was acting as rabbi. He was the father of the famous pianist Anna Pliass and grandfather of the famous Estonian conductor Eri Kliass. There was a small synagogue during the Soviet time - a dilapidated wooden building on Magdalen Street. Those Jews, who observed traditions, went there. Those Jews, who came from the USSR, did not go to our synagogue as they were Soviet people. We marked holidays there as well as solemn events.

Life was very poor at that time and that was the main reason for the absence of a rabbi until 2000: the Jews did not have a chance to provide for a rabbi and his family. When Estonia became independent, many things changed, and this problem as well. I filed for a grant to the French government with the request to provide monetary assistance for the construction of the synagogue. We did not have money to construct a good two-storied synagogue so we arranged it in the premises of our community building. When we had our own synagogue, a rabbi appeared. He was invited by one of the founders of our community - David Slomka.

When this rabbi came in Tallinn, things were put in their place. He was a 24-year-old man, very tolerant and good-looking. He was from Israel. Our rabbi, Shmuel Kot, understood that he happened to be in an untypical community. He managed to unite all our Jews. He and his wife became part of our community. They like it and we like them. I think they came here for good. They have three kids. When they arrived, they had one child, and two more were born in Tallinn. They are going for the fourth one. Our rabbi plied us with Jewish religion and traditions.

Due to our local sponsors we managed to restore the synagogue at the cemetery, where ablutions take place. Gradually we are restoring the things that had been taken away from us for many years. Now we are about to start construction of a separate synagogue in the yard of our community. It was our rabbi who found the sponsor. The Jewish family Rov agreed to take up more than half of the construction expenses. Our rabbi takes credit for that.

We have another local sponsor, the son of academician Bronstein, who donated a lot of money for the construction of the synagogue to commemorate his mother, and he is going to donate more. He spent a lot of money. He is a modern person, and probably religious values are not the most important for him, but still he has the feeling that he needs to give, do good. That is why sponsors come to our community. A lot of wonderful people assist us: the American Jew Henri Posner III purchased some Estonian roads. People might think - what would the Jewish community of Estonia be to him, good thing if he knew the location of Estonia, but he came to us and was willing to assist, he gave us 252,000 dollars and we built the fourth floor of our building.

Maybe the Jews are still alive, because we have that pivot in us, either a religious one, or the feeling that we are part of a persecuted nation, or the genetic code of the generation - the willingness to give and to help. It is really much more pleasant to give than to receive. Those charitable traditions are on a genetic level. It seems to me that Jews call themselves the chosen nation because they feel responsible for all going on on our planet. Those ideals help Jewish people survive. The youth should be plied with those ideas, they should be taught to give others with pleasure and rejoice in doing good. This is the way it should be. These are normal relations between the people. Like the sun can melt snow, kindness and compassion can change even the most spiteful and embittered person.

Being the chairman of the community, I felt that the prior challenge was to understand those people and unite them, bring the youth into the community. Now life is hard on young people. There is a lot of aggression, it is observed among Jews as well. There are drugs, alcohol, anarchy. That is why it is important to show morale to young people. I would like to have as many kids and adolescents in our Jewish community as possible. It is essential for the continuation of our line, for the memory, for our history and traditions. Of course, in our time extreme Judaism based on dogmas, seems strange and unacceptable for the majority of the people, but still religion is important. Traditions are also needed.

In 1991 Estonia became independent again 40. Perestroika was ardently resisted by those who were used to that the Party decided everything, that the life in a huge country was governed by the Party. Of course, they did not welcome the reforms. There were cabals. Old communists sought power. They managed to make a military d'etat 42 to get rid of Gorbachev 41 and restore dictatorship. It was horrible that those things could reemerge. We understood that they might be violent. There was no information. Messages of the GKCHP were broadcast on TV and in the intermission we saw the ballet by Tchaikovsky 43, 'Swan Lake.' A tank division arrived from Pskov. It was good that there was no bloodshed. The government of Estonia invited the newly arrived to take a rest and meanwhile they got a message from Moscow that the putsch was suppressed and the GKCHP were arrested. The tanks swerved and left.

There was a Baltic chain: the citizens of the three republics - Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia - were standing shoulder to shoulder with lit candles. Everybody was singing - Estonians, Jews, Russians. They sang the songs about their long-awaited freedom. My husband and I were on the way back from a trip, and we also lit a candle in our car. We stopped on the outskirts of Tallinn and joined in.

The next day I saw a white-blue-and-black flag on the citadel tower of the old city. It was the flag of the First Estonian Republic. There was a red flag with a blue wave and white stripes when Estonia was Soviet. Now there was our Estonian flag! I was overwhelmed with happiness, people were standing and looking at the flying banner and cried from happiness. I also cried.

When I came back home, I told Mom what I had seen and she said, 'You see, I lived to see that !' By the way, what is the story behind it? The flag was preserved by a lady, the Estonian language teacher who worked for our Jewish lyceum. Many people knew about and respected her for that. During the Soviet times Estonian Jews helped her a lot and mostly because she was the keeper of the Estonian flag. Estonia regained independence. The day is as great of a holiday for our family as the day of Israeli independence.

I never regretted the breakup of the Soviet Union. I think that none of the people who inhabited Estonia before 1940 regret it. We regained the right to decide to live the way we wish in our country.

The breakup of the Soviet Union made our lives better. I am glad it happened. The world became open for us. People could travel and communicate. Now life depends on us and it is very important as before there was not such a notion as personality, there was only a common notion - Soviet peoples. The freedom does not only infer democratic values, but makes the human being the biggest value. It is the most important that we have a democracy. Of course, it should not allow permissiveness. Not all things were bad in Soviet times. There were free education and medicine, cheap books, affordable theaters, but there was no choosing of one's life path, which was the most important.

I was the chairwoman of the Jewish community of Estonia until last year. Then I was given an offer at the Ministry of Education in spite of being 68 and I accepted it. I was not known in Estonia, only as the chairwoman of the Jewish community. I was also a member of the round table under the auspice of the president, and our community was cofounder of the Association of Estonian Peoples. I was interested in politics.

Frankly speaking, I think if taking into account human weakness and knowing the culture of different peoples here in Estonia a bit and understanding their psychology, we can find a key to people of all nationalities. This is what we should do. I have always been interested in people and I'm really sorry that modern technological achievements squeeze out communication between people. I hate computers, though I have to work on one. I hate mobile phones, though I have to use one etc.

It is terrible that for young people computers are more important than friends, books, theaters... They need to talk to people, not to computers, as there are some notions which cannot be bought with money. Enjoying the advantages of progress, people stopped being human, became kind of robotic, an application for the advanced achievements.

I do not accept it. If people are kinder to each other, it would be better for them and for the country as a whole. I believe in that in spite of my age. I am not idealistic, I just know that it is true. All problems can be tackled if good things will be noticed in people, if you talk to them about the things that unite us, not separate us. And then later, together we can try to solve the problems we are looking at from different angles.

Glossary:

1 Jewish community of Estonia

On 30th March 1988 in a meeting of Jews of Estonia, consisting of 100 people, convened by David Slomka, a resolution was made to establish the Community of Jewish Culture of Estonia (KJCE) and in May 1988 the community was registered in the Tallinn municipal Ispolkom. KJCE was the first independent Jewish cultural organization in the USSR to be officially registered by the Soviet authorities. In 1989 the first Ivrit courses started, although the study of Ivrit was equal to Zionist propaganda and considered to be anti-Soviet activity. Contacts with Jewish organizations of other countries were established. KJCE was part of the Peoples' Front of Estonia, struggling for an independent state. In December 1989 the first issue of the KJCE paper Kashachar (Dawn) was published in Estonian and Russian language. In 1991 the first radio program about Jewish culture and activities of KJCE, 'Sholem Aleichem,' was broadcast in Estonia. In 1991 the Jewish religious community and KJCE had a joined meeting, where it was decided to found the Jewish Community of Estonia.

2 Bialik, Chaim Nachman

(1873-1934): One of the greatest Hebrew poets. He was also an essayist, writer, translator and editor. Born in Rady, Volhynia, Ukraine, he received a traditional education in cheder and yeshivah. His first collection of poetry appeared in 1901 in Warsaw. He established a Hebrew publishing house in Odessa, where he lived but after the Revolution of 1917 Bialik's activity for Hebrew culture was viewed by the communist authorities with suspicion and the publishing house was closed. In 1921 Bialik emigrated to Germany and in 1924 to Palestine where he became a celebrated literary figure. Bialik's poems occupy an important place in modern Israeli culture and education.

3 Estonia in 1939-1940

On 24th September 1939, Moscow demanded that Estonia make available military bases for the Red Army units. On 16th June, Moscow issued an ultimatum insisting on the change of government and the right of occupation of Estonia. On 17th June, Estonia accepted the provisions and ceased to exist de facto, becoming the Estonian Soviet Republic within the USSR.

4 Jewish Pale of Settlement

Certain provinces in the Russian Empire were designated for permanent Jewish residence and the Jewish population was only allowed to live in these areas. The Pale was first established by a decree by Catherine II in 1791. The regulation was in force until the Russian Revolution of 1917, although the limits of the Pale were modified several times. The Pale stretched from the Baltic Sea to the Black Sea, and 94% of the total Jewish population of Russia, almost 5 million people, lived there. The overwhelming majority of the Jews lived in the towns and shtetls of the Pale. Certain privileged groups of Jews, such as certain merchants, university graduates and craftsmen working in certain branches, were granted to live outside the borders of the Pale of Settlement permanently.

5 Cantonist

The cantonists were Jewish children who were conscripted to military institutions in tsarist Russia with the intention that the conditions in which they were placed would force them to adopt Christianity. Enlistment for the cantonist institutions was most rigorously enforced in the first half of the 19th century. It was abolished in 1856 under Alexander II. Compulsory military service for Jews was introduced in 1827. Jews between the age of 12 and 25 could be drafted and those under 18 were placed in the cantonist units. The Jewish communal authorities were obliged to furnish a certain quota of army recruits. The high quota that was demanded, the severe service conditions, and the knowledge that the conscript would not observe Jewish religious laws and would be cut off from his family, made those liable for conscription try to evade it.. Thus, the communal leaders filled the quota from children of the poorest homes.

6 Five percent quota

In tsarist Russia the number of Jews in higher educational institutions could not exceed 5% of the total number of students.

7 Sholem Aleichem (pen name of Shalom Rabinovich (1859-1916)

Yiddish author and humorist, a prolific writer of novels, stories, feuilletons, critical reviews, and poem in Yiddish, Hebrew and Russian. He also contributed regularly to Yiddish dailies and weeklies. In his writings he described the life of Jews in Russia, creating a gallery of bright characters. His creative work is an alloy of humor and lyricism, accurate psychological and details of everyday life. He founded a literary Yiddish annual called Di Yidishe Folksbibliotek (The Popular Jewish Library), with which he wanted to raise the despised Yiddish literature from its mean status and at the same time to fight authors of trash literature, who dragged Yiddish literature to the lowest popular level. The first volume was a turning point in the history of modern Yiddish literature. Sholem Aleichem died in New York in 1916. His popularity increased beyond the Yiddish-speaking public after his death. Some of his writings have been translated into most European languages and his plays and dramatic versions of his stories have been performed in many countries. The dramatic version of Tevye the Dairyman became an international hit as a musical (Fiddler on the Roof) in the 1960s.

8 First Estonian Republic

Until 1917 Estonia was part of the Russian Empire. Due to the revolutionary events in Russia, the political situation in Estonia was extremely unstable in 1917. Various political parties sprang up; the Bolshevik party was particularly strong. National forces became active, too. In February 1918, they succeeded in forming the provisional government of the First Estonian Republic, proclaiming Estonia an independent state on 24th February 1918.

9 Jewish Cultural Autonomy

Cultural autonomy, which was proclaimed in Estonia in 1926, allowing the Jewish community to promote national values (education, culture, religion).

10 Tallinn Synagogue

Built in 1883 and designed by architect Nikolai Tamm; burnt down completely in 1944.

11 Communal apartment

The Soviet power wanted to improve housing conditions by requisitioning 'excess' living space of wealthy families after the Revolution of 1917. Apartments were shared by several families with each family occupying one room and sharing the kitchen, toilet and bathroom with other tenants. Because of the chronic shortage of dwelling space in towns communal or shared apartments continued to exist for decades. Despite state programs for the construction of more houses and the liquidation of communal apartments, which began in the 1960s, shared apartments still exist today.

12 Deportations from the Baltics (1940-1953)

After the Soviet Union occupied the three Baltic states (Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania) in June 1940 as a part of establishing the Soviet system, mass deportation of the local population began. The victims of these were mainly but not exclusively those unwanted by the regime: the local bourgeoisie and the previously politically active strata. Deportations to remote parts of the Soviet Union continued up until the death of Stalin. The first major wave of deportation took place between 11th and 14th June 1941, when 36,000, mostly politically active people were deported. Deportations were reintroduced after the Soviet Army recaptured the three countries from Nazi Germany in 1944. Partisan fights against the Soviet occupiers were going on all up to 1956, when the last squad was eliminated. Between June 1948 and January 1950, in accordance with a Decree of the Presidium of the Supreme Council of the USSR under the pretext of 'grossly dodged from labor activity in the agricultural field and led anti-social and parasitic mode of life' from Latvia 52,541, from Lithuania 118,599 and from Estonai 32,450 people were deported. The total number of deportees from the three republics amounted to 203,590. Among them were entire Lithuanian families of different social strata (peasants, workers, intelligentsia), everybody who was able to reject or deemed capable to reject the regime. Most of the exiled died in the foreign land. Besides, about 100,000 people were killed in action and in fusillade for being members of partisan squads and some other 100,000 were sentenced to 25 years in camps.

13 Great Terror (1934-1938)

During the Great Terror, or Great Purges, which included the notorious show trials of Stalin's former Bolshevik opponents in 1936-1938 and reached its peak in 1937 and 1938, millions of innocent Soviet citizens were sent off to labor camps or killed in prison. The major targets of the Great Terror were communists. Over half of the people who were arrested were members of the party at the time of their arrest. The armed forces, the Communist Party, and the government in general were purged of all allegedly dissident persons; the victims were generally sentenced to death or to long terms of hard labor. Much of the purge was carried out in secret, and only a few cases were tried in public 'show trials'. By the time the terror subsided in 1939, Stalin had managed to bring both the Party and the public to a state of complete submission to his rule. Soviet society was so atomized and the people so fearful of reprisals that mass arrests were no longer necessary. Stalin ruled as absolute dictator of the Soviet Union until his death in March 1953.

14 Gulag

The Soviet system of forced labor camps in the remote regions of Siberia and the Far North, which was first established in 1919. However, it was not until the early 1930s that there was a significant number of inmates in the camps. By 1934 the Gulag, or the Main Directorate for Corrective Labor Camps, then under the Cheka's successor organization the NKVD, had several million inmates. The prisoners included murderers, thieves, and other common criminals, along with political and religious dissenters. The Gulag camps made significant contributions to the Soviet economy during the rule of Stalin. Conditions in the camps were extremely harsh. After Stalin died in 1953, the population of the camps was reduced significantly, and conditions for the inmates improved somewhat.

15 Great Patriotic War

On 22nd June 1941 at 5 o'clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War. The German blitzkrieg, known as Operation Barbarossa, nearly succeeded in breaking the Soviet Union in the months that followed. Caught unprepared, the Soviet forces lost whole armies and vast quantities of equipment to the German onslaught in the first weeks of the war. By November 1941 the German army had seized the Ukrainian Republic, besieged Leningrad, the Soviet Union's second largest city, and threatened Moscow itself. The war ended for the Soviet Union on 9th May 1945.

16 Card system

The food card system regulating the distribution of food and industrial products was introduced in the USSR in 1929 due to extreme deficit of consumer goods and food. The system was cancelled in 1931. In 1941, food cards were reintroduced to keep records, distribute and regulate food supplies to the population. The card system covered main food products such as bread, meat, oil, sugar, salt, cereals, etc. The rations varied depending on which social group one belonged to, and what kind of work one did. Workers in the heavy industry and defense enterprises received a daily ration of 800 g (miners - 1 kg) of bread per person; workers in other industries 600 g. Non-manual workers received 400 or 500 g based on the significance of their enterprise, and children 400 g. However, the card system only covered industrial workers and residents of towns while villagers never had any provisions of this kind. The card system was cancelled in 1947.

17 Estonian Rifle Corps

Military unit established in late 1941 as a part of the Soviet Army. The Corps was made up of two rifle divisions. Those signed up for the Estonian Corps by military enlistment offices were ethnic Estonians regardless of their residence within the Soviet Union as well as men of call-up age residing in Estonia before the Soviet occupation (1940). The Corps took part in the bloody battle of Velikiye Luki (December 1942 - January 1943), where it suffered great losses and was sent to the back areas for re-formation and training. In the summer of 1944, the Corps took part in the liberation of Estonia and in March 1945 in the actions on Latvian territory. In 1946, the Corps was disbanded.

18 All-Union pioneer organization

A communist organization for teenagers between 10 and 15 years old (cf: boy-/ girlscouts in the US). The organization aimed at educating the young generation in accordance with the communist ideals, preparing pioneers to become members of the Komsomol and later the Communist Party. In the Soviet Union, all teenagers were pioneers.

19 Komsomol

Communist youth political organization created in 1918. The task of the Komsomol was to spread the ideas of communism and involve the worker and peasant youth in building the Soviet Union. The Komsomol also aimed at giving a communist upbringing by involving the worker youth in the political struggle, supplemented by theoretical education. The Komsomol was more popular than the Communist Party because with its aim of education people could accept uninitiated young proletarians, whereas party members had to have at least a minimal political qualification.

20 Campaign against 'cosmopolitans'

The campaign against 'cosmopolitans', i.e. Jews, was initiated in articles in the central organs of the Communist Party in 1949. The campaign was directed primarily at the Jewish intelligentsia and it was the first public attack on Soviet Jews as Jews. 'Cosmopolitans' writers were accused of hating the Russian people, of supporting Zionism, etc. Many Yiddish writers as well as the leaders of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee were arrested in November 1948 on charges that they maintained ties with Zionism and with American 'imperialism'. They were executed secretly in 1952. The anti-Semitic Doctors' Plot was launched in January 1953. A wave of anti-Semitism spread through the USSR. Jews were removed from their positions, and rumors of an imminent mass deportation of Jews to the eastern part of the USSR began to spread. Stalin's death in March 1953 put an end to the campaign against 'cosmopolitans.'

21 Collectivization in the USSR

In the late 1920s - early 1930s private farms were liquidated and collective farms established by force on a mass scale in the USSR. Many peasants were arrested during this process. As a result of the collectivization, the number of farmers and the amount of agricultural production was greatly reduced and famine struck in the Ukraine, the Northern Caucasus, the Volga and other regions in 1932-33.

22 Kolkhoz

In the Soviet Union the policy of gradual and voluntary collectivization of agriculture was adopted in 1927 to encourage food production while freeing labor and capital for industrial development. In 1929, with only 4% of farms in kolkhozes, Stalin ordered the confiscation of peasants' land, tools, and animals; the kolkhoz replaced the family farm.

23 Doctors' Plot

The Doctors' Plot was an alleged conspiracy of a group of Moscow doctors to murder leading government and party officials. In January 1953, the Soviet press reported that nine doctors, six of whom were Jewish, had been arrested and confessed their guilt. As Stalin died in March 1953, the trial never took place. The official paper of the Party, the Pravda, later announced that the charges against the doctors were false and their confessions obtained by torture. This case was one of the worst anti-Semitic incidents during Stalin's reign. In his secret speech at the Twentieth Party Congress in 1956 Khrushchev stated that Stalin wanted to use the Plot to purge the top Soviet leadership.

24 Rehabilitation in the Soviet Union

Many people who had been arrested, disappeared or killed during the Stalinist era were rehabilitated after the 20th Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in 1956, where Khrushchev publicly debunked the cult of Stalin and lifted the veil of secrecy from what had happened in the USSR during Stalin's leadership. It was only after the official rehabilitation that people learnt for the first time what had happened to their relatives as information on arrested people had not been disclosed before.

25 Twentieth Party Congress

At the Twentieth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in 1956 Khrushchev publicly debunked the cult of Stalin and lifted the veil of secrecy from what had happened in the USSR during Stalin's leadership.

26 Khrushchev, Nikita (1894-1971)

Soviet communist leader. After Stalin's death in 1953, he became first secretary of the Central Committee, in effect the head of the Communist Party of the USSR. In 1956, during the 20th Party Congress, Khrushchev took an unprecedented step and denounced Stalin and his methods. He was deposed as premier and party head in October 1964. In 1966 he was dropped from the Party's Central Committee.

27 German Invasion of Poland

The German attack of Poland on 1st September 1939 is widely considered the date in the West for the start of World War II. After having gained both Austria and the Bohemian and Moravian parts of Czechoslovakia, Hitler was confident that he could acquire Poland without having to fight Britain and France. (To eliminate the possibility of the Soviet Union fighting if Poland were attacked, Hitler made a pact with the Soviet Union, the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact.) On the morning of 1st September 1939, German troops entered Poland. The German air attack hit so quickly that most of Poland's air force was destroyed while still on the ground. To hinder Polish mobilization, the Germans bombed bridges and roads. Groups of marching soldiers were machine-gunned from the air, and they also aimed at civilians. On 1st September, the beginning of the attack, Great Britain and France sent Hitler an ultimatum - withdraw German forces from Poland or Great Britain and France would go to war against Germany. On 3rd September, with Germany's forces penetrating deeper into Poland, Great Britain and France both declared war on Germany.

28 Chechen War

After the communist Soviet Union disintegrated in 1991 Armenia, Azerbaijan and Georgia declared their independence. The autonomous territories immediately north of these new nations remained part of the new Russian State, though their populations largely were not Russian. Several of these ethnic groups began agitating for more autonomy from Moscow or for outright independence. The conflict in Russia's South Caucasus region (Chechnya, Dagestan, Ossetia, Ingushetia) began quickly. After the first Chechen War (1994-96) Chechens claimed victory and independence, and the Russian government claimed victory and the retention of Chechnya as a part of Russia. Clashes along the border continued as several Chechen rebel leaders and groups continued to harass the Russians in nearby areas. One such area is Dagestan, another, largely Muslim, region of southern Russia. During the Dagestan Campaign, Russia suffered several terrorist attacks in cities throughout the nation. Using this as an excuse to continue the Dagestan Campaign into Chechnya proved quite popular with Russian voters. After Yeltsin's retirement, Acting President Vladimir Putin won the March 2000 election largely on the strength of his continuing war against the Chechens and Islamic 'terrorists.'

29 Bolsheviks

Members of the movement led by Lenin. The name 'Bolshevik' was coined in 1903 and denoted the group that emerged in elections to the key bodies in the Social Democratic Party (SDPRR) considering itself in the majority (Rus. bolshynstvo) within the party. It dubbed its opponents the minority (Rus. menshynstvo, the Mensheviks). Until 1906 the two groups formed one party. The Bolsheviks first gained popularity and support in society during the 1905-07 Revolution. During the February Revolution in 1917 the Bolsheviks were initially in the opposition to the Menshevik and SR ('Sotsialrevolyutsionyery', Socialist Revolutionaries) delegates who controlled the Soviets (councils). When Lenin returned from emigration (16th April) they proclaimed his program of action (the April theses) and under the slogan 'All power to the Soviets' began to Bolshevize the Soviets and prepare for a proletariat revolution. Agitation proceeded on a vast scale, especially in the army. The Bolsheviks set about creating their own armed forces, the Red Guard. Having overthrown the Provisional Government, they created a government with the support of the II Congress of Soviets (the October Revolution), to which they admitted some left-wing SRs in order to gain the support of the peasantry. In 1952 the Bolshevik party was renamed the Communist Party of the Soviet Union.

30 Estonian Legion

In spring 1944 approx. 32,000 people were mobilized in the German army. There were 7 frontier regiments and the Estonian 20th division called Estonian legion, consisting of 15,000 people, drafted for military actions. In August 1944 young people born in 1926 were mobilized and they were mostly enrolled in the 20th division. 3,000 young people, 16 to 17 years old were mobilized for accessory service in aviation. In 1944 approx. 38,000 in total were mobilized in the German army.

31 Balfour Declaration

British foreign minister Lord Balfour published a declaration in 1917, which in principle supported the establishment of a Jewish homeland in Palestine. At the beginning, the British supported the idea of a Jewish national home, but under the growing pressure from the Arab world, they started restricting Jewish immigration to Palestine. However, underground Jewish organizations provided support for the illegal immigration of Jews. In 1947 the United Nations voted to allow the establishment of a Jewish state and the State of Israel was proclaimed in May 1948.

32 Lotman, Yuri (1922-1993)

One of the greatest semioticians and literary scholars. In 1950 he received his degree from the Philology Department of Leningrad University but was unable to continue with his post- graduate studies as a result of the campaign against 'cosmopolitans' and the wave of anti-Semitism in the Soviet Union. Lotman managed to find a job in Tartu, Estonia. Starting in 1950, he taught Russian literature at Tartu University, and from 1960-77 he was the head of the Department of Russian Literature. He did active research work and is the author of over 800 books and academic articles on the history of Russian literature and public thought, on literary theory, on the history of Russian culture, and on semiotics. He was an elected member of the British Royal Society, Norwegian Royal Academy, and many other academic societies.

33 Six-Day-War

(Hebrew: Milhemet Sheshet Hayamim), also known as the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, Six Days War, or June War, was fought between Israel and its Arab neighbors Egypt, Jordan, and Syria. It began when Israel launched a preemptive war on its Arab neighbors; by its end Israel controlled the Gaza Strip, the Sinai Peninsula, the West Bank, and the Golan Heights. The results of the war affect the geopolitics of the region to this day.

34 Yom Kippur War

(Hebrew: Milchemet Yom HaKipurim), also known as the October War, the 1973 Arab-Israeli War, and the Ramadan War, was fought from 6th October (the day of Yom Kippur) to 24th October 1973, between Israel and a coalition of Egypt and Syria. The war began when Egypt and Syria launched a surprise joint attack in the Sinai and Golan Heights, respectively, both of which had been captured by Israel during the Six-Day- War six years earlier. The war had far-reaching implications for many nations. The Arab world, which had been humiliated by the lopsided defeat of the Egyptian-Syrian-Jordanian alliance during the Six-Day-War, felt psychologically vindicated by its string of victories early in the conflict. This vindication, in many ways, cleared the way for the peace process which followed the war. The Camp David Accords, which came soon after, led to normalized relations between Egypt and Israel - the first time any Arab country had recognized the Israeli state. Egypt, which had already been drifting away from the Soviet Union, then left the Soviet sphere of influence almost entirely.

35 Perestroika (Russian for restructuring)

Soviet economic and social policy of the late 1980s, associated with the name of Soviet politician Mikhail Gorbachev. The term designated the attempts to transform the stagnant, inefficient command economy of the Soviet Union into a decentralized, market-oriented economy. Industrial managers and local government and party officials were granted greater autonomy, and open elections were introduced in an attempt to democratize the Communist Party organization. By 1991, perestroika was declining and was soon eclipsed by the dissolution of the USSR.

36 Iron Curtain

A term popularized by Sir Winston Churchill in a speech in 1946. He used it to designate the Soviet Union's consolidation of its grip over Eastern Europe. The phrase denoted the separation of East and West during the Cold War, which placed the totalitarian states of the Soviet bloc behind an 'Iron Curtain'. The fall of the Iron Curtain corresponds to the period of perestroika in the former Soviet Union, the reunification of Germany, and the democratization of Eastern Europe beginning in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

37 Tallinn Jewish Gymnasium

During the Soviet period, the building hosted Vocational School #1. In 1990, the school building was restored to the Jewish community of Estonia; it is now home to the Tallinn Jewish School.

38 WIZO

Women's International Zionist Organization, founded in London in 1920 with humanitarian purposes aiming at supporting Jewish women all over the world in the field of education, economics, science and culture. A network of health, social and educational institutions was created in Palestine between 1921 and 1933, along with numerous local groups worldwide. After WWII its office was moved to Tel Aviv. WIZO became an advisory organ to the UN after WWII (similar to UNICEF or ECOSOC). Today it operates on a voluntary basis, as a party-neutral, non-profit organization, with about 250,000 members in 50 countries (2003).

39 Aba Gomer (?-1941)

Born in Belostok, Poland, and graduated from the Department of Philosophy of Bonn University. He lived in Tallinn from 1927 and was the chief rabbi of Estonia. In 1941, he was determined not to go into Soviet back areas and remained on the German-occupied territory. He was killed by Nazis in the fall of 1941.

40 Reestablishment of the Estonian Republic

According to the referendum conducted in the Baltic Republics in March 1991, 77.8 percent of participating Estonian residents supported the restoration of Estonian state independence. On 20th August 1991, at the time of the coup attempt in Moscow, the Estonian Republic's Supreme Council issued the Decree of Estonian Independence. On 6th September 1991, the USSR's State Council recognized full independence of Estonia, and the country was accepted into the UN on 17th September 1991.

41 Gorbachev, Mikhail (1931- )

Soviet political leader. Gorbachev joined the Communist Party in 1952 and gradually moved up in the party hierarchy. In 1970 he was elected to the Supreme Soviet of the USSR, where he remained until 1990. In 1980 he joined the politburo, and in 1985 he was appointed general secretary of the party. In 1986 he embarked on a comprehensive program of political, economic, and social liberalization under the slogans of glasnost (openness) and perestroika (restructuring). The government released political prisoners, allowed increased emigration, attacked corruption, and encouraged the critical reexamination of Soviet history. The Congress of People's Deputies, founded in 1989, voted to end the Communist Party's control over the government and elected Gorbachev executive president. Gorbachev dissolved the Communist Party and granted the Baltic states independence. Following the establishment of the Commonwealth of Independent States in 1991, he resigned as president. Since 1992, Gorbachev has headed international organizations.

42 1991 Moscow coup d'etat

Starting spontaneously on the streets of Moscow, its leaders went public on 19th August. TASS (Soviet Telegraphical Agency) made an announcement that Gorbachev had been relieved of his duties for health reasons. His powers were assumed by Vice President Gennady Yanayev. A State Committee on the State of Emergency (GKChP) was established, led by eight officials, including KGB head Vladimir Kryuchkov, Soviet Prime Minister Valentin Pavlov, and Defense Minister Dmitry Yazov. Seizing on President Mikhail Gorbachev's summer absence from the capital, eight of the Soviet leader's most trusted ministers attempted to take control of the government. Within three days, the poorly planned coup collapsed and Gorbachev returned to the Kremlin. But an era had abruptly ended. The Soviet Union, which the coup plotters had desperately tried to save, was dead.

43 Tchaikovsky, Peter Ilyich (1840-1893)

One of the most famous Russian composers. He wrote operas, concertos, symphonies, songs and short piano pieces, ballets, string quartets, suites and symphonic poems, and numerous other works. Tchaikovsky was opposed to the aims of the Russian nationalist composers and used Western European forms and idioms, although his work instinctively reflects the Russian temperament. His orchestration is rich, and his music is melodious, intensely emotional, and often melancholy. Among his best known works are the Swan Lake (1877) and The Nutcracker (1892).

Marianne Wallisch

Mag. Marianne Wallisch
Wien, Österreich
Interviewer: Artur Schnarch
September 2002

Marianne Wallisch empfängt mich in ihrem Haus, welches in Döbling liegt, sehr herzlich und trägt mir schon nach Kurzem das Du an. Sie ist von zierlicher Gestalt und ihre Züge und die kurzen Haare tragen zu ihrer jugendlichen Ausstrahlung bei. Die von ihr selbst gemachten Keramiken, welche überall im Haus anzutreffen sind, vermitteln, dass hier ein frei denkender kultureller Mensch wohnt. Im Gespräch hat Marianne mit viel Geduld und vielen Details ein Bild ihres Lebens gezeichnet.

Meine Familiengeschichte
Während des Krieges
Nach dem Krieg
Meine Zeit in Stockholm
Rückkehr nach Wien

Meine Familiengeschichte

Ich wurde am 11. Juli 1933, als Marianne Wallisch, in Budapest geboren. Mein Vater Oskar Wallisch war damals schon 48 Jahre alt und meine Muttter Antonia Wallisch war auch schon 38 Jahre alt. Ich war also ein spätes Einzelkind.

Meine Eltern waren beide Österreicher und ich wuchs mit ihnen und der Mutter meiner Mutter Hermine Neumann in Buda nahe der Magaretenbrücke auf. Es war sehr schön dort, ich konnte vom Fenster aus den Schiffen auf der Donau nachschauen. Zu Hause wurde nur Deutsch gesprochen, da ausser meiner Mutter und mir eh niemand Ungarisch konnte.

Die einzige Verwandte, die ich noch kennengelernt habe war meine Großmutter mütterlicherseits Hermine Neumann. Diese wurde 1863 in Malacka in der Nähe von Pressburg (Bratislava) als Hermine Weiss geboren. Ihre Eltern Leopold und Cäcilie Weiss haben dort in der Gegend Schafhandel betrieben.

Meine Großmutter hat dann meinen Großvater Leopold Neumann geheiratet. Dieser war aus Simmering bei Wien. Er arbeitete als Geschäftsführer bei der Firma Neumann in einem großen Warenhaus für Bekleidung und Stoffe auf der Kärntnerstraße. Mein Großvater starb 1899 als meine Mutter Antonia, die 1895 geboren wurde, erst 4 jahre alt war an Tubercolose.

Das war dann sehr schwer für meine Großmutter, sie hatte 4 Kinder Henriette, Karl, Adele und Antonia zu versorgen und musste auch irgendwie arbeiten gehen.

Meine Mutter kam dann um meine Großmutter ein bischen zu entlasten in Wien in das jüdische Waisenhaus. Henriette und Karl gingen in die Schule und Adele die jüngste verstarb schon früh an einer Grippe.

Henriette, welche die Älteste war hat dann eine Anstellung als Chefsekretärin in Budapest bekommen. Da ist dann meine Großmutter mit dem jüngeren Karl auch nach Budapest übersiedelt. Meine Mutter Antonia musste in Wien bleiben bis sie die Matura fertig gemacht hat. Diese Übersiedlung war knapp vor dem 1. Weltkrieg im Jahre 1912.

Karl hat dann eine Anstellung bei der Speditionsfirma Blum und Popper in Budapest gefunden und hat sich mit Etusch verehelicht.

Henriette und Karl sind beide noch vor meiner Geburt an irgendwelchen Krankheiten gestorben und meiner Großmutter ist nur meine Mutter geblieben. Meine Großmutter war böse mit G’tt, weil er ihr 3 Kinder genommen hat. Sie ist nie in die Synagoge gegangen, hat aber immer alle Jahrzeiten genau eingehalten und manchmal Freitag Abend Kerzen gezündet. Sie starb 1942 als ich 9 jahre alt war.

Väterlicherseits kommt die Familie aus Schafa in Tschechien. Der Großvater Daniel Wallisch war als Pferdehändler tätig und mit Rosa, die eine geborene Funk war, verheiratet. Sie hatten 5 Kinder Emil, Max, Artur, Irma und den Jüngsten meinen Vater Oskar.

Mein Vater Oskar Wallisch wurde 1885 geboren und ist dann immer in das Gymnasium nach Hollabrunn hereingependelt. Nach dem Tod des Großvaters Daniel Wallisch ist Rosa mit den Kindern nach Wien übersiedelt.

Die Geschwister meines Vaters wurden bis auf Max alle von den Deutschen deportiert und ermordet. Emil Wallisch, Artur Wallisch, Irma Raubitschek mit ihrem Mann Richard, sie sind alle nicht mehr zurückgekehrt.

Max hat Hedwig eine Christin geheiratet und hat so überlebt. Sie hatten einen Sohn Fritz und eine Tochter Grete. Grete hat zwei Kinder Eva und Walter, und Fritz einen Sohn den Kurt. Eva und Kurt leben noch und ich habe zu Eva einen losen Kontakt.

Nach der Matura hat mein Vater gleich bei der internationalen Spedition Blum und Popper zu arbeiten begonnen. Das war eine jüdische Firma mit Zentrale in Hamburg und Niederlassungen in Wien, Budapest, Triest, Zagreb, Subotica, Novi Sad, Belgrad und einige andere. Hans Blum war der Chef meines Vaters in Hamburg.

1933 als mein Vater sah was da auf uns zukommt, hat er die Blums gedrängt Deutschland zu verlassen. Diese wollten aber nicht. Mein Vater hat dann in den jugoslawischen Niederlassungen ziemlich viel Geld unterschlagen und dieses nach England gebracht. Dort wurde für die Blums ein Haus gebaut, wohin diese sich dann gerettet haben. Hans ist schon gestorben aber sein Sohn Edgar und weitere Nachkommen leben bis heute in England.

Dann begann der Erste Weltkrieg und mein Vater wurde eingezogen und hat es bis zum Oberstleutnant gebracht. Danach ist er wieder zu Blum und Popper zurückgegangen.

1922 wurde mein Vater nach Budapest geschickt um die dortige Niederlassung von Blum und Popper zu überprüfen. In Budapest arbeitete damals ja der Bruder meiner Mutter Karl Neumann und dieser organisierte, dass mein Vater bei seiner Mutter Hermine Neumann für die Zeit der Überprüfung wohnen konnte. So hat mein Vater meine Mutter kennengelernt.

Mein Vater wurde dann zum Niederlassungsleiter für Budapest bestellt und nach 10 Jahren als ich passierte hat er meine Mutter Antonia Neumann geheiratet.

Im Büro in Budapest hatte mein Vater 25 bis 30 Angestellte. Jeder konnte Deutsch und mein Vater konnte kein Wort Ungarisch. Ausserdem musste mein Vater immer nach Jugoslavien reisen, um die dortigen Niederlassungen in Beograd, Zagreb, Subortica und Novi Sad zu betreuen. Später konnte er nicht mehr nach Jugoslawien reisen, da er wegen der Unterschlagungen für die Blums dort zum Tode verurteilt worden war.


Während des Krieges

Trotz des rein jüdischen Freundeskreises meiner Eltern war von Judentum nicht viel zu bemerken. Es wurde weder Jom Kippur noch sonst ein Feiertag eingehalten. Mein Vater und meine Großmutter gingen überhaupt nie in die Synagoge, nur meine Mutter ist mit mir hie und da Freitag Abend hingegangen. Zu Jom Kippur haben meine Freundinnen und ich immer die Kühlschränke der Eltern, die in der Synagoge waren, geplündert.

Ich ging nie in den Kindergarten und war dann ab 1938 oder 1939 in der Englisch-Ungarischen Schule. 1943 kam ich, da keine andere Schule mehr möglich war, ins jüdische Gymnasium. Dieses war ein normales ungarisches Gymnasium mit jüdischen Religionsunterricht. Die Schule wurde von der Kultusgemeinde betrieben und es gab ein Hauptgymnasium und eine Niederlassung. Ich ging in die Niederlassung, weil diese bei uns in der Nähe war. Mädchen und Buben waren getrennt glaube ich. Auf jeden fall waren wir nur Mädchen in der Schule. Ich war aber nur ein Jahr in der Schule, weil als 1944 die Deutschen die Verwaltung übernahmen war es mit der Schule bis zur Befreiung im Jänner 1945 erst ein Mal vorbei.

Als am 19. März 1944 die Deutschen einmarschierten mussten wir recht bald unsere Wohnung räumen. Der Judenrat hat in der Hoffnung das Los etwas mildern zu können teilweise mit den Deutschen kollaboriert und als wir die Wohnung verloren haben, da ging das irgendwie über den Judenrat.

Wir sind dann erst zu einer jüdischen Familie einen Stock höher gezogen und als wir dort auch wegmussten, sind wir zu einem Buchhalter meines Vaters gezogen, der auch Jude war und in einem sogenannten Judenhaus wohnte. Da haben wir dann drei Familien in einer Zwei-Zimmer-Wohnung gelebt.

Im Sommer 1944 nach dem Hitlerattentat, haben die ungarischen Pfeikreuzler, den Reichsverweser Horty gestürzt und ihr grausames Regime begonnen. Diese waren viel ärger und brutaler als die Deutschen vorher. Da haben dann auch die Deportationen im großen Stil begonnen. Viele wurden erst ein Mal in einer Ziegelfabrik gesammelt.

Mein Vater ist mit unseren Deutschen Pässen mit dem großen „J“ drinnen immer irgendwie durchgeschlüpft. Aber trotzdem konnten wir in dem Judenhaus nicht weiterbleiben. Ich wurde noch griechisch-orthodox getauft, weil wir geglaubt haben das könnte helfen und bei den orthodoxen ging es am einfachsten. Hat auch nicht viel genutzt.

Eine unserer Mitbewohnerinnen eine Ärztin hat uns Schwedische Schutzpässe besorgt. Und so konnten wir in ein schwedisch geschütztes Haus gehen. Dort waren wir 10 Familien in einer Drei-Zimmer-Wohnung und frühere Angestellte meines Vaters haben uns mit Essen versorgt.
Wir mussten dann in ein anderes schwedisch geschütztes Haus übersiedeln. Dort bekamen wir eine kleine Garcioniere für uns alleine, was natürlich ein Hit war.

Am Weihnachtsabend 1944 hat dann die russische Belagerung begonnen und hat bis Ende Jänner gedauert. Wir haben fast die ganzen 6 Wochen der Belagerung im Keller verbracht. Die Deutschen waren noch in Buda und die Russen in Pest. Es wurde ohne Unterlass hin und her geschossen.

Es wurden auch noch zu dieser Zeit die Bewohner ganzer Häuser von den Pfeilkreuzlern und Deutschen abtransportiert. Wir wären auch bald dran gewesen. Mein Vater war im Hof draussen gewesen und kam in den Keller hinunter und sagte uns wir sollen ganz still sein er glaubt er habe Russisch reden gehört. Das war dann irgendwann Ende Jänner der Tag der Befreiung. Wir haben erst nicht gewusst wo wir hin sollen und hatten auch nichts zu Essen. Das Rote Kreuz kam jeden Tag und hat uns mit etwas Suppe versorgt, in der ein paar Bohnen geschwommen sind. Hans Blum hat uns bereits über das Rote Kreuz suchen lassen und so dann auch Kontakt mit uns aufgenommen. Wir sind dann erst ein Mal noch zurück in unsere alte Wohnung, aber es war fast alles weg. Wir haben ja das Meiste nicht mitnehmen können und da war jetzt natürlich nichts mehr da.

Nach dem Krieg

Mein Vater hat dann wieder die Zweigstelle der Spedition Blum & Popper aufgebaut und bis zur Verstaatlichung im Jahre 1948 geführt. Nach der Verstaatlichung sind meine Eltern dann nach Wien übersiedelt und mein Vater hat weiterhin für den Blum Speditionsgeschäfte gemacht.

Ich bin weiterhin ins jüdische Gymnasium gegangen. Dieses befand sich erst in einer Wohnung und wieder im selben Gebäude wie vorher. Da hatte ich als Religionslehrer Akiba Eisenberg, den späteren Oberrabbiner von Wien. Im Shomer Hazair (jüdische Jugendbewegung) war ich auch mit meinen Freundinnen sehr aktiv und wurde auch zur Madricha (Gruppenleiterin) ernannt.

Als meine Eltern nach Wien übersiedelt sind bin ich natürlich mitgegangen, ich war ja erst 15 Jahre alt. Hier habe ich auch noch erst in einem kleinen Zimmer in der Seitenstättengasse und dann in der Alserstraße 18 am jüdischen Religionsunterricht teilgenommen.

In Wien war ich auch im Shomer Hazair (jüdische Jugendbewegung) aktiv. Es gab ja eigentlich noch gar keinen Shomer Hazair in Wien. Es war so, dass ein paar Wiener Jugendliche, wie zum Beispiel Arie Talmi, der aus Israel zurückgekehrt war, Tadek, Gyuszi Ladstein und einige polnische Shomerniks Alles ins Rollen gebracht haben. Wir haben dann ein Zimmer in der Seitenstättengasse als Vereinslokal bekommen und in der Folge wurden Hazia Kolben mit ihrem Mann Zwi als Shlichim nach Wien geschickt.

Von da an hatten wir ein organisiertes und regelmäßiges Vereinsleben. Ich wurde dann Madricha (Gruppenleiterin) der Kwuza Avoda/Lahav und war sehr engagiert. Wir fuhren auch immer wieder auf Machanot (Sommerlager) ins Reichenau/Rax Gebiet.

Mein Ausscheiden aus dem Schomer kam als ich 17 ein halb war und war mit einem sehr tragischen Ereignis verbunden.

Bei einer Bar Mizwa Feier habe ich die um zwei Jahre jüngere Eva Javor kennengelernt. Wir haben uns sehr gut verstanden und ich habe sie für den Shomer geworben. Sie war dann auch in meiner Kwuza. Hava, so nannten wir Eva beim Shomer kam aus Ungarn und konnte nur wenig Deutsch und hatte auch noch keine Freunde in Wien. Sie war sehr glücklich beim Shomer hatte sich aber allgemein in Wien nicht eingelebt. Im November 1950 hat Hava Selbstmord begangen indem sie aus dem Fenster der elterlichen Wohnung sprang. Das hat mich mit meinen 17 Jahren schwer getroffen und ich war verzweifelt und voller Selbstvorwürfe.

Ungefähr eine Woche nach Evas Tod haben mir zwei ungefähr 11 jährige Buben ein Foto von Eva gebracht und sind gleich weggelaufen. Auf dem Foto stand „Vergisst mich nicht!! Hava 3.X. 1950“. Bis heute weiß ich nicht wer mir dieses Foto geschickt hat.

In der Folge habe ich mich aus dem Shomer so ziemlich zurückgezogen. Beim Begräbnis hat Herr Kostia der neue Schaliach des Shomers in seiner Rede mich direkt wegen meines Rückzuges angegriffen, worauf ich dann überhaupt jeglichen Kontakt zum Shomer und auch zu den Shomerniks abgebrochen habe. 

Das erste halbe Jahr war ich in Wien im Gymnasium in der Billrothstraße. Ich hätte allerdings alle Prüfungen ab dem ersten Gymnasium nachmachen müssen. Dies habe ich verweigert und habe die Aufnahmeprüfung für die Akademie für angewandte Kunst gemacht. Ich wurde als Nicht-Hochschülerin angenommen und habe nebenbei die Fächer, die ich für die Studienberechtigung gebraucht habe nachgemacht. Nach zwei Jahren wurde mein Status auf ordentlicher Hörer geändert. Die Akademie habe ich mit dem Titel „Akademische Keramikerin“  abgeschlossen. Da war ich erst 21 Jahre alt. Als die Akademie in eine Hochschule umgewandelt wurde, bekam ich den Titel Magister verliehen.

Meine Zeit in Stockholm

Mein Professor an der Akademie hat mir gleich nach meinem Abschluss ein Atelier in Stockholm organisiert wo ich arbeiten und mich weiterentwickeln konnte. So bin ich 1954 erst ein Mal für ein paar Monate nach Schweden gegangen.

Ich bin mit einer Freundin die Ärztin ist hingefahren und sie hat die Telefonnummer von einem Österreicher der dort lebt und arbeitet und falls wir etwas brauchen können wir ihn anrufen. Ich war schwer dagegen mich bei einem Wildfremden zu melden. Nur war es dann so, dass wir als wir ankamen nicht wo zu schlafen hatten und so haben haben wir uns bei Kurt gemeldet und haben ihn kennengelernt.

Nun den, ich bin nicht ein paar Monate, sondern 3 Jahre geblieben. Kurt hat hat schon ein paar Jahre in Schweden gelebt und bei einer Maschinenfabrik gearbeitet. Wir haben in Schweden ganz ohne Familie geheiratet und ich bin auch dort mit Thomas schwanger geworden. Zwei Tage vor der Geburt im August 1958 bin ich nach Wien zurückgekommen.

Rückkehr nach Wien

Kurt kam dann auch zurück und hat hier ganz klein mit einem Kompagnon eine Handelsfirma für Kunststoff –und Werkzeugmaschinen aufgemacht. Diese kamen erst hauptsächlich aus Schweden und später auch aus Taiwan, Japan und England.

Wir haben in einer kleinen Wohnung in der Windmühlgasse gewohnt und als dann 1962 Stefan geboren wurde, haben wir die Wohnung meiner Eltern auf der Rossauer Lände übernommen und diese sind nach Schönbrunn übersiedelt.

Mein Vater war immer sehr stark antizionistisch eingestellt und wollte nie, dass ich nach Israel fahre. Als meine Söhne geboren wurden hat er sich vehement dafür eingestzt, dass sie getauft werden. Er hat immer gesagt: „Wir leben hier und wollen keine Aussenseiter sein“. Meine Söhne sind sobald sie das selbst entscheiden konnten ausgetretten. Jüdisches Interesse ist beim älteren Thomas kaum da. Der jüngere Stefan fühlt sich da schon eher verbunden.

Thomas hat sein Wirtschaftsstudium nicht beendet und arbeitet jetzt bei Jugend am Werk mit behinderten Kindern und Jugendlichen. Er war mit Eva verheiratet und ich habe mit Anna, Jan und Maja 3 Enkeln von ihm.

Stefan hat auf der Akademie der Bildenden Künsten das Lehramt fertiggemacht und schreibt Kinderbücher. Er hat eine Tochter Fanny.

Sobald die Kinder da waren habe ich leider aufgehört zu Arbeiten und war nur mehr Mami. Ich habe dann später unentgeltlich mit behinderten Kindern gearbeitet und in spätern Jahren auch wieder Ausstellungen organisiert und mir in unserem Haus eine Werkstatt eingerichtet. Es gibt jetzt leider keine einzige Galerie für Keramik in Wien  und es so ist sehr schwer die Produkte an den Mann zu bringen.
    

Katalin Kallos Havas

Életrajz

Kallos Katalin férjével él együtt egy négy éve vásárolt házban Kolozsvár Györgyfalvi negyedében. A ház szobáit pipa illata lengi be. A férje kedvenc időtöltése a pipázás. A pipaillat, a dolgozószoba régi könyvei és az új típusú számítógép egészen különleges hangulatot árasztanak. Katalin nyugdíjas napjait főleg otthon tölti, néha bejár a hitközséghez, hogy találkozzon a barátaival. Ha otthon van, általában olvas, vagy az udvaron nyíló virágokat gondozza. Katalinnak kedves, jóságos természete van és előrehaladott kora ellenére szellemileg igen friss. A Holokausztot megelőző időszakra viszont csak szelektíven emlékszik. Csak emlékfoszlányai vannak a családjáról, gyermekkoráról, bevallása szerint azért, mert hazatérve a deportálásból új életet akart kezdeni. El akarta felejteni a múltját, ami elvesztett szeretteire emlékeztette.

Az anyai nagyanyám (akinek a nevére nem emlékszem) felső-magyarországi, trencsénteplicei volt, ott főleg neológok éltek. Az első világháború előtt költöztek Désre, nagyapámmal (neki sem emlékszem a nevére), a gyermekeik már itt születtek. Az anyai nagyszülők a neológokhoz tartoztak, megtartották a nagyünnepeket, eljártak templomba, de nem voltak vallásos emberek. Nem volt kóser háztartásuk sem. Modern felfogásuk volt az életről. A nagyszüleim közül egyedül az anyai nagyanyámat ismertem. Nagyanyám korán özvegyen maradt. Fel kellett nevelnie és férjhez adnia öt lányát, ami elég nehéz volt, mert azt csak hozománnyal lehetett. Férje halála után, nagyanyám üzletasszony lett, ami elég ritka volt abban az időben. Egy faraktárt tartott, amely az akkori törvényszékkel szemben volt. A munkások, akiket nagyanyám foglalkoztatott, keresztények voltak. A faraktár jövedelméből tartotta el a lányait és házasította ki őket. Persze, az vette el őket, aki beérte kevés hozománnyal. Házasságközvetítőn keresztül mentek férjhez a lányok, a szülők egyeztek meg. Az anyám és a húga voltak a legkisebbek, az ő házasságuk szerelmi házasság volt. Mindeniknek volt zsidó neve is, a zsidó nevüket viszont nem tudom.

Anyám legidősebb testvére, Elvira, Pestre ment férjhez. Egy gyermeke volt, Dénes, aki fiatalon öngyilkos lett. Elvira Auschwitzban pusztult el. Az utána kővetkező Irén, ő Brassóba ment férjhez, ami akkor Magyarország 1 volt. Irén és a férje, Grosz, jómódú emberek voltak. Brassó mellett, Kommandón egy Grödl nevű bárónak volt fakitermelése és fűrésztelepe. Grosz nagybátyám volt a báró munkavezetője és ők egész nyáron ott éltek, az év többi részét pedig Brassóban töltötték. Én gyerekkoromban a nyári vakációkat mindig Irén nagynénéméknél töltöttem Kommandón, életem legboldogabb élményei voltak azok. Ők sem tartották meg a vallásos ünnepeket. Az egész család nem volt vallásos. Volt két fiuk, Laci és Géza. Lacival és a menyével ment ki Irén nagynéném Izraelbe, miután a második világháború véget ért. Laci most Názáretben él. Géza Brassóban maradt, ő ott alapított családot. Irén 94 éves korában halt meg, az 1970-es évek elején. Anyám harmadik testvére, Sári, Jugoszláviába ment férjhez, az akkori Dél-Magyarországra 2. Azt tudom, hogy azok között voltak, akiket a magyarok belelőttek a Dunába 3. Volt két lányuk. A kisebbik, Lili, Olaszországba ment férjhez, még a második világháború előtt, és úgy menekült meg. A nagyobbikat, Editet, deportálták Auschwitzba, de hazajött. Férjhez ment egy Rosenberg nevű jugoszláviai zsidó fiúhoz és az 1940-es évek végén kivándoroltak Dél-Afrikába. Innen Izraelbe, majd Hollandiába költöztek. Edit férje építészmérnök volt és cukorgyárak építésére szakosodott. Édesanyám, Vilma volt a negyedik leány. 1896-ban született. Etus volt a legfiatalabb testvére anyámnak. Ő Désen ment férjhez, és kiment Amerikába 1918-19-ben.

Az apám szülei Désen születtek és ott is éltek. Csak annyit tudok róluk, hogy vallásosak voltak és bútorszállítással foglalkoztak, de még a keresztnevükre sem emlékszem. A családnevük Selig volt. Apámék haton voltak testvérek: öt fiú és egy lány. Apám, Havas Jenő, 1892-ben született. Ő, és az egyik testvére, Marci voltak azok, akik felvették a Havas családnevet. Mind a ketten az osztrák-magyar hadseregben szolgáltak és valószínűleg ott magyarosították a nevüket. Hogy pontosan mikor történt ez és miért, nem tudom. A többi testvér megmaradt Selig. A testvérek közül egyedül apám végzett főiskolát. Ő ügyvéd lett, a többiek csak középiskolát végeztek és kivétel nélkül szállítással foglalkoztak. A fiúk nem voltak vallásosak. Közülük az egyik Galacon, a másik Aradon, a harmadik Brailan élt. Csak ketten maradtak Désen: apám és az öccse, Marci. A legidősebb testvére, József, akit mi Jasszinak szólítottuk, egy ideig Désen élt a családjával. Ő már 1933-tól illegális kommunista volt és elég sokat ült börtönben. Olyankor a felesége, Edit és a gyermekei mindig nálunk laktak Désen, mert semmilyen más megélhetésük nem volt. A felesége egy kapjoni zsidó földbirtokos családból származott. Kapjon néhány kilométerre fekszik Kolozsvártól. A leányát Zsuzsinak hívták. Mivel apám ügyvéd volt, nagyon sokszor segített Jasszin és hozta ki a börtönből. Az 1930-as évek végén Galacra költöztek, majd a második világháború után Bukarestbe. Mint 1933-as párttagot 1945 körül kizárták a Kommunista Pártból. Csak halála után, az 1960-as években rehabilitálták, a leánya közbenjárására. Apám második testvére, Gyula, Aradon élt. A harmadik testvér, Bumi, Brailan élt. Ő apám után született, az 1890-es évek közepén. Neki a rendes nevét nem tudom és nem is emlékszem rá, mert nagyon hamar elköltöztek Désről és még a második világháború alatt meghalt. A feleségét talán Reginának hívták. Úgy tudom, nem voltak gyermekei. Apám másik öccse, Marci, az első világháborúban tüdőlövést kapott és nem sokkal később meghalt. Volt felesége és két fia. Az egyik fiát is Marcinak hívták. Apám nővére, Szeréna, egy vallásos emberhez ment férjhez és ő vallásos maradt. A férje, Surányi, szállítással foglalkozott. Nagy udvaruk volt, az udvaron szekerek, lovak voltak. Úgy emlékszem (de ez nem egy biztos dolog), hogy nagy szállító vagonjaik voltak, és az 1900-as évek elején a Mátyás szobrot  ők szállították Kolozsvárra. [Szerk. megj.: A kolozsvári Mátyás szoborcsoportot 1902-ben állították fel a város főterén. A Mátyás királyt és hadvezéreit ábrázoló alkotás Fadrusz János szobrászművész egyik legjelentősebb munkája.] Désen éltek, volt egy leányuk és egy fiuk. Az egész család odaveszett Auschwitzban.

1930 körül 3000 zsidó volt Désen. Több volt a neológ, mint az ortodox zsidó, volt külön neológ zsinagógájuk, több imaházuk is volt, de pontosan már nem emlékszem az arányokra. Désen volt egy zsidó terület a neológ templom körül, ahol általában a szegényebb zsidók éltek, akik bérelték a lakást. A jómódú zsidók a város különböző részein, szétszóródva laktak és saját házuk volt. Nekünk nem volt soha saját házunk, nem is tudom miért, de nem volt különösen fontos, hogy sajátunk legyen. Csak egy közös szőlősünk volt az apám leánytestvérével és az egyik öccsével a Bungurban, ahol 1944-ben a gettó is volt. Bungur tulajdonképpen egy erdő volt Dés határában. Az erdő közelében levő termőföldek és szőlősök róla kapták a nevüket. A gettót viszont az erdőben állították fel, a szabad ég alatt.

A szüleim soha nem meséltek a megismerkedésükről, a házasságukról. 1916-ban házasodtak össze, egy év múlva pedig megszületett a bátyám, György. Én 1922-ben születtem. A szüleim gyerekkoromban jómódú polgárok voltak. Az akkori polgári divat szerint öltözködtek, összejövetelekbe jártak, társadalmi életet éltek. Baráti társaságuk nagyon vegyes volt, nem számított ki zsidó, ki keresztény. Úgy emlékszem rájuk vissza, hogy mind a ketten nagyon szépek voltak. Apámat a családban úgy nevezték, hogy ‘a kacagó szemű’. Vidám, jó humorú ember volt. Nem voltak szigorúak a szüleim. Soha semmit nem tiltottak meg sem nekem, sem a bátyámnak. Egy nagyon szép szamosparti házban laktunk Désen. A családi házban nagy háztartás volt, vezetékes vízzel és villanyárammal. Mindenkinek volt külön szobája. A souterinben volt a mosókonyha meg a konyha és lifttel jött fel az ebédlőbe az étel. Volt a háznál szobalány, szakácsnő, és freulein, vagyis nevelőnő. A cselédek keresztények voltak, és ott laktak nálunk. Édesanyámnak az volt az elve, hogy a kenyérért meg kell dolgozni és ezért nekünk gyerekeknek volt bizonyos feladatunk a házban, holott lett volna, aki megcsinálja, de nekünk kellett megcsinálni. Port törültünk, segítettünk a ház körüli feladatokban, mi kellett rendet rakjunk a szekrényünkben.

Ötéves koromban már jól úsztam. Apám tanított meg úszni, úgy, hogy bedobott Désen a Szamos mély vizébe, oda ahol ő sem érte le az alját. Azt mondta, ‘na most gyere ki’, s kimentem. Rájöttem arra, hogy a víz fenntart engem, és megtanultam úszni. Nekem fiús természetem volt, sokat verekedtem. Ezért ‘Fiúpistának’ hívtak a családban. Volt egy unokabátyám, a Marci, apám Marci öccsének a fia, aki egy évvel idősebb volt nálam. Az örökké jött hozzánk és tőlünk mindig sírva ment el, mert én mindig megvertem.

A szüleim nem voltak vallásosak. Péntek este nem gyújtottunk gyertyát, nem volt kóser háztartásunk sem. A húsvéti Széder estét pedig apám lánytestvérénél töltöttük.

A családban magyarul beszéltünk. Magyar volt az anyanyelvünk és a kultúránk is. Egyik szülő sem beszélt jiddisül. Nagy könyvtárunk volt otthon. A szüleim sokat olvastak, de nem ők vezettek rá az olvasásra, hanem ott volt a könyvespolc és akkor olvastam. Nem volt vallásos könyvünk, csak szépirodalom. Én németül három éves koromban tanultam meg a freuleintól, aki egy Brassó környéki szász lány volt, és hét éves koromban ismertem a gót betűket. (A gót betűket ma már nem ismerem, csak egy párat.) Hét éves koromban már magyarul is olvastam és írtam. 11 éves korom óta rendszeresen olvasok, 13 éves koromban már [Emile] Zolát olvastam. A bátyám, György, mindent elolvasott ami a kezébe került. Tanult zongorázni, járt hozzá a házhoz magántanító. György szekrénye úgy nézett ki, mint egy kisasszonynak, minden a helyén volt. Ő volt a ‘bezzeg’ a családban, mert ő rendes volt. Engem viszont mindig korholtak a szüleim, mert én lány létemre nagyon rendetlen voltam. Sokáig rossz viszonyban voltunk a bátyámmal. 15 éves körül lehettem, amikor nagyon megbarátkoztunk. Nem volt titkunk egymás előtt. Ő világosított fel engemet nagyon sok mindenről. Ez a jó viszony később is megmaradt közöttünk, még az után is, amikor megnősült. A felesége haragudott is ezért, féltékeny volt rám. György nekem több mindent mondott el mint neki. A felesége, Rózsi, egy máramarosi származású zsidó lány volt, 1943-ban házasodtak össze. Rózsi ekkor még orvostanhallgató volt. Az esküvőjük egyszerű polgári esküvő volt, egyházi szertartás nélkül. Ünnepséget sem rendeztek utána.

Én román iskolába jártam, nem volt külön zsidó iskola Désen. Egy fiú- és egy leánygimnázium volt, jól felkészült tanárokkal. Az iskolában nem éreztették velünk, hogy zsidók vagyunk, pedig sok zsidó gyerek volt. Én nem éreztem azt, hogy lenéznek vagy másnak tartanak. A számtan volt a kedvenc tantárgyam, más nem is érdekelt, csak ami a számtannal összefüggött: fizika, kémia és a logika. Az iskolában megszervezték, hogy vittek minket színházba, hangversenyekre, moziba. Volt amikor behoztak minket Kolozsvárra a román operába. Az első opera, amire elvittek, az a Carmen volt. Én ekkor tizennégy éves voltam. Nem értettem, hogy mit énekelnek, de nekem egy újdonság volt és tetszett.

Velünk élt az anyai nagyanyám is az 1930-as évek elejéig. A gazdasági válság miatt egyre nehezebb volt a megélhetésünk. Apám ekkor bankigazgatói állásban volt egy dési banknál. A bank csődbe ment és vele együtt a mi vagyonunk jelentős része is odaveszett. Apám ekkor visszatért az ügyvédi pályához, de nem volt elég az, amit keresett. Ezért a nagyanyám úgy döntött, hogy Brassóba költözik a másik lányához, Irénhez. Én ekkor 8-9 éves lehettem. A nehézségek miatt sorra adogattuk el a házból az értékesebb dolgokat: bútorokat, porcelánokat, kristályokat. Ahogy nőtt a nincstelenség, úgy költöztünk kisebb és kisebb lakásba. Sok hasznunk volt abból, hogy anyám perzsaszőnyeget bogozott, mert az 1930-as évektől egészen a deportálásig nagyjából az pótolta a család jövedelmét. Désen, sem a magyar, sem a zsidó úri családoknál nem volt divat, hogy az asszonyok pénzt keressenek és anyám elég rosszul érezte magát a baráti körben, mivel ő dolgozott. El is hagyogatták aztán a barátok. Egyre kevesebbet jártak hozzá, egyre ritkábban hívták meg magukhoz.

Végül 1936-ban, 14 éves koromban beköltöztünk Kolozsvárra. A 19 éves bátyám akkor már egyetemi hallgató volt Kolozsváron. Autó akkor még nem volt, vonattal költöztünk fel Kolozsvárra. Apám Désen maradt és csak 1939-ben jött Kolozsvárra. Azt hiszem volt valami konfliktus anyám és apám között. Előttünk, a gyermekek előtt soha nem veszekedtek, mi semmit sem tudtunk arról ami köztük zajlott, de a három év alatt, amíg külön éltek, alig látogatott meg minket Kolozsváron az apám. Kolozsváron először a Pata [ma Nicolae Titulescu] utca elején laktunk, majd beköltöztünk a központba, a mostani bábszínház udvarába, a Király utcába. (Onnan deportáltak minket.) Amikor beköltöztünk Kolozsvárra, én még egy osztályt jártam a román gimnáziumban, összesen négy polgárit végeztem. A bátyám tanult és közben órákat adott, anyám pedig kosztosokat tartott, de abból nem lehetett eltartani a családot. A brassói Irén nagynéném segítségével anyám vett 1938-ban egy szemfelszedő gépet és munkákat vállalt. Ekkortól kezdve valamennyivel normálisabb anyagi helyzetben éltünk.

Én sokat kézimunkáztam, volt kézügyességem. Az állami inasiskolában kitanultam a varrást, majd egy keresztény nőhöz mentem dolgozni. Veressnének hívták, állítólag nemesi származású volt ő is és a férje is. Nagyon jó viszonyban voltunk, megbecsült. Három év helyett két év után, 1939-ben, segéd lettem nála és már fizetést is kaptam. A műhely a főtéren volt, mindössze két helyiségből állt. Öten-hatan dolgoztunk ott. A megrendelők főleg Veressné ismerősei közül kerültek ki, de voltak idegenek is. A magyarok bejövetelekor, 1940 szeptemberében 4, több megrendelőnek, köztük grófnőknek is varrtunk díszmagyart, igazgyöngyökkel. Én voltam ekkor a főgyöngyöző. Én gyöngyöztem ki például Kolozsvár legjobb szemorvosa, Koleszár leányának a ruháját. Amíg hárman éltünk, 1939-ig, anyám vezette a család könyvelését. Összeraktuk a keresetünket, majd a hónap végén anyám háromfelé osztotta azt. Mindenki azt csinált a részével, amit akart.

Mikor Lengyelországot lerohanták 17 éves voltam. Mi az újságból értesültünk róla. A román törvények is éreztették velünk a változásokat. Az 1938-as Goga kormány 5 zsidóellenes intézkedéseit az ugyanez év februárjában bevezetett királyi diktatúra csak fokozta. 1939-ben pedig egyre inkább visszaszorították a zsidók számarányát a szabadfoglalkozású pályákon: zsidó ügyvédek, mérnökök egyre nehezebben kaptak munkát.

Én sportoló voltam, az érdekelt engem. Volt a kolozsvári zsidó közösségnek egy sportklubja, a Haggibbor [Az erős] és annak különböző szakosztályai voltak: futball, ping-pong, tenisz, vízipóló, vívó. Nagyon sok fiatal és sok híres sportoló volt a Haggibborban. Például az Erős fiúk. Erős Laci öccse, Csibi, tőrvívó volt és európai bajnokságon is részt vett. Laci kardvívó volt és vízipólós. A brassói unokatestvérem, Géza, az Erős fiuk leánytestvérét vette el feleségül. Én rajtuk keresztül kerültem be a Haggibborba. Ping-pongban, a 30-as évek végén, a Haggibbor nyerte a román bajnokságot. Ott voltam én is a csapatban, meg egy barátnőm is, Weisz Éva. Volt egy első helyezésem ping-pongban, nemzetközi párosban Kolozsvári Sárival, egy Balkán – versenyen, 1939-ben. A Haggibborban nem voltak keresztények, egyetlen egy kivételével. Volt egy Vladone nevezetű ping-pongozó, aki járt hozzánk, oda a klubba. Nagyon szívesen fogadtuk. Azt hiszem országos bajnok is volt. Mivel egyike voltam a legjobb védőjátékosoknak, általában én tréningeztem a fiúkkal is, köztük Vladoneval. A ping-pong szakosztály elnöke Paneth Farkas volt. Vívtam és teniszeztem is, mind a kettőt versenyszerűen, de ott nem értem el különösebb eredményeket. A vívómesterünk Mózes Jenő volt, ő Auschwitzban pusztult el. Kitűnő szakember volt. Amíg versenyezhettünk, eljártunk egymás mérkőzéseire. Más sportot is űztem, síeltem, úsztam. Ez volt a szórakozás és 1940-től kezdve, amikor bejöttek a magyarok, ez megszűnt. A zsidótörvények miatt nem engedték szerepelni a Haggibbor játékosait, nem volt lehetőségünk, versenyezni.

A baráti köröm is a Haggibborból került ki. Az egyik barátunknak, Roth Marcellnek, akinek jómódú gyógyszerész volt az apja, volt gramofonja. Nagyon szép lemezei voltak, klasszikus zene és opera. Minden héten egy délután összeültünk és zenedélutánt rendeztünk. Volt olyan közülünk, aki értett a zenéhez és beszélt arról, amit éppen hallgattunk. Ismertük az összes nagy zeneszerzőt, szimfóniát, operát. Egy másik baráti körben könyveket beszéltünk meg, mindenki beszélt arról, amit legutóbb olvasott. Ilyen zárt lehetőségek között, amilyen akkor volt nekünk, amikor a magyarok bejöttek, mi így éltünk. A barátokkal jártunk kirándulni, de csak kisebb kirándulások voltak ezek. Például elmentünk biciklivel a Cegei tóhoz egy délután, vittünk sátrat és másnap jöttünk haza. [A Cegei tó megközelítőleg 60 kilométerre van Kolozsvártól, Dés irányában.]

Kolozsváron a zsidó ifjúság komolyan részt vett a baloldali illegális mozgalomban, például a bátyám diákként 1938-tól kezdve illegalista volt, de már 1936-tól kapcsolatban állt a kommunistákkal. Egyszerű tag volt, nem volt funkciója a kommunista szervezetben. A Kommunista Pártot még az 1920-as években beszüntették a román hatóságok. Ettől kezdve csak titokban, illegálisan működött. A tagjait ezért nevezték illegalistáknak. Én úgy ismerkedtem meg a kommunista mozgalommal, hogy a Pap utcai zsidó tanonciskolában gyakran tartott valamelyik kommunista előadásokat. Általában nem az ideológiáról beszéltek, hanem a szocializmus gyakorlati részéről, arról, hogy hogyan kell megvalósulnia. György, a bátyám, vitt el egy ilyen előadásra, később pedig már magamtól jártam ezekre. Az egyik előadó egy zsidó orvostanhallgató, Neumann Ödi volt. Ezekre jártam el minden héten, itt hallottam a kommunizmusról. Magyar kommunistákkal így nem is kerültem kapcsolatba, kizárólag zsidó körökben forogtam. A bátyám és én már fiatal korunkban ateisták voltunk, a kommunizmusban hittünk, abban, hogy valamikor egyenlő polgárokká leszünk. Hittünk az emberi fejlődésben, és nem bíztuk a bánatunkat, nehézségünket az Istenre, hogy ő oldja meg. Azt mi kellett megoldjuk. Függetlenül a vallástól, volt zsidó identitásunk és büszkék voltunk rá. Tudtunk a cionista mozgalomról. Sok és különböző irányzat volt, köztük baloldali irányultságú is. A bátyám például egy ilyen cionista baloldali szervezet, a Hasomer Hacair 6 felé kacsintgatott, de aztán 1938-ban feloszlatták őket.

1940 előtt pénzt gyűjtöttem az illegalista Vörös Segély részére a szimpatizánsoktól. Nagyon sok gazdag fiatal volt, aki nem mert kommunista lenni, de szimpatizált a mozgalommal és támogatta azt pénzzel. Ez titokban ment. Inkább a diákok körében terjedt a kommunizmus. Miután bejöttek a magyarok [1940-ben], részt vettem röpcédulák terjesztésében is. A röpcédulákon különböző felhívások voltak, főleg a munkásság számára készültek. Arra bíztattuk őket, hogy ne hagyják magukat kizsákmányolni, fejtsenek ki ellenállást a munkahelyükön.

Kolozsváron sejtek léteztek, nem tudom kik voltak a vezetők. [Szerk. megj.: sejteknek nevezett kis csoportokba szerveződtek a kommunisták.] Egy embert lehetett ismerni, akitől az utasításokat kaptuk. Mindenkinek volt külön egy ilyen kapcsolattartó embere, úgy is hívtuk őket, hogy ‘a kapcsolat’. A bátyám kapcsolata egy Király Zoltán nevű keresztény fiú volt, akit 1941-ben elvittek munkaszolgálatra, az orosz frontra. Az én kapcsolatom az egy dési fiú volt, aki Kolozsváron élt. Hollender fiúka, én ilyen néven ismertem. Semmi mást nem tudtam róla. Ő 1942-43-ban lebukott, elfogta a csendőrség. Szamosfalván – ahol a kommunisták börtöne volt – börtönbe zárták majd agyonverték. Ott volt Farkas Laci is börtönben. Őt az 1930-as évek végén ismertem meg, zsidó származású volt. Kolozsvári volt ugyan, de Désen tevékenykedett. A kolozsvári illegalista szervezet őt küldte ki Désre, hogy ott irányítsa a kommunisták szervezkedését.

Amikor a magyar csapatok bevonultak Kolozsvárra 1940 őszén, az apám eleve örvendett nekik. Visszavárta a magyar uralmat, mert ő az első világháborúban a fronton harcolt az Osztrák – Magyar Monarchia hadseregében, kitüntetése is volt. Arról tudtunk, hogy Magyarországon zsidótörvények vannak érvényben, de mégis oda vonzódtunk, mert magyar volt a kultúránk, az anyanyelvünk. De aztán hamar éreztették velünk, – jobban, mint a románok – hogy hát nem kell örüljünk neki, hogy bejöttek. A bátyám először akkor érezte ezt, amikor 1940-ben az egyetemen megtámadták a jogászok botokkal. A bátyám, aki vegyésznek tanult, készült éppen a doktorátusára. Vitriollal a kezében jött ki a laboratóriumból, amikor körbefogták és úgy megverték, hogy úgy jött haza mint egy ló, úgy fel volt dagadva az arca. Attól kezdve már erősen éreztették velünk, hogy zsidók vagyunk.

1941 elején megszűnt a munkahelyem. Amikor bejöttek a magyarok 1940-ben, a főnöknőm férjét kinevezték Désre polgármesternek, és átköltöztették a műhelyt Désre. A zsidótörvények miatt új munkahelyet már nem tudtam keresni, és csak feketén tudtam dolgozni itt-ott. A tulajdonosoknak kifizetődött feketén foglalkoztatni munkásokat, mert nem kellett utánuk adót és betegsegélyzőt fizetni. A hatósági ellenőrzések pedig nem voltak szigorúak.

A háború alatt apám, mint jogtanácsos, bekerült egy bankba, azt hiszem Agrár Bank volt. Az akkori EMKE patika fölötti részen volt a székhelye. Nem tudom, minek a rövidítése az EMKE, az idős kolozsváriak viszont még ma is úgy nevezik azt az épületet. Süllyedő háznak hívtuk akkor, mert megrepedt és süllyedni kezdett az utca felöli oldala. Úgy emlékszem, valamikor 1944-ben elbocsátották innen apámat, de hogy utána hol dolgozott, azt már nem tudom. Anyám ekkor szemfelszedéssel foglalkozott. Volt egy zsidó üzlet műhellyel. Az anyám itt kapott egy kis helyet, amiért bért fizetett és a saját gépét vitte be, azon dolgozott saját kontójára. A tulajdonosnak volt egy nagyon rendes keresztény alkalmazottja, akinek nevére – miután már a zsidó üzletek nem működhettek – átíratta az üzletet és a műhelyt (ez talán 1944-ben volt). Mivel anyám nem volt alkalmazott, hanem bérelte a helyet, nem rakták ki és egész deportálásig dolgozhatott ott.

Az 1944 márciusa utáni időszak nagyon nehéz volt nekünk a sok restrikció miatt, amit tudomásul vettünk, mert nem volt mit tennünk ellene. Keresztény üzletekbe nem mehettünk vásárolni, csak bizonyos órákban szabadott az utcán közlekedni. Arra sem emlékszem pontosan, hogy mikor került fel a sárga csillag, talán amikor a németek jöttek 1944 tavaszán. [Szerk. megj.: Kolozsvárra a német megszálló csapatok 1944. március 27-én vonultak be. A sárga csillag viselését március 31-én tették kötelezővé.] A deportálásokról semmit nem hallottunk. Akik rendszeresen bejártak a hitközséghez, azok sem tudták. Egy szűk kör, a vezetőség, tudta már közvetlenül a gettózás előtt, a Kolozsvárra érkező lengyel zsidó menekültektől. Azok hoztak híreket és senki sem hitte el azokat, amiket meséltek. Pedig volt köztük olyan, aki Treblinkából szökött meg. A nyilasokról tudtuk, hogy veszélyesek. Verésekről, gyilkosságokról, a Dunába való lövésről érkeztek hírek, de a hitközségnél nyugtattak minket.

Általános értesítés volt falragaszokon, hogy mikortól kezdődik a zsidóknak a téglagyárba való szállítása és hogy mit vihetnek magukkal. Egy – két nappal később, május 3-án, jöttek a csendőrök. Megjelentek a háznál, mindenkinek a batyuja össze volt csomagolva. Minden ottmaradt a házban, úgy ahogy volt: bútor, edény, minden vagyon. Amit szabadott vinni, élelmiszert, néhány ruhadarabot, értéktárgyakat, az batyuba volt kötve. Az én családomat is, a szüleimet, testvéremet és engem, felpakoltak egy teherautóra a ház többi zsidó lakóival együtt és bevittek a téglagyári gettóba. Sok keresztény lakos örült mikor elvittek minket, mert maradt egy csomó minden utánunk, s mindenkinek jutott valami belőle.

A téglagyár most is ott van az Irisz lakótelep mellett, a vasúti vonalhoz közel. Három hetet voltunk a gettóban, szörnyű körülmények között. Nem emlékszem, hogy főztünk volna, mert nem volt mivel, vagy min, mert áram sem volt. Nem emlékszem, hogy egy közös konyha lett volna. Arra sem emlékszem, hogy lett volna tisztálkodási lehetőség, vécék sem voltak. Nagyon sok embert gyűjtöttek össze, Kolozsvár egész zsidóságát. Három-négy négyzetméter hely lehetett egy család számára, függetlenül attól, hogy hány tagja volt a családnak. Tehát nem lehetett kapni egy széket, nem lehetett leülni, nem lehetett csinálni semmit. Csak fekvőhelyek voltak, amit nappal össze lehetett szedni és annak a tetejére ülni. Ott tartottak a téglagyáron belül.

Azt mondták, nem visznek ki az országból, hanem Magyarország különböző helyeire visznek dolgozni, lehetőség szerint mindenkit a szakmájának megfelelően. Kihirdették, hogy az orvosok és mérnökök jó volna, ha az első transzporttal mennének, hogy a munkahelyeket tudják elfoglalni. Mivel a sógornőm, Rózsi orvosnő volt, a bátyám mérnők, a mi családunk is velük együtt elment az első transzporttal. Körülbelül száz embert gyömöszöltek be egy marhavagonba. Amikor megláttuk a vonatból a pici lyukon, hogy Csap [ma Csop], akkor tudtuk, hogy kész, Lengyelországba megyünk. Csap ugyanis már Magyarországon túl volt. Csapig kísértek a magyar csendőrök, és ott átadtak az SS-eknek minket. Amire Auschwitzba értünk egy csomó halottunk volt. Lefeküdni nem lehetett, csak ülni vagy állni, vagy fel kellett álljon az egyik családtag, hogy a másik ki tudjon nyújtózkodni. Nem volt víz, nem volt vécé, egy kübli (bádogedény) volt az egyik sarokban. Oda kellett eljutni, hogy az ember elvégezze a dolgát, a nyilvánosság előtt. Embertelen dolog volt.

Auschwitzban a németek kutyával vártak az állomáson. Leszállítottak a vagonokból, majd jött a válogatás: nők, férfiak külön. A családtól elbúcsúzni sem lehetett. Minden meglepetésszerűen ment, hogy ne legyen időnk semmire, se gondolkozni, se szót szólni. Minket, akiket életben hagytak, vittek a fürdőbe, a valódi fürdőbe. Levetkőztettek, majd bevittek egy terembe, ahol lenyírtak minden szőrzetet rólunk, hogy védekezzenek a tetű ellen. Szlovákiai zsidó lányok végezték ezt a feladatot. Megkérdeztem attól a lánytól, amelyik engem nyírt, hogy mikor fogom látni az anyámat. Erre kimutatott az ablakon és azt mondta: ‘Látod azt a füstöt? Ott megy ki az anyád’. Borzasztóan haragudtak ránk, mert mi még selyempaplanban aludtunk, amikor ők a fronton kielégítették a német katonák kívánságait, s utána hozták őket Auschwitzot építeni. Már négy éve lágerben voltak, úgyhogy rögtön megtudtuk tőlük mi vár ránk.

Auschwitzban az volt a szörnyű, hogy semmi dolgunk az égvilágon nem volt. Egész nap ültünk és, verseket mondtunk, énekeltünk, ki mit tudott azzal produkálta magát, hogy teljen a nap. A semmittevés volt a legszörnyűbb. Ott nem volt munkalehetőség semmi. Lagerstrasse volt, blokkok voltak és semmi más. A Lagerstrasseból nem lehetett kimeni. A barakkok között is korlátozva volt a szabadon járás, még a vécére járás is. Mivel gyógyszer nem volt, nagyon sokan haltak meg különböző betegségekben, a hasmenés volt a legveszélyesebb. Nagyon sok sportoló, főleg a nagytestűek pusztultak el leghamarább, dacára, hogy sportoltak, mert a szervezetük nem bírta az éhezést.

A sógornőm az egyik szemben lévő barakkban, a Rewierben dolgozott. (Ez volt a lábadozók barakkja.) Nagyon ritka alkalom volt amikor elmehettem oda. De például ő orvos létére sem járhatott szabadon, ő is az ő barakkjában, a Rewierben kellett lakjon. A sógornőm borzasztó pesszimista volt. Egy idő után már egyszerűen nem akartam vele találkozni, mert örökké csak azt ismételgette, hogy ‘Miért kínlódtok, nem látjátok, hogy nincs ennek vége, innen élve nem lehet kikerülni?’ De az embernek ott minden optimizmusára szüksége volt ahhoz, hogy megpróbáljon élni, ő meg minden alkalommal demoralizált. Viszont a sógornőm rögeszméjévé vált keresni a bátyámat és mindenhol, ahol járt, kis cédulákat hagyott, vagy amikor jöttek hozzá, mint orvoshoz kontrolba, azoktól is kérdezősködött a bátyám felöl. Persze sehol nem lehetett megtalálni. Volt egy SS szanitéc, aki minden lágerbe ment ellenőrizni, ő felelt az egész körzetért, inkluzíve Bergen Belsen és Buchenwald is beleesett ebbe a körzetbe. A sógornőm, nem tudom hogy, összebarátkozott-e vagy, hogy történt, de megkérte ezt a szanitécet, hogy vigyen magával néhány cédulát, amelyen ez állt: ‘Keresem Havas Györgyöt’. A bátyám Niederorschelben, az Buchenwaldnak egy kisebb lágere volt, ott dolgozott. Egy szép nap a szanitéc megtalálta őt, s hát persze a sógornőm oda volt, és attól kezdve minden hónapban – mert ez a szanitéc minden hónapban ment körútra – küldött csomagot a bátyámnak. Tehát ők tudtak egymásról. Én ezt a történetet később, a hazaérkezésünk után tudtam meg. Máskülönben, egy könyvben, egy francia le is írta az esetet, mint érdekességet, mint bizonyítékot, hogy nem minden német volt, még ha SS uniformis volt is rajta, gyilkos.

Farkas Laci feleségével mi Stubendienst-ek voltunk, mi osztottuk szét az ételt. Két-három emeletes ágyas csoportért feleltünk mi. Volt amikor éjszaka úgynevezett Blockspäre volt, vagyis akkor nem volt szabad a blokkok között közlekedni. Mi ketten kiszöktünk a blokk hátánál, ahol a kocsik közlekedtek, mert kíváncsiak voltunk, hogy miért van Blockspäre. Ez egy ritka dolog volt. Akkor láttuk, hogy három teherautóban meztelenre vetkőztetett, ordító, síró cigánygyerekeket visznek a gázkamrába. Tudták, hogy hova viszik őket, mert addig együtt voltak a családjukkal a cigányok. Más gyerek nem volt a lágerben, mert azokat már eleve a válogatásnál elválasztották a szüleiktől és a gázkamrába vitték. Nem tudom, hogy Magyarországról vagy Romániából, vagy honnan vitték a cigányokat. Semmit nem tudtunk ezekről.

A mellettünk lévő Lagerstrasseban cseh zsidók voltak, azok is családostól. Saját ruhában jártak, nem voltak megnyírva. Theresienstadtból hozták őket. A németek Theresienstadtot mutogatták a külföldieknek, hogy ők így bánnak a zsidókkal: házban laktak az emberek és saját ruhájukban. Nem voltak megnyírva és emberi kinézésük volt. Végignéztük, ahogy kiválogatták közülük a munkaképeseket, férfiakat és nőket. Azokat elvitték egy transzporttal. A többi ott maradt és akkor dobálták át nekünk – mert csak egy drótkerítés választott el minket – a gyógyszereket, meg amijük volt. Tudták, hogy hova viszik majd őket, tehát nekik nincs szükségük ilyesmikre. Másnap vitték is őket a gázkamrába.

Állandóan jött egy TODT szervezet, nem tudom, hogy pontosan mit jelentett ez a négy betű. Azok különböző munkákra válogattak ki embereket, majd szétosztották őket Németország különböző helyeire. Én is bekerültem egy munkacsoportba, ez 1944 októberében volt. Sziléziába vittek, tankcsapdát ásni. A tankcsapdaásás nem volt kimondottan női munka, pláne olyan legyengült állapotban, amiben mi voltunk.

Amikor az oroszok közeledtek, – hallottuk már az ágyúdörgést, – akkor útnak indítottak, gyalog. Kétezer kilométert gyalogoltunk. Drezdánál léptünk be Németországba, majd Marienbadnal cseh földre léptünk. Az a legszélsőbb pontja Csehszlovákiának, a legnyugatibb pontja. Aki megszökött, azokat mind megfogták, utánunk hozták, a csoport után, és lelőtték ott előttünk. Amikor az első városba, Domajlicebe beértünk, ott a csehek úgy viselkedtek velünk, hogy az ember érezte, meg lehet szökni. Akkor már hat napja egy falat ennivalónk nem volt, ki voltunk éhezve. A csehek az ablakból dobták ki az ennivalót az utcára a csoportnak és aztán később, ahogy mentünk tovább a városban, ki volt téve az út közepére a felszeletelt kenyér, alma. Minden, ami a ház körül ehető volt azt ők kitették, hogy együnk. Ennek dacára senkinek nem jutott eszébe megszökni. Pedig a városban, lett volna lehetőség rá. Egyetlen egy ember hiányzott közülünk csak. A következő faluban elhatároztam, hogy biztos a foglyok fognak kéregetni és én akkor meg fogok szökni. Nevolicében szöktem meg úgy, hogy az SS katonák, akik minket kísértek, elég távol voltak egymástól, s akkor a sorban az első SS mögé mentem, hogy minél távolabb legyek a háta mögött lévőtől. Kiugrottam a sorból és egy sikátorban elmenekültem. Amire a háta mögött lévő katona odaérkezett és lőni kezdett, akkor én már távol voltam, és a többi fogoly is szétszéledt, úgy hogy azokkal kellett foglalkozniuk. Ez 1945. április 24-én volt.

Velem szökött még egy munkácsi lány anélkül, hogy megbeszéltük volna. Bozsennának hívták. Szerencsére ő tudott perfekt csehül, oroszul és magyarul. Egy cseh egyedülálló nő fogadott be minket. A férje nem tudom hol volt. Az asszonyok egyedül maradtak, alig volt férfi a faluban. Kellett nekik a munkaerő. De hát én például 36 kg voltam, én nem voltam munkaerőképes. Inkább sajnálatból fogadott be. Fantasztikus dolog volt például az, hogy egy ilyen egyszerű falusi asszony tudott arról gondoskodni, hogy minket hogyan tápláljon, hogyan tartson életben. Mert nagyon sokan haltak meg a felszabadulás után és éppen azért, mert rosszul táplálkoztak. Például a kályhára oda volt készítve egy fazék tejes kávé, nem engedte, hogy vizet igyunk. Ha szomjasak voltunk, azt kellett igyunk, mert az táplált. Két hónap alatt 12 kilót szedtem fel magamra, a hazaindulásnál már 48 kilós voltam.

Bejöttek az amerikaiak egy dzsippel, négy katona ült benne, hogy milyen rangúak azt nem tudom. Összedobolták [összehívták] a falu lakosságát a falu központjába. Az egyik felállt az autóban és csehül bejelentette, hogy: ‘szabadok vagytok’. Két nap múlva, 1945. május 8-án, mikor a háborúnak is vége lett, bementünk a városba, Domajlicebe. A városban meg volt már szervezve a menekültek fogadása. Internátusokban, iskolákban alakítottak ki ideiglenes szállásokat. Az amerikaiak elláttak minket gyógyszerekkel is. Bozsenna és én úgy döntöttünk, hogy nem maradunk ott az ideiglenes szálláson, hanem elindulunk és munkát keresünk magunknak a városban. Először kinéztünk magunknak egy olyan házat, ahol csűr is volt az udvaron. Amikor belestünk az udvarra, egy tolószékben ülő fiatalt láttunk. Úgy gondoltuk, hogy itt biztos szükség van valamilyen munkaerőre. Bozsenna aki jól tudott csehül, megkérdezte a háziasszonyt, hogy felfogadna-e minket dolgozni szállás és étel ellenében? Az asszony azt válaszolta, hogy igen, mert nagy a kertje, állatokat tart és szüksége van segítségre. Bozsennával elmentünk az internátusba és bejelentettük, hogy munkaadókat találtunk és lemondunk a nekünk fenntartott helyekről, odaadhatják másoknak. Mikor visszajöttünk, az asszony bejelentette, hogy meggondolta magát és csak egyikünket fogadja fel. Mivel Bozsenna tudott csehül, őt választotta, engem viszont beajánlott a szomszéd családhoz, Kicbergerováékhoz. Azok ismerték a német nyelvet, így meg tudtam értetni magam velük. Álmodni sem mertem volna, hogy még aznap megfürdök, ráadásul meleg vízben. A család szállítással foglalkozott, volt egy fiuk és két lányuk. A két lány nem lakott ott, férjnél voltak. A fiú pedig fenn lakott az emeleten. Volt külön szobája, konyhája, de lent étkezett a szüleinél és a rádiót is ott hallgatta náluk. A fiúnak volt egy barátnője, akit a fiú anyja nem szeretett, mert idősebb volt nála és kihasználta. Néhány nap alatt összebarátkoztam a fiúval. Egyszer azt mondta nekem, hogy náluk Csehszlovákiában nincs olyan lány, akivel könyvről, irodalomról, zenéről, lehet beszélgetni, velem viszont lehet. Az anyja nagyon boldog volt, megörült, amikor látta, hogy mennyire megbarátkozott velem a fia. Örökbe akart fogadni, volt is már a hatóságoknál megérdeklődni, hogy mi a módja ennek. Én viszont haza akartam jönni Kolozsvárra, amint lehetett. Egyszer, megkérdezte tőlem az asszony, hogy ki vagyok, s én nem válaszoltam. Azt mondtam neki, hogy mondhatok bármit, mert úgysem tudják leellenőrizi, így inkább nem mondok semmit. A cseh család tulajdonképpen háztartásbeli segítségre fogadott fel, de nem engedték, hogy dolgozzak. Nagyon rendes emberek voltak. Egy hónapot voltam náluk.

Bozsenna, akivel szöktem, összeismerkedett egy amerikai katonával és összebarátkoztak. Ő ott maradt Domajliceben. Hogy aztán mi történt vele, azt már nem tudom. Én három kolozsvárival – két nővel és egy férfival – indultam el haza, mikor az első vonatok megindultak. Az egyik nő Hirsch Teri volt, a másik pedig a húga, Ibi. A férfit Schönberger Öcsinek hívták. Hazaérkezésünk után is tartottuk a kapcsolatot egymással. Mindegyikük Kolozsváron maradt. Hirschék munkába állottak, Schönberger pedig egyetemre ment tanulni.

Májusban még rendszertelenül közlekedtek a vonatok. A sínek szét voltak lőve, úgy hogy alig volt valamilyen közlekedés. Fantasztikus, hogy a csehek hogyan viselkedtek velünk. A domajlicei házigazdáim induláskor felpakoltak négyünket sült galambbal és egy óriási kenyérrel. Kaptunk tőlük egy Európa térképet is, ami később nagy hasznunkra vált. A vonatok ugyanis úgy közlekedtek, hogy rájuk volt írva krétával, melyik településig mennek. Minden, ami délkeletre jött, az jó volt nekünk. Felültünk a vonatra, megérkeztünk egy bizonyos településre, majd az állomáson megvártuk amíg ismét indul egy olyan vonat, ami nekünk megfelel. Nyár volt, nem volt hideg, nem volt probléma az éjszakák eltöltésével. Csak az orosz katonáktól kellett félni, mert azok nagyon agresszívek voltak. Az állomásokon meg volt szervezve a Vörös Kereszt, teával vagy kávéval, kenyérrel, ennivalóval láttak el. Csehországban nagyon rendesek voltak velünk az emberek. Amikor utaztunk a vonatokon, az emberek látták rajtunk, hogy kik és mik vagyunk, felálltak és átadták a helyüket. Mikor átértünk Szlovákiába az ottaniak úgy viselkedtek velünk, mint a leprásokkal.

Három hetet utaztam. 1945 július 4-én értem haza. Az állomáson az itteni zsidók fogadtak, hogy honnan kerültek elő, azt én nem tudom. Talán a volt munkaszolgálatosok lehettek, akik még 1944-ben jöttek haza. Ők közelebb voltak a fronthoz, úgyhogy hamarabb szabadultak mint mi. Senkim és semmim nem volt, amikor haza érkeztem. A családomból egyedül a bátyám, a felesége és én éltük túl a Holokausztot. Vannak nagyon szegény emberek, de mindegyiknek van egy tányérja, lábasa, kanala, villája, lepedője, párnája, egy pokróca. Amikor haza jöttem, nekem még ez sem volt, semmi az égvilágon. Az, ami rajtam volt és semmi több. Így kellett elkezdenem egy új életet. Képtelen voltam elfogadni vagy elképzelni, hogy hogyan lehet tovább élni, s eldöntöttem: felejteni kell, és hát egy csomó minden kiesett az emlékezetemből. A felejtés túl jól sikerült. Nem azt felejtettem el amit akartam, hanem elfelejtettem nagyon sok mindent a gyerekkoromból.

Elveszettek voltunk mindannyian, nem tudtuk mit csináljunk, mit kezdjünk magunkkal. Akinek nem volt senkije, nem volt hova mennie, az a volt a Péter-Pál villába 7 került. A villa a Malomárok partján, majdnem a Pap utca sarkán volt. Azt rendezték be szállásnak. Kosztot szintén ott adtak, háromszor naponta. Én szerencsés helyzetben voltam, mert amikor megérkeztem, kint volt az állomáson egy fiú és az édesanyja. Keresték a fiúnak a menyasszonyát, akit deportáltak. Mindenkitől kérdezősködtek felőle, ki tud valamit róla. Én véletlenül tudtam róla és mondtam, hogy találkoztam vele még Auschwitzban, de többet nem tudtam mondani. Erre fel azok eldöntötték, hogy ne menjek lakni a Péter Pál villába, hanem menjek hozzájuk. Nekik a Kossuth Lajos utcában volt egy nagy lakásuk, négy vagy öt szobás és hárman laktak benne: a fiú, az anyja és az apja. Megkértek, hogy ha ismerek egy pár rendes gyereket, szóljak azoknak is és befogadnak. Érdekük fűződött ehhez, mert akkor voltak a lakásrekvirálások és ahol kevesen laktak, azoktól elvették a lakást. Még ha érdek is volt, nagyon becsületesek voltak velünk szemben. Az apa, Friedmann bácsi zsidó származású volt, a felesége keresztény. Friedmann bácsi egy szektának volt a tagja, Jézus gyermekeinek hívták őket, papjuk is volt. Az volt a feladatuk, hogy szervezzenek be zsidó gyermekeket, hogy keresztelkedjenek meg. Azt hiszem, hogy a református egyházhoz tartoztak, de nem vagyok biztos benne. Mindnyájunkat próbált áttéríteni, de egyikünket sem sikerült azok közül, akik ott laktunk. Ettől függetlenül, nagyon rendesek voltak hozzánk és mi is azok voltunk, mert mikor már egyedül maradt a Friedmann bácsi, anyagi lehetőségek nélkül, akkor mindannyian, akik valaha ott laktunk, rendszerint havonta, ki mennyivel tudott, annyival segítette őt. Megpróbáltuk meghálálni neki azt, hogy otthont teremtettek a számunkra. Úgy is hívtuk a házat, hogy Friedmann szálló.

Megkerestem a régi lakásunkat a Király utcában, de laktak benne. Abszolút nem örültek, amikor megláttak. Nem is engedtek be. Mondtam, hogy minket innen vittek el és nekünk minden bútorunk itt maradt. Azt mondták, hogy ők egy üres lakást kaptak. Nem volt mit csinálni, nem is volt kihez fordulni, hogy visszaköveteljem a lakást. Senki nem is követelt akkor vissza semmit.

Apám testvére közül kettő élt még, az egyik Galacon, a másik Aradon. A brailai, Bumi, meghalt szívinfarktusban, még 1945 előtt, a többi pedig nem tért haza Auschwitzból. Amikor én hazajöttem, mindketten meghívtak magukhoz. Két – két hetet töltöttem Galacon illetve Aradon és körülbelül ennyi volt a kapcsolatunk. Azt elmondták, hogy amikor Kolozsvár felszabadult és én még nem voltam itthon, megpróbáltak valamit visszaszerezni az ott hagyott holminkból. Sikerült visszaszerezni egy hálószobabútort, egy 4 égős gázkályhát, egy nagy szőnyeget és egy komódot. Ezeket a bátyámmal elosztottuk. A gázkályha maradt neki, a többi pedig az enyém lett. A galaci nagybátyám, József, később, az 1950-es években Bukarestbe költözött. Mikor Bukarestben jártam, mindig meglátogattam őt. A bátyám tartotta velük a kapcsolatot, mert abban az időszakban már ő is ott élt.

Hazaérkezésemkor a bátyámról nem tudtam az égvilágon semmit. Augusztusban kaptam az első hírt, hogy él. A felesége a felszabadulásig végig Auschwitzban volt, mint orvos dolgozott ott. Auschwitz felszabadulásakor, elvitték Bergenbelsenbe egy másik lágerbe, ott szintén mint orvos dolgozott tovább. A bátyám, mikor felszabadult Buchenwald, szerzett egy biciklit és az egyik orvos barátjával – aki ugyancsak egy Havas volt, Havas Andor –, fogták magukat és elmentek Bergenbelsenbe. Közben a sógornőm flekktífuszt kapott és a bátyámnak meg kellett várnia ameddig meggyógyul. A barátja viszont hazaindult. Én nem ismertem Havas Andort, de amikor hazaérkezett, megkeresett engem Kolozsváron és mondta, hogy a bátyám Bergenbelsenben van és körülbelül két hét múlva fog hazajönni. Havas Andor később meghalt egy repülőgépben, Izraelbe menet. Szívinfarktust kapott elég fiatalon.

A bátyám, amikor hazajött, belépett a pártba és azonnal kapott állást Kolozsváron, főmérnök lett a gyógyszeráru gyárban. 1948-ban felvitték Bukarestbe. Az erdélyieket vadászták, mert jó szakemberek voltak, és ő lett az országos gyógyszergyártásnak a vezérigazgatója. Miniszteri rangban volt 12 évig. De aztán, az 1960-as évek elején majdnem kirúgták a pártból, állásából le is váltották. Az oka az volt, hogy az egyik kollégája kivándorolt Izraelbe és azzal gyanúsították a bátyámat, hogy ő adatokat szolgáltatott a román gyógyszergyártásról neki, amit Izraelben értékesített az. A bátyám idejében épült fel Iasiban a gyógyszerárú gyár, a penicillint ott kezdték el gyártani először az országban. Ráfogták a bátyám barátjára, hogy gazdasági kém és a bátyám segített neki. Koholmány volt. Végül a bátyám ott maradt a minisztériumban, mint minőségi ellenőr. Onnan ment betegnyugdíjba, annak a bizonyos verésnek a következtében, amit 1940-41-ben kapott a jogászhallgatóktól. Még ma is él, Bukarestben. Van egy leánya, Éva, aki kiment Amerikába. A felesége, Rózsi, meghalt rákban.

Rögtön hazaérkezésem után, 1945-ben beléptem a kommunista pártba. Ez természetes volt számomra, hiszen én már a háború előtt is kapcsolatban álltam a kommunistákkal. Az én párttagsági könyvembe azt írták be, hogy 1943-tól vagyok párttag, de ténylegesen amikor hazajöttem, csak akkortól. Mégis hagytam, hogy 1943-at írjanak be, nem törődtem vele.

A férjemmel, Kallós Miklóssal, Kolozsváron a Dézsisznél [Demokrata Zsidó Ifjak Szövetsége] ismerkedtem meg, rögtön a hazajövetel után. Itt találkozott a zsidó ifjúság. Ő egy nagyváradi vallásos, ortodox családból származik. Nem volt nagy családja, testvére sem volt. Auschwitz előtt ő is vallásos volt. Az édesapja templomi alkalmazottként dolgozott. A férjem segített az apjának elvégezni a feladatokat. Ő az elemit, annak ellenére, hogy ortodox volt, a neológ hitközségi iskolában végezte Váradon, majd zsidó líceumban tanult. Járt talmud-tórába is. Magyarul tanult és ezért nagyon nehezen beszélt románul, furcsa hangsúllyal. Otthon jiddisül is beszéltek, de magyar kultúrában nőtt fel. A férjemet 17 éves korában deportálták a családjával együtt Váradról, senkije nem menekült meg. A férjem Auschwitzban csak három napot volt, utána átszállították Buchenwaldba. Felszabadulás után kórházba jutott és 3 hétig volt egy szanatóriumban. Nem tudom pontosan, hol is volt ez a szanatórium, valahol Buchenwald közelében. A deportálás után teljesen egyedül maradt. Amikor hazajött, beállt a kommunista pártba, ateista lett. Az ég adta világon senki rokona már nem élt, nem volt mit keressen Váradon. Eljött Kolozsvárra, mert itt volt az összes régi lágertársa, akikkel barátságban volt.

Kolozsváron, a Voitec-törvény 8 alapján, egy év alatt elvégzett két osztályt és leérettségizett. Rengeteget olvasott és tanult. 1947-ben felvették a kolozsvári egyetem filozófia szakára, 1948-ban pedig már gyakornok volt az egyetemen, dacára, hogy még csak másodéves hallgató volt. Már dolgozott egy zsidó újságnál is, az Új Útnál, ez egy kolozsvári lap volt. A neológ templom melletti házban volt a szerkesztőségük és Kahána Samuka volt a főszerkesztője már 1945-től. Samukáról annyit tudok, hogy egy nagyon furcsa családban nevelkedett, eredetileg brassóiak. A Kahána fiúk hárman voltak, az egyik nagypolgár, a Brassói Lapok tulajdonosa volt még a háború előtt. Kahána Samuka kommunista volt és újságíróként dolgozott ugyancsak a háború előtt. Volt egy keresztény felesége és két fia. Mind a két fia újságíró, Bukarestben élnek és Bukarestben dolgoznak különböző újságoknál még ma is. Kahána Mózes, a harmadik testvér, író volt. Hosszú évekig kint élt a Szovjetunióban, mint író. Aztán hazajött és itt halt meg Erdélyben.

Egyszerű polgári házasság volt a miénk, egyházi ceremónia nélkül, 1949-ben. A gyárban felültem a biciklire, mert 12 órára voltunk rendelve az esketésre. Elmentünk az anyakönyvvezetőhöz, kimondtuk az igent és visszamentem a gyárba, ez így volt. Az egyik tanú Bajor Bandi (Andor) 9 volt s akkor meghívtuk ebédelni. Nem is tudom ki volt a másik tanú, mert két tanú kellett hozzá. A férjem és Bajor Andor évfolyamtársak voltak az egyetemen. Ők is benne voltak az ötös fogatban, így hívták annak idején őket a Bolyai Egyetemen. Öten voltak: Bajor Andor, Tóth Sándor,10 Benkő Samu 11 és a székely származású Szarvadi Tibor, aki meghalt. Elmentek a Fogarasba kirándulni, eltévedtek és ott pusztult el feleségével együtt. Gáll Ernő 12 idősebb volt, ő más korosztályhoz tartozott, de jó barátok voltak a férjemmel, révén, hogy ő is Váradról származott.

Én 1946-ban egy Victoria nevű szövetkezetben dolgoztam, kötéssel foglalkoztam: megszerveztem a háziasszonyokat, akik otthon kötöttek. Én vettem fel a szövetkezetben a rendeléseket, majd kiadtam kötni és aztán én összeállítottam a ruhákat. Volt ott egy vaskalapos kommunista, aki kijelentette, hogy a háziasszonyok foglalkoztatása kizsákmányolás és ezért a szövetkezet ilyennel nem foglalkozhat. Volt egy csomó megrendelésünk, azt valahogy el kellett rendezni. Ezért 1947-ben kiléptem a szövetkezetből, iparengedélyt váltottam ki, és hat hónapig dolgoztam így. Befejeztem a szövetkezetben felvállalt munkákat, abszolút törvényesen, bejelentve. Ezért engem 1952-ben, amikor a párttisztogatás volt, kizártak a pártból, mint osztályidegent. Arra hivatkoztak, hogy 1947-ben kizsákmányoló tevékenységet folytattam. 1956-ban pedig visszavettek, akkor meg azt mondták, hogy nálam jobb kommunista nincs a világon.

1948-ban protekcióval bejutottam a jelenlegi Somesul kötöttárugyárba, mint egyszerű varrónő. A gyár a törvényszék utáni területen, egy udvarban volt. Akkor még ez egy egészen kicsi műhely volt, ahonnan a kötöde tulajdonosokat (akiket kizsákmányolóknak neveztek) 1948-ban összeszedték a gépeikkel együtt. Belőlük hozták létre a gyárat, a régi Ady harisnyagyár is ide tartozott. [Szerk megj.: A két világháború közötti Kolozsvár egyik legjelentősebb vállalata az Ady harisnyagyár. Igazgatója a zsidó származású László Jenő volt.] Összesen 98-an voltunk ebben a gyárban. Aztán ott nyomda lett és most nem tudom mi van vele. Fel sem ismerném az épületet. Itt nagyon rövid időt, két hónapot működött a gyár, majd átköltözött a Monostori útra. A nevét pedig megváltoztatták Varga Katalin névre. A gyárban tudták, hogy zsidó vagyok. Egy Mező Gizi nevezetű kommunista volt a munkás igazgatónő, tagja volt az illegális kommunista pártnak, még a második világháború előtt. Neki is a férje zsidó volt. A főmérnök, Rosenfeld Ella egy zsidó származású kommunista volt. De nem számított, hogy valaki keresztény vagy zsidó.

Mivel a férjemnek volt már két fél állása, tehát megélhetési problémánk nem volt, én hagytam, hogy tegyenek olyan gépre, ahol éppen munkaerőre volt szükség. Általában az emberek nem szívesen mentek egyik gépről a másikra, mert az anyagi veszteséget jelentett, amíg megtanulták kezelni az új gépet. Nekem nem számított. Minden speciális gépen dolgoztam, amely a gyárban létezett.

1949-ben állapotos lettem, 1950-ben pedig fiam született, Péter. Ebben az időszakban kapott a Varga Katalin gyár a Fürdő utcára nyíló udvarának végén egy házat. A gyár vezetősége úgy határozott, hogy bölcsödét rendez be oda és rám bízza annak a megszervezését. Persze, nem tudtam, hogy kell és mint kell ezt megcsinálni, de nekikezdtem. Ez lett tulajdonképpen a szakmám, a szervezés. A terhességem első hónapjaiban foglalkoztam ezzel. Olyan orvost szereztem, amely nem volt egyetlen bölcsődének sem, és olyan szakácsnőt, aki imádta a gyerekeket. Nem tudom, hogy sikerült összehozni egy olyan kollektívát, amelyik Kolozsvárnak a legjobb bölcsődéjévé tette a kötöttárugyár bölcsődéjét. A nagyobbik fiam, Péter is ebben a bölcsödében nevelkedett. Öt hétre a szülés után visszamentem a gyárba, vissza a termelésbe. A bölcsődeszervezése csak azért volt, hogy könnyítsék nekem az állapotot.

1950-ben, visszatérve a gyárba szekciófelelős lettem és egy csomó jó dolgot csináltam. Az országban használták a kötött méteráru gyártásánál – volt olyan gép is, amelyik méterárut gyártott. – a Banseget. Az ugyanaz, mint a körfűrész az asztalos mesterségben csak egy finomabb szalag, amelyik vág. A kézi szabás borzasztó nehéz munka volt és nem is volt elég pontos. Tudtam, hogy a Banseget hol használják Kolozsváron , elmentem a Flacara a gyárba, megbarátkoztam az igazgatóval és szereztem tőlük egy ócska gépet. Azt elvittem a Varga Katalinba és kipróbáltuk, hogy igenis lehetet készárut, a darabokba lekötött anyagot szabni ezzel a géppel. Lényegesen megjavította a minőséget és a termelékenységet. Ezután terjedt el az országban ez a módszer. Én nagyon szerettem a számokat (mai napig is nagyon szeretek foglalkozni velük). Készítettem egy olyan rendszert, amiből lehetett tudni, melyik csomag hol van – tizenkét darabos csomagonként ment a méterárú a szalagon. Tehát én reggel, amikor bementem a gyárba, elővettem az előtte való napi jelentést, hogy mi termelődött, és akkor én tudtam, hogy mi hol van. Tudtam, hogy hol van elakadva a termelés, hol kell azonnal segíteni. Ezt a rendszert felvitték Bukarestbe és elterjesztették a többi gyárban is. Szóval örökké törtem valamin a fejem.

A Varga Katalinban én voltam a párttitkár a kizárásom előtt. Én soha a pártvezetőkről nem beszéltem, soha nem dicsértem őket. Nem érdekeltek ezek a dolgok, de viszont kommunista elv szerint éltem és dolgoztam. Harcoltam minden alkalommal a munkások érdekeiért, hogy munkájuk legyen, a fizetésük meglegyen, utána jártam mindennek az égvilágon. De már tudtam, hogy ez a rendszer nem tudja megoldani sem a zsidó problémánkat, sem a szociális problémákat. Sztálin halála után, amikor Hruscsov kitálalta a Szovjetunión belüli helyzetet, akkor jöttünk rá, hogy ez nálunk is így van, nemcsak ott a Szovjetunióban. Addig valahogy teli reménnyel éltünk és úgy gondoltuk, hogy mi vagyunk az áldozati kor, de később jobb lesz. Továbbra is hittem a kommunizmusban, de már láttam a kommunista rendszer hibáit, sokkal kritikusabban viszonyultam hozzá.

1952-ben, amikor a párttisztogatás volt, kizártak a pártból, mint osztályidegent. 1953-ban elkezdtem szakszervezeti vonalon dolgozni és minden állami segítség nélkül megszerveztem az önsegélyzőt. Akkor jött divatba ez. Mindenki, aki beiratkozott, fizetett havonként egy minimális összeget. Mindenki kaphatott kölcsönt három hónapi tagság után, de az elején csak annyit, amennyit az ő hozzájárulása fedezett. Minimális kamatra kaphatott kölcsönt. Aztán ez kinőtte magát úgy, hogy komoly összegeket lehetett kölcsönbe venni. Ki egy évre, ki két évre, de ugyancsak minimális kamatra s ez nagyon nagy segítség volt az embereknek. Az egyetemen is volt önsegélyző, amiben a férjem is benne volt. Az önsegélyzőből vettük az autónkat, s havonta törlesztettünk.

1959-ben mikor eljöttem a Varga Katalinból, egy évig otthon maradtam. Beálltam egy szövetkezetbe, amelynek otthon is tudtam dolgozni. Hímeztem, ezzel pótoltam a családi bevételt. Nem tudtam tétlenül ülni. A nagyobbik fiam miatt kellett kimaradjak a munkából, mert problémái voltak az iskolában és muszáj volt otthon maradjon. Szellemileg túlságosan fejlett volt az osztálytársaihoz képest és zavarta az órákat. Kellett valaki, aki állandóan mellette legyen, hogy ne legyen belőle tekergő. Otthon Péter az apja ölében ült állandóan. Nem tudom, hogy tudott úgy dolgozni a férjem, hogy a fia közben az ölében van és állandóan kérdez valamit. A férjem az írógép mellett írt és közben a fiunk az írógépnél minden betűt megtanult. A napközi igazgatója mondta volt egyszer a férjemnek, hogy: ‘hát a fia a mi legnagyobb segítségünk, de a vizsgázók réme’. A Bolyai egyetem által működtetett napköziben vizsgáztatták az óvónőképzőnek a tagjait. Például egy székely leányka vizsgázott és egy mesét kellett mondjon. Mondta a mesét, és beszélt az autóról, de azt nem autónak mondta hanem ‘ótónak’. A fiam persze beleszólt, hogy az nem ‘ótó’ hanem autó. Különböző dolgokba beleszólt úgy, hogy belezavarodtak a vizsgába. Az elemiben is ugyanez volt a probléma. Túl okos volt, és ezt nem álltatta kimutatni. Írni, olvasni tudott mikor iskolába ment. Zavarta a tanítónőt, beleszólt a leckébe. Szülőértekezleten mindig végig kellett hallgatni ezt. A tanítónő kétségbe volt esve miatta. Az elemit a Téglás utcában végezte.

A házasságunk után több helyen is laktunk. A bátyám, mielőtt áthelyezték volna Bukarestbe, mint főmérnök kapott egy garzonlakást, azt adta át nekünk, 1949-ben. Az a ház, a háború előtt egy Stössel nevű gazdag ékszerészé volt. Gyönyörű fenyves udvaron kellett keresztülmenni a lakásig. Az udvar és a ház jelenleg a Flacara konfekciógyár tulajdonában van. A lakás nagyon kicsi volt: egy szoba, kicsi fürdőszoba és egy talpalatnyi előszoba. Egy gázrezsót állítottunk be a fürdőszobába, azon főztünk. Itt született Péter fiunk, 1950-ben. Négy év múlva a Budai Nagy Antal utcába költöztünk, szintén egy garzonlakásba. Azt mondtuk, még egy gyereket akarunk, de nincs hová, hanem ha kapunk egy nagyobb lakást, akkor kilenc hónapra rá lesz még egy gyerek. Tényleg, kilenc hónapra rá, ahogy elköltöztünk innen, 1955-ben, megszületett a második gyerekünk, György. Ez a lakás egy kanalizálatlan parasztházban volt a Szamosközi utcában. Akkor még teljesen kiépítetlen és rendezetlen, szinte falusias volt a környék. A férjem úgy járt onnan munkába, hogy aktatáskájában cipő és ruhakefét hordott magával, mert ha esett az eső, nyakig sárban járt, ha nem esett, akkor a nadrágja volt térdig poros. Három évig, 1958-ig laktunk ebben a lakásban.

1958-ban kaptuk meg végre az új lakásunkat a központban. A férjem, a tanítás mellett aktivista munkát is vállalt. Megyei aktivista lett, ő felelt a magyar kultúráért. Ő ellenőrizte a kolozsvári magyar sajtó, színház működését, ő hagyta jóvá a megjelentetésüket. Tulajdonképpen ennek köszönhetjük, hogy elköltözhettünk. Ez a lakás a Deák Ferenc utcában, a sarkon volt. Az ablakok a Mátyás szoborra néztek, a főtér közepére. Gyönyörű lakás volt, persze a maga hibájával. Az a bizonyos bank, ahol apám dolgozott a deportálása előtt, az fölé épült a lakás. És a nagyszoba, amely a Mátyás szoborra nyílt, a bank tanácstermének méretére volt szabva. Egy harminchat négyzetméteres gyönyörű nagy, világos, napsütéses szoba, egy fürdőszoba, aminek a szellőzője a konyhára nyílott. A konyha akkora volt, hogy minden a falon volt és csak én fértem be (egyszerre csak egy személy fért be). Vagyis nem volt az egész két négyzetméter. Még volt egy szoba, ami szintén nagyon szép volt és az udvarra nyílt és egy hosszú előszoba. Ennyi volt, de hát a mennyországban éreztük magunkat.

Ahogy beköltöztünk a Deák Ferenc utcába, könnyebb volt már akkor az életünk. Újra dolgozni kezdtem. A városvezetésnek voltak vállalatai, az egyiknek volt egy konfekció szekciója, a ‘munca la domiciliu’, az ún. otthoni munka. Oda mentem dolgozni mint technikai vezető. Ez egy önálló vállalat volt, majd egyesítették egy másik vállalattal, a Chimicaval, amelyik most a Napochim néven működik. A lakhelyi munka azt jelentette, hogy több mint 200 olyan asszonyt foglalkoztattunk, aki nem tudott munkába menni, mert olyanok voltak a családi körülményei vagy az egészségi állapota, de tudott varrni. Volt egy szabó műhelyünk is, innen adtuk ki a munkát az otthon dolgozóknak. A vezetőségnek úgy tűnt, hogy én nagyon jó szervező vagyok. A vállalatnak volt egy bőrszekciója is, amelyik óraszíjakat készített. Azt mondták, hogy vegyem azt is át, legyek annak a főnöke. Mondtam nekik, hogy nekem ez nem szakmám, én ehhez nem értek, s ha valamihez én nem értek azt nem tudom vezetni, mert, hogy nem tudom mit kérhetek az emberektől. Szerencsére, volt egy nagyon jó munkavezetőm, egy nagyon jó szakember. Egy magyar ember volt, de Muresannak hívták. Ő azt mondta nekem, ne is törődjek vele, ő megtanít engem mindenre, amire szükségem van, vegyem át a szekció irányítását: ‘A vállalatnak az kell, hogy maga legyen itten, hát legyen. Nem kell semmit se csináljon és én mindenre megtanítom’. Tényleg megtanított mindenre ami a bőrrel kapcsolatos.

Volt ennek a gyárnak egy bőröndkészítő műhelye is. Ott összesen négy ember dolgozott és azt mondták, azt is vegyem át. Nem akartam persze, így is napi 12 órát dolgoztam, de a végén azt is átvettem. Egyszer az egyik városvezető ment külföldre és kellett neki bőröndöt készíteni. A nyersanyagot a Herbák adta neki, és mi kellett megcsináljuk, persze ingyen – divat volt ez akkor. Én akkor azt mondtam, hogy nem vagyok hajlandó rá. Az elvtársnak nagyobb a fizetése, van amiből megfizetnie a munkát. Én megcsináltatom az emberekkel, de ki kell nekik fizetni a bérüket. Én a kész bőröndöket beadom a raktárba, hivatalos papírokkal és ott csinálnak vele amit éppen akarnak. A munkásokat, akiknek kicsi fizetése van, én nem vagyok hajlandó dolgoztatni azért, hogy az elvtársnak ingyen bőröndje legyen. Ezen összevesztünk az igazgatóval, mert azt állította, hogy az elvtárs kérését nem lehet visszautasítani. Én azt válaszoltam erre, hogy: ‘Tudja mit, most már úgyis annyi mindennel megterheltek, én ennyit nem birok csinálni, én elmegyek’.

Amikor meghallotta a Drumul Nou meg a Flacara vezetősége, – nem tudom honnan hallották – hogy én el akarok menni, megkerestek. [Drumul Nou, Új Út, és Flacara, A láng, konfekció vállalatok voltak.] Jött a Flacara igazgatója, hogy hát be akarják indítani a női konfekciót és menjek hozzájuk dolgozni. (Csak férfi konfekció működött addig.) Eljött a Drumul Nou produkciófőnöke is, egy Sztojka nevezetű úriember, s az azt mondta, hogy menjek hozzájuk mert jó körülmények között lehet náluk dolgozni. Itt van lenn az autó, üljek be, menjek nézzem meg a gyárat. Egy nagyon ügyes ember volt és meggyőzött, hogy menjek oda. Elmentem a Drumul Nouhoz, aztán ő elnök lett, nagyon jól dolgoztunk végig. A Drumul Nounak én szerveztem meg a konfekció részlegét. Először elkezdtünk Bukarestnek dolgozni külföldi, főleg görög anyagokból, nagyon szép dolgokat csináltunk. Aztán megalakult Bukarestben az IC-COP, amely a külföldi kapcsolatokkal és a szövetkezetekkel foglalkozott. Ekkor kezdtünk el a Quellenek dolgozni. Utána a Quelle mellett jött egy német cég, egy kisebb vállalat, Düsseldorfból való, az már finom áruval dolgozott. Annak a technikusa velem egykorú hölgy volt, aki kétszer négy hónapot töltött Kolozsváron. Végig asszisztálta a termelést, a szállítást, mindent. 15 éven keresztül dolgoztunk nekik. Még mai napig is a Drumul Nou két szekciója nekik dolgozik. Innen mentem nyugdíjba, 1979-ben.

Ebben az időszakban, 1978-ban cseréltük el a Deák Ferenc utcai lakásunkat egy második emeleti három szobás lakásra. Onnan, a Zola és a Dózsa György utca sarki lakásunkból, ideköltöztünk a mostani házunkba 1999-ben.

Baráti társaságunk abszolút vegyes volt, nem volt különbség. A kommunista időszak alatt egyáltalán nem találkoztam zsidóellenességgel, antiszemitizmussal. Mi pedig kerültük azt, hogy a holocaustról beszéljünk. A fiainknak sem meséltünk semmit a velünk történtekről. Viszont hagytuk, hogy elolvassanak mindent, ami megjelent a holocaustról, hagytuk őket azzá lenni amik akartak lenni. Nem befolyásoltuk őket semmilyen irányba. Például semmi kifogásunk nem volt egyik fiúnk házasságánál sem, hogy keresztény feleséget választottak maguknak.

A nagyobbik fiam, Péter, zenész volt, fuvolán végzett a Zenekonzervatóriumban és zenetanár lett. Most Bukarestben van, a román televízió magyar adásnál fordító, fordít románról magyarra és magyarról románra is. Nagyon sokszor használja őt a követség is szinkronfordításra. Mikor Orbán Viktor 13 először volt Bukarestben, akkor ő volt a fordító. Péter feleségének, Nórának az anyja román, az apja magyar volt. El is váltak a szülei korán, mert az anyja nem engedte, hogy a házban egy magyar szó is elhangozzék. Ért magyarul a menyem, kénytelen érteni, mert mi azért elég tapintatlanok vagyunk vele – persze nem szándékosan, mert elég jó a viszonyunk, de önkéntelenül is magyarul beszélünk. Ő megérti mindig, hogy miről van szó, de beszélni nem tud. A bukaresti unokám nem tud magyarul. Őt Róbertnek hívják, 1976-ban született. A fiam ugyan szemrehányást tett azért, mert az unokám minden vakációját itt töltötte nálunk Kolozsváron és, hogy miért nem tanítottuk meg magyarul? Nem tudtuk megtanítani, mert nem volt nekünk arra időnk, hogy úgy foglalkozzunk vele, hogy megtanuljon.

A kisebbik fiam György, ő mérnők. Neki magyar református felesége van, Marikának hívják. Nagyváradon élnek. Két lánya van, Renáta, aki 1989-ben született, és a három évvel kisebb Patrícia. Mind a ketten meg vannak keresztelve, konfirmálnak. Kérdem a fiamtól, hogy: ‘Mégis a pap hogy viszonyul ehhez, hogy te, mint zsidó férj, viszed a lányokat vallásórára?’ Azt mondja, hogy egy nagyon intelligens, valamilyen rangos pap és nagyon jó viszonyban vannak egymással. ‘Ahányszor én viszem a lányokat, mindig legalább 20 percig beszélgetünk. Tiszteljük egymást. Ő nem akar engem megtéríteni, nem beszélünk vallásról.’ A felesége szülei vallásosak, ők ragaszkodtak ahhoz, hogy megkereszteljék a gyermekeket. S a fiam a családi békéért egy szóval nem ellenkezett a keresztelés miatt. Azt mondta: ‘Mikor megnőnek úgy is azt fogják gondolni és csinálni amit ők akarnak, és nem azt amit mi.’ Egyik fiamnak sem fontos a vallás. Számon tartják zsidó származásukat, de nem tartják meg a zsidó szokásokat.

Akik kimentek Izraelbe, mi azt mondtuk azokra, hogy bátor emberek, mert mernek még egyszer egy új életet kezdeni. Mi nem voltunk bátor emberek. Mi azért sem voltunk bátor emberek, mert végső fokon, a férjem egyetemi tanár volt, nekem jó munkahelyem volt, megbecsültek, és egyszerűen féltünk egy új életet kezdeni. Nem beszélve arról, hogy a fiainknak a szakmája olyan, amivel nem tudnak boldogulni Izraelben. De én soha nem is gondoltam arra, hogy kitelepedjek. Én először 1968-ban mentem ki Izraelbe, meglátogatni Irén anyai nagynénémet és a fiát. Arra is kíváncsi voltam, hogy mi van Izraelben, hogyan élnek ott az emberek. Odavoltam mindenért amit láttam, voltak barátaim az egész országban. Nem volt nagy dolog az egész országot bejárni, mert nem olyan nagy. A sivatagon is végig mentem, mert voltam Eilatban. Sem a nagynéném, sem a fia nem élnek már. Csak barátaink vannak ott. Mi sokkal jobban izgulunk az ottani helyzetért, mint ők maguk az izraeliek. Állandóan kapcsolatban vagyunk a barátokkal.

1989 előtt is hitközösségi tag voltam végig, kapcsolatban álltam velük. Aktiváltam, olyan értelemben, hogy szociális munkát végeztem, öregekhez jártam látogatóba. Nem érdekelt, hogy rossz szemmel nézik ezt a pártban. Amúgy is, a hitközség hivatalosan elismert szervezet volt, nem volt mit szóljanak. A férjem nem, a férjem marxista katedrán tanított, nem fért meg ezzel a hitközségi élet. Ráadásul nagyon elfoglalt volt, lekötötte a tanítás. Egyikünk sem volt vallásos. Ez egy furcsa dolog: a hitközösség nem vallási szervezet tulajdonképpen, hanem egy zsidó szervezet, függetlenül a tagok vallásosságától. Van olyan tagja is a hitközségnek, aki kikeresztelkedett vagy például vannak feleségek vagy férjek, akik keresztények és mégis hitközségi tagok.

Az 1989-es forradalom 14 után sem változott a valláshoz való viszonyunk. Kétszer egy évben megyek templomba: amikor a hallottakért imádkozunk vagy amikor a deportálásokra emlékezünk. Máskor a templomba akkor megyek, amikor nem vallási, hanem kulturális rendezvény van. A férjem most sem vallásos ember és mégis minden szombat reggel elmegy imádkozni, hogy kijöjjön a minján. Perfektül beszél jiddisül, mert otthon a családjában úgy beszéltek. Tudja olvasni a Tórát, ami elég ritka dolog ma már. A férjem négy évig volt hitközségi elnök, 1997-2001 között. Bejár a hitközséghez és segít, csak hát kevés az ereje és az ideje hozzá. Ő most is dolgozik, a Babes-Bolyai egyetemen tanít, még mindig vannak doktorátusok amiket ő irányit.

Volt egy zsidó ismerősöm, akinek volt két fia. A kicsi 7-8 éves lehetett, amikor megkérdezte az apját, hogy: ‘Mond apuka, amikor az emberek megöregszenek zsidók lesznek?’ Mert ez így van, ahogy öregszik az ember úgy vonzódik vissza a zsidóságba. Nekem volt egy nagyon jó barátnőm, aki keresztény. A fia orvos és gyerekkora óta végigolvasott minden lágerkönyvet és borzasztóan érdekelte a zsidó közösség is. A barátnőm állította, hogy neki kell legyen valamilyen zsidó őse, mert a fia ezt örökölte. A végén kisütötte azt, hogy talán az apjának az anyja zsidó lehetett, tehát az ő nagyanyja. Azok, akik azelőtt nem törődtek és nem is vallották magukat zsidónak, azok most elkezdtek vonzódni valahogy. Én is így vagyok ezzel. Most sem vagyok vallásos, de egyre többet jelent számomra zsidó származásom. Magyar kultúrában nevelkedtem, magyar az anyanyelvem, de zsidónak tartom magam.

Szójegyzék:

1 A Magyarországhoz tartozó Brassó, Erdéllyel együtt Románia fennhatósága alá került

Az 1920-as trianoni békeszerződés szentesítette Erdély Romániához való csatolását.

2 1918-ban Jugoszlávia kiterjesztette fennhatóságát Magyarország déli részére

Délvidék Jugoszláviához való csatolását az 1920-as trianoni békeszerződés szentesítette.

3 1942 januárjában a Jugoszláviától visszafoglalt vajdasági Újvidéken Grassy Jozsef vezérőrnagy vezette karhatalmi erők 886 embert, köztük 550 zsidót gyilkoltak le, többségüket a jeges Dunába lőve

Az akció eredetileg a helyi partizánok elleni harcnak indult, s csak később alakult át megtorlássá, amelyben főként ártatlan szerbek és zsidók veszítették életüket.

4 (1940-1944)

5 (Cuza-Goga kormány)

6 Hasomer Hacair

7 (Péter-Pál villa)

8 Voitec-törvény

A Voitec-törvény alapján (1946-ban fogadták el) mindazon személyek, akik a háború, deportálás vagy munkaszolgálat miatt félbe kellett szakítsák tanulmányaikat, ún. gyorsított eljárással levizsgázhattak és felvételizhettek középiskolákba vagy egyetemre.

9 Bajor Andor (1927–1991)

Filozófia szakos tanárként egy ideig a Babes – Bolyai Tudományegyetemen tanított, később az Állami Irodalmi és Művészeti Kiadó szerkesztője és a Napsugár gyermeklap szerkesztőségi tagja. Író, publicista, műfordító, szatirikus írásairól, humoreszkjeiről ismert.

10 Tóth Sándor (1919)

Filozófus. 1941-1944 között antifasiszta tevékenysége miatt börtönben ül. 1946-1950 között a kolozsvári Bolyai Tudományegyetem filozófia karán tanul, majd 1985-ig a filozófia tanszéken tanít. Előbb tanársegéd, adjunktus, majd egyetemi docens. 1988-ban Budapestre települ.

11 Benkő Samu (1928)

Művelődéstörténész. Tanári képesítést a kolozsvári Bolyai Tudományegyetem filozófia karán szerez, ahol 1949-1952 között mint tanársegéd dolgozik. 1953-tól a Román Akadémia kolozsvári Történeti Intézetében kutató, 1990-től pedig az Erdélyi Múzeum Egyesület főállású kutatója.

12 (Gáll Ernő)

13 Orbán Viktor

Politikus, a Fidesz – Magyar Polgári Szövetség elnöke. 1998-2002 között Magyarország miniszterelnöke volt.

14 (1989)

Grigoriy Golod

Grigoriy Golod
Kiev
Ukraine
Interviewer: Zhanna Litinskaya
Date of interview: December 2002

Grigoriy Golod lives in a big house that he built himself in the resort town of Vorzel, 40 km from Kiev. There is a swing, a small pergola with grapes and a swimming pool with no water in it - everything has a touch of decay. Grigoriy had a stroke, and his adopted daughter and son-in-law don't look after the house. He is rather upset about it. His house is very clean and there are all modern comforts: hot water and heating. The house is nicely furnished. Grigoriy is a tall thin man with shrewd eyes. He has not quite recovered: he can only walk with a stick and makes pauses while talking, but he has bright memories.

My family background
Growing up
My school years
The war begins
Post-war
Glossary

My family background

Our family comes from Khvoyniki near Gomel in Belarus. I never met my grandparents. All I know is that my grandfather on my father's side, Gershl Golod, was a tailor. There must have been a conflict in my father's family because my father never told me about them. When I asked him once he replied that they were bad people, and he didn't want to talk about them. I remember that my father's brother came to see my father once, and they had a terrible argument. My father's brother left, and some money and valuables disappeared from our house with him.

My father, Iosif Golod, was born in Khvoyniki in 1902. Khvoyniki was a small village in Belarus. There were 30 Jewish families, who peacefully resided in the village. The Jews were craftsmen. There were Russian, Belarus and Polish inhabitants in the village, and all nationalities respected each other's traditions and faith. There was a synagogue and a cheder in the village. Like all other Jewish boys my father finished cheder and Jewish elementary school. When he was 14 he took over his father's profession. He became a tailor and left his parents' house for good. He rented a room. He had a sewing machine and quite a few clients.

My mother's parents, Bencion and Hana also lived in Khvoyniki. My grandfather owned a haberdashery. The family was quite wealthy. My mother told me that they lived in a big two-storied house with the store on the first floor. They had a housemaid and a cook. They didn't grow any vegetables or keep livestock. They could afford to buy all necessary food at the market. The family was only moderately religious: they seldom went to the synagogue and only observed bigger holidays. My mother had some brothers and sisters, but I only knew her younger sister, Sarah.

Khvoyniki was a small village, but pogroms 1 happened there every now and then. Bandits came to the village to rob its inhabitants of their meagre belongings. During a pogrom in Khvoyniki in 1918, arranged by Petliura soldiers 2, my grandparents and my mother's sisters and brothers were killed. The bandits demanded food and valuables. My grandmother gave them all she had, but then the bandits killed the whole family stabbing them with bayonets. Only my mother and Sarah survived. My mother was pregnant at that time and hiding in the attic. Sarah ran to the fields in the outskirts of the village. She was followed by Petliura military who were shooting at her. Sarah was wounded but a Belarus family gave her shelter and nursed her back to health. After the revolution of 1917

After that Sarah lived in Gomel. She married Haim Rozhavskiy, a Jewish man. In 1937 they moved to Kiev, bought a small room and took to their business. He was a tailor, and she was a dressmaker. They didn't have any children due to Sarah's wounds from the pogrom. The bullet had injured some vital organs and wasn't removed from her body until 1956. During the Great Patriotic War 3 Sarah and her husband were in evacuation. After the war they returned to Kiev. Sarah and her husband died in the middle of the 1980s.

My mother, Enta, was born in 1903. I don't know where she studied, but she had some education: she could read and write in Russian and Yiddish and told me about outstanding Russian writers. She may have finished a grammar school. She had known my future father since they were children. They fell in love with one another in their teens and got married in 1918, before the pogrom during which my mother's parents died. They had a traditional Jewish wedding with a chuppah and a rabbi, a number of guests and klezmer musicians. My parents settled down in my grandfather's house. My older brother, David, was born in 1919. It was hard for my mother to live in Khvoyniki where her family had perished. She convinced my father to move to Kiev. They sold their house, hired a horse-driven cab, moved to Kiev in 1922 and bought an apartment there.

Growing up

I was born in Kiev on 4th August 1922. We lived in Fundukleevskaya Street in the center of the city. After Lenin died (2) the street was named after him. I have dim memories of or apartment: there was a room with my father's Singer sewing machine and his desk for cutting fabrics in the middle of the room. My father didn't allow me to touch his sewing machine because it was his precious working tool. He worked as a fabric cutter at the garment factory and did some work at home to make some extra money. My mother also did some sewing at home for her clients. When my father was at work she allowed me to turn the wheel of my father's sewing machine.

There was also a small kitchen with a kerosene stove where my mother did her cooking. My sister, Sima, was born in this apartment in 1925, and Betia followed in 1927. When I was 5 years old we moved to another apartment because our previous apartment was expropriated by the town authorities and given to an aviation club. Although there were two rooms this apartment was worse than our previous one: it was in the basement of a house, there was no kitchen, the stove was in one of the rooms and the stack came out through the window.

Our father was a gloomy and withdrawn man. I don't remember him playing or talking with his children after he came home from work. He hardly ever talked with our mother either. She often cried, and only when I grew up did I get to know that my father was unfaithful to her. He always had other women. My mother was sickly, even when she was young, and when she grew older she developed heart problems. Every now and then she got pale and gasped for breath. She went to bed, and I was standing beside her bed fearing that she might die. I loved my mother more than anybody in the world. My father provided well for the family and my mother could have been a housewife, but she worked at home nonetheless. She was proud and independent. I often accompanied her when she went to see her clients, and they jokingly called me 'Mom's fiancé'. She had Jewish, Russian and Ukrainian clients.

My father cared for my mother in his own way. He had a Ukrainian friend in Marianovka named Tkachenko, who came to Khvoyniki to sell pork and buy essential goods. When our academic year at school was over we all, except for my father, went to Marianovka on a horse- driven cart. We had a stock of food with us and spent our summer vacations living in the house of Tkachenko. We went to the woods and to the river. Our landlord's son, Grigoriy, became my friend. We were the same age. In the late 1930s, Grigoriy came to work at a plant in Khvoyniki and lived with us. We enjoyed spending time together in the village and didn't question our national origin. I also had Ukrainian friends in town. Some of them became my friends for a lifetime.

My parents weren't religious. They spoke Yiddish to one another and Russian to us [children], but we also knew Yiddish well. My father worked on Saturdays. We didn't know a thing about kosher food. We only celebrated Pesach. Our father brought matzah home in advance. My mother made gefilte fish that were so delicious that I can still remember its smell and taste. She also made chicken broth, fruit jelly and pastries from matzah flour. On Pesach my father came home early, washed himself, put on a clean shirt and the family sat down at the table. We just had a festive dinner, he never told us about the holiday or any other Jewish traditions or holidays.

Sometimes my mother's sister, Sarah, invited us on holidays. Her family was truly religious. Her husband Haim had tallit, tefillin and ancient thick Yiddish books in heavy bindings. Haim worked as a tailor at the children's department store and couldn't go to the synagogue every day, but he prayed at home. I remember how he and Sarah gave us sweets and money on Chanukkah. Uncle Haim went to the Brodskiy Synagogue in the center of Kiev. Sometimes he gave me tickets for the amateur Jewish theater at the synagogue - they mainly gave performances on Purim.

Haim and Sarah took work back home and were always concerned that a tax inspector might visit them. In the late 1920s the Soviet power persecuted small businesses. Audits were a common practice to force private businessmen to go to work at state enterprises rather than develop their own businesses. Heavy taxation and endless audits and penalties forced businessmen to either close their shops or conceal their work activities from authorities. When my mother and I were visiting them my mother always knocked on their window and only after did that they open the door. My mother wasn't afraid, even though she also did some work at home. She used to say that no inspector would want to come to the terrible basement where we lived. She was right, as no auditors ever visited us in all those years when we lived in this apartment.

My school years

I was a sickly boy. I started going to the Jewish lower secondary school in Shevchenko Boulevard in 1931. It was an ordinary secondary school with the only difference that we studied in Yiddish. My schoolmates were Jewish children, but I also had Russian friends, who lived in our neighborhood.

I remember the famine of 1933 [the famine in Ukraine] 43. My father bought potato peels and makukha [wastes from sunflower oil production] which was our only food for a long while. My father also received some honey bread at the factory, but it tasted like machine oil rather than honey. He divided it into equal parts to give it to us. There were four beggars in our yard in the corner of Lenin and Chkalov Streets: two men and two women. One woman had an open putrefying injury on her leg which was a terrible sight. Later one man and woman died, and their corpses were lying beside their companions for a whole day. Then coupons for 400 grams of bread were introduced and things became slightly better. My sisters and I went to get the bread and usually there was a smaller piece of makeweight bread in the ration. Sometimes we ate on our way home, and sometimes we gave this makeweight of bread to the beggars. During those hard times Sarah and Haim took our sister Sima to their home. She stayed with them afterwards. They simply adored her and were raising her like their own daughter.

I studied well, but I often got poor marks. When I was in the 5th grade our Jewish school was closed, like the schools of many other nationalities. The Soviet power led a struggle against religion 5 that way. Over the next two years I went to three different schools. I was a trouble-maker and expelled from every school. However, I became a pioneer and was responsible for the collection of scrap. Before finishing school I became a Komsomol 6 member because my father said it would be good for my future career. I remember receiving a Komsomol membership card in the district Komsomol committee. It was quite a festive ceremony.

I had many Ukrainian and Russian friends. In the schools where I studied the last years of my education there were only a few Jewish children, and I didn't select friends on the basis of nationality. My friends and I attended an aviation club where we made replicas of airplanes that we set off on Trukhanov island on the Dnipro River. I was also fond of football and liked to go to football matches. Sometimes my father bought me a ticket, but when I had no ticket I joined a bunch of friends and we managed to get into the stadium without tickets.

My friends and I also went to parades on 1st May and 7th November, the anniversary of the October Revolution 7. After parades we went to dance clubs. I dreamed of going to university after finishing school, but my mother was often ill and couldn't work and my father distanced himself from the family. My older brother, David, was a mechanic at the telephone station, and I got a job as a courier at the district financial department. I was to deliver receipts and subpoenas, and I enjoyed my work. I met with my friends afterwards and always had my dinner waiting for me on the table, covered with a white napkin, when I came home from work.

In 1939 my mother died. After another row with my father she had a heart attack. She was taken to hospital where she died shortly after. David served in the Northern Navy, so I was the oldest in the family and felt responsible for my sisters. I remember my mother's funeral: the neighbors were crying but nobody said a prayer and there was no rabbi. My mother was carried out of the house and to the Jewish cemetery. We went there on foot and returned in the evening. When we were having dinner with my father his mistress came. I knew about her from our neighbors and believed her to be the cause of my mother's death.

She wanted my younger sister, Betia, to live with her. Now I understand that she wanted to help us, but back then I just told her to get out of our house. I had a terrible argument with my father and even made an attempt to fight with him after having a bit of vodka. The memory of my mother stopped me from doing so. Later my friend Shurka and I went to break the windows of this woman's home. I don't know her name. Yiddish and everything else associated with my Jewish identity died along with my mother. I was a typical Soviet internationalist and atheist.

When my father became a widower we expected him to get married again, but as it often happens after losing one's wife, he began to miss her bitterly. He didn't remarry. He met with his mistress, but he never brought her home. He got a job at a shop in Lenin Street and she often waited for him there at the end of his working day.

After my mother died I began to look for a better-paid job. I became an apprentice to a lathe mechanic at the 43rd Aviation Plant. I commuted to work by tram. At that time one could be severely punished for being late for work. Public transportation was overcrowded, so I often went hanging on the rear of a tram. I got a good salary. Although my relationship with my father was tense, I gave him a part of my salary for my sisters' food. He bought me boots and a suit from my first salary.

We had a neighbor, a German woman called Clara, who had a daughter named Inga. Inga was confined to bed; she was kind of paralyzed. I often went to see her: I read books to her and told her about the movies I had seen. I liked the girl a lot and dreamed that I would get some magic medicine that would cure her.

I had friends at the plant. Lyonia Kornin, my co-worker, introduced me to his friends. They were four Russian men, including Lyonia, one Jewish men and four Jewish girls: the sisters Ida, Genia, Sonia and Mirrah Geihtman. We often got together at the sisters' home. Their old hunchbacked mother enjoyed seeing us and often treated us to some food. We drank a little beer or wine, played cards and dominoes, had tea and sweets and went to a discotheque. That's how I met Mirrah Geihtman, my future wife. Her father perished during the Civil Wars 8. She came from a Jewish family, but they weren't religious. They only spoke Russian and didn't observe any traditions. I liked Mirrah a lot, but her mother didn't really want me to be Mirrah's friend. I guess, she wanted a wealthy fiancé for her daughter while I, in her opinion, was poor and didn't deserve her daughter. We liked going to the cinema and watched all popular Soviet movies of the time: 'Tractor- Drivers', 'Circus', 'The Merry Guys' and others. They were nice movies. In general, the bunch of us led a merry life.

The war begins

We were far from being interested in politics and didn't even notice that in 1937 people began to disappear - the period of Stalin's repression began [the so-called Great Terror] 9. Some workers at the plant were arrested as enemies of the people. We had neighbors one floor up: a barber, his wife and daughter. I don't know what wrong he might have done or said, but one night he was arrested and a few days later his wife and daughter were taken away. Other neighbors stole all their belongings after they were gone. Our janitor, Gladkikh, took their big piano. We never saw them again. Clara and Inga also disappeared. We were young and careless and didn't give much thought to what was going on. We thought that the authorities knew what they were doing and that they probably were just and fair in their actions.

There were meetings at the plant where we were told about Hitler and a likely war. We were told how quickly the Germans occupied countries, but nobody could believe that they would dare to attack our country. Information of this kind was not released to the public. Meetings were only held at military enterprises and in military organizations. Our plant was a military enterprise, and its management was supposed to inform us on any major case so that we were aware of how to behave in the case of a war. When our troops entered Western Ukraine in 1940 the people in our house didn't sleep for a whole night - there were a few military that rose alarm. Special military couriers notified military units on any military alarms.

Although there were discussions about the war and military trainings, we didn't quite believe in the possibility of a war. We were sure that our country was strong and powerful enough to prevent any attack. Of course, the war came as a surprise. Of course, the war came as a surprise. On the night of 22nd June 1941 I worked a nightshift at the plant. The first bomb fell on a training airfield near our plant. The plane was flying over our plant for quite some time making a terrible noise. We even saw swastikas on its body.

I worked at the military plant and its employees weren't subject to recruitment to the army. For the next five days we excavated trenches and began to disassembly our equipment preparing it for evacuation. Before our departure we were allowed to drop by our homes to pack our things. We were short of time, so I grabbed whatever I could. By that time my father had already been recruited to the Territorial Army - they were volunteers that were on the frontline enabling our regular army to take time to retreat. Most of them perished, but he happened to be at home at the moment. My father left me his warm coat that he had had for many years, and we said goodbye. It wasn't the warmest farewell, but I still felt that my father was the closest person I had back then. My sisters were visiting relatives. I didn't see Mirrah either; she and her mother were already in evacuation. There was a railroad spur near the plant where we loaded the equipment of the plant onto open platforms and got in railcars ourselves.

The trip took us almost a month. We reached Novosibirsk [2,500 km east of Kiev] where we unloaded our things onto the site of the Chkalov 10 Aviation Plant. Families and younger girls got accommodation in a neighborhood of the town and we stayed in barracks. There were young people from many aviation enterprises from all over the country. There was a young man from Leningrad and another one from Riga [Latvia]. Grigoriy Tkachenko, who was a friend of mine when we were children, was also in evacuation with me. I got along well with him, although we weren't closest friends any longer. We assembled equipment units, installed them under tents and started manufacturing equipment for the military aviation. I made pistols for plane engines. After a day's work we just fell onto our plank beds. There were no water or food supplies. We worked three shifts, and I slept at my work place to save time. It was an outburst of enthusiasm to work for the victory of our people.

I had no information about my family. Once, in August 1941, I received a letter which said that Sima and Aunt Sarah evacuated to Alma-Ata [Kazakhstan], and Betia was taken by my father's mistress. She wanted my father to go with them, but my father refused and stayed in Kiev - he wanted to defend his hometown. I stayed in Novosibirsk for a few months. Then I decided that if I went to the front and perished, there would be nobody to grieve for me, but if I was to survive, I would surely become a hero. I went to the registry office, applied to go to the front and left on 17th November 1941.

I stayed at the gathering post for 20 days. At the beginning of December we got onto the train and went to the training camp of the 21st Ski Brigade located in the old barracks of the tsarist army. [Editor's note: The Ski Brigade consisted of military troops moving on skies and mobiles in winter conditions.]

We were trained to ski and shoot for a month and a half, and then I was assigned to a mortar platoon. We were heading for the Bologoye station of the Northwestern front near Leningrad. We walked 400 kilometers to the town of Staraya Russa. We had warm clothing: heavy coats, trousers lined with cotton wool, hats, woolen gloves and wool hat liners. We dragged our machine guns on scrapers. There was a special military unit following us to make sure that nobody remained behind. They declared those that remained behind deserters. I rubbed my heel sore, but had to ignore the pain. When we reached the town I was sent to hospital. After I was released I was assigned to a field bakery as a laborer. It baked bread for the division, and I got sufficient food there. I worked there for a year and a half until I got better.

When it was time for me to return to my former military unit I didn't find it at the old address - it had moved somewhere else. I returned to the bakery. After a few days I moved to the front in the Kursk curve with the 9th Air Force infantry division. I was assigned to the company of the machine gunners of the division. We were trained and arrived at the frontline on 12th July 1943 at Stepnoy, and, later at the Ukrainian front. When we arrived there was action near Prokhorovka. Before my first battle I became a member of the Communist Party without thinking very much about it. The procedure was such that we were given party membership cards without any ceremonies. Everybody in the army wanted to become a party member.

On 16th July we were brought into action. I took part in the liberation of Ukraine from the fascists: I was in Poltava, Kharkov, Kremenchug, Dnepropetrovsk, Alexandria, Kirovograd and other towns. I was promoted to private first class and then junior sergeant. After the commanding officer of our platoon was killed, I replaced him. In Alexandria I was awarded a medal 'For Courage', and I received the order of the 'Red Banner' for the liberation of Kirovograd. The war was coming to an end.

In the spring of 1944 the commander of our division assigned me to be an orderly for Chief of General Staff Colonel Melnichenko. I was his orderly until May 1944. Then I was sent to a military infantry college. In Tashkent, Uzbekistan [2,500 km from Ukraine], we were told to get off the train and searched - they told us to give away our weapons and knives. I reached Ashgabat. I stayed there until the end of the war and served in the army for some time after the Great Patriotic War was over. 9th May 1945 [the end of the war] was a great event. I was a cadet and we [men] had tears in our eyes. We hugged each other and were as happy as one can be. We were to become professional military and spent a lot of time doing physical training, learning about new military equipment and techniques. We lived in barracks - 40 cadets in one huge facility with bunk beds. I was the only Jew, but nobody cared about nationality. There were representatives of over 20 nationalities from all over the USSR.

Post-war

When I was in college I received a letter from my brother David from hospital. He had lost his leg and arm at the front. He asked me to write a permit for the return of our apartment, as I had been the last one to leave at the beginning of the war. I wrote the document and had it stamped at the headquarters of the division. He got the permit, returned home and married Ida, one of our friends. She and her mother moved into our apartment.

David sold fabrics that his wife Ida and her mother brought from Moscow. There were no fabrics sold in stores, and he sold them at a higher price. David didn't like this work, but his wife and her mother insisted that he did it for them. He came home from the market drunk every evening and threw 3 and 5 ruble banknotes onto the sofa. It was hard for me to watch him being so degraded.

I finished college at the beginning of 1947 and got a one-month leave. I went to Kiev. I stayed with my brother for two days. My return home was bitter. Our neighbors came to see me. One of them, Luba, who was a cleaning woman during the occupation, told us that my father and a friend of his came back home when the Germans were in the city. Our janitor, Gladkih, reported on them to the Germans. They hung them in the central square to frighten the others. They were hanging there for several days. I tried to find the janitor to take revenge for my father, but he had disappeared.

A Jewish woman, Tsylia, and her son Yura, who was my friend before the war, lived in our street. Her Russian husband worked at the radio committee. When the Germans came to take away the Jews in our neighborhood her husband stood by her. He was shot along with Tsylia and Yura in the yard of their house.

My sister Sima and Aunt Sarah were still in evacuation. Betia returned to Kiev from evacuation. She lived with my father's mistress. Betia didn't receive any education. She worked at a dry cleaner's shop. She married Michael Ostrovskiy, a Jewish man, and they had a daughter, Luba. Betia, her husband and their daughter Luba moved to New York in 1987. David was selling fabrics that his wife Ida and her mother brought from Moscow. There were no fabrics sold in stores and he sold them at higher price. David didn't want this work, but his wife and her mother insisted that he did this work for them. He came home from the market drunk every evening and threw 3 and 5-ruble banknotes on the sofa. It was hard for me to watch him so degraded.

Sima and Aunt Sarah returned from evacuation in 1947. Sima finished a trade school and worked at a plant. In the 1950s she married Boris Zisels, a nice Jewish man, and they had a son, Joseph. Aunt Sarah died in the 1980s. Sima treated her like a mother. I can't explain why, but we didn't communicate with them. Sima, her husband and son moved to America in 1992.

Mirrah heard that I had returned to Kiev from our mutual acquaintance and came to see me on the 3rd day. We began to see each other. In Kiev I fell ill with malaria and I prolonged my leave for two months. I had to go to hospital. When I was released Mirrah and her mother came to pick me up. Her mother changed her mind about me - there weren't many admirers left after the war, and she was glad that I was there.

Their family lived in a big room. Mirrah's mother and father slept on a bed near the door, Mirrah slept on her bed and I slept on the sofa. After a few days Mirrah told her mother that she didn't want to sleep apart from me. Her mother got angry, but the following night Mirrah came to sleep on the sofa next to me. This lasted for several days. During the day Mirrah and I went for walks and in the evening we went to the Opera House or to the Musical Comedy Theater.

Mirrah's uncle had connections in the city. He arranged a 10-day extension of my leave. It was a difficult period in the country. There was a famine almost like the one in 1933. My situation was not too bad: I received tinned meat, butter, candy and cereals through my officer's coupons. One day I came to the commandant's office to collect my officer's coupons and the commandant congratulated me on my marriage. I didn't understand a thing first, but when I opened my passport I saw a marriage stamp of the civil registry office. I realized that Mirrah's mother had taken my passport to have it stamped for a bribe while Mirrah and I were sleeping. I felt awe-struck, but I didn't say anything to her.

When it was time for me to leave I told Mirrah that she was my wife and had to go with me. Her mother was mad at me and didn't let her go. I left on my own. In Ashgabat I became the commandant of a platoon. I served for some time, and then I was sent to an advanced officer training school in Fergana [Uzbekistan]. Mirrah joined me - she left after she had a row with her mother. We rented a room near the fortress. I covered our bed with my uniform coat and we lived there for two weeks.

When we returned to Ashgabat I became the commanding officer of a company. We rented a room in a house near the military unit. Our landlady had a big family: three daughters, two sons and their children. One night in 1948, when we were asleep, a terrible earthquake happened. Mirrah fell out of the bed. A beam fell on my arm and broke it. All four children of our landlady perished, but she survived. She was 85 years old. My company perished under the debris of the barrack - all except for one platoon that I had punished and ordered to march on the parade ground. They survived. I was severely injured and sent to hospital in Tashkent. After I recovered a medical commission issued a certificate for me stating that I was partially fit for service in the army. Mirrah returned to Kiev, because she didn't have a place to live while I was in hospital. The same year she gave birth to our son, Yuri. She wasn't going to come where I was. Her mother said that the child wouldn't feel comfortable in Turkmenistan without the necessary living conditions.

I was to be sent to serve in Eastern Germany, but officers had to go there with their families. At that time I had a girlfriend named Lena. I said goodbye to her and went to the headquarters in Tashkent to have my documents processed for Germany. At the headquarters I confessed that I had a wife, but that we were separated and she wasn't going to Germany with me. Instead of Germany I was assigned to a disciplinary battalion for military criminals. I became the commander of a company there. Mirrah came to me with her mother and our small son, Yuri. Everything would have been fine if it hadn't been for Mirrah's mother, who was continuously setting Mirrah against me. She demanded that I retired from the army to go back to Kiev. I explained to her that I was a professional military and that the state spent a lot of money on my education. I told her that if I decided to retire from the army, the Soviet authorities might view it as a desertion and I might get into prison. She didn't understand and left. Mirrah followed her shortly afterwards with the excuse that there were better climatic conditions in Kiev for Yuri.

At that time Lena, my girlfriend, went to see my commander of the military unit to complain about me. She decided that Germany was an excuse for me to leave her. The commander called me and asked whether I knew the girl. I said that I saw her for the first time. If I had told the truth I would have been charged of immoral conduct, expelled from the Party and dismissed from the army. My commanders wanted to catch me and sent a man to keep me under surveillance.

Mirrah didn't return, and I didn't have an opportunity to communicate with my son. He wasn't eager to see me - he was taught not to think good of me. I met a nice Russian woman, Taisia Ogasian. She came from Voronezh, a small Russian town. She finished a secondary school and an accounting course. She was in evacuation in Tashkent and worked as an accountant. After the war she stayed in Tashkent. Taisia was married. Her husband perished at the front. Her mother was raising their daughter. We began to see each other and fell in love. Taisia came to live with me. I wrote Mirrah in Kiev to ask her for a divorce. She wrote that I was unfaithful and immoral to my military unit.

It was a customary thing in the former USSR to have personal issues resolved by public or party organizations. There were even administrative penalties for immoral conduct applied to those that broke the rules. Adultery was not tolerated by the public. I got a strict reprimand, which was incorporated in my personal files. That meant that I couldn't have any further promotions. I couldn't stay at the disciplinary battalion either, as I was considered unreliable. I was sent to a military office in Tikhmirskiy kishlak [Uzbek for village] near Bukhara.

The military commandant there was an Uzbek man, Lieutenant-Colonel Ichkerov. He didn't know Russian. The other employees of the office were Russian. Very soon I realized that Ichkerov took advantage of our ignorance. Uzbeks came to talk with him about their children's service in the army. He accepted bribes for the release from service in the army. I never accepted any gifts and people respected and liked me. I was the only Jew there, but I never faced any anti-Semitism throughout my service. I forgot about my Jewish identity - we were all equal and supported each other. Taisia was with me. She worked as an accountant in various offices. We couldn't get married, because Mirrah didn't respond to my numerous requests to divorce me.

In 1956 when 300,000 officers were dismissed from the army at Khrushchev's 11 order, including me, and Taisia and I went back to Kiev. We arrived on 7th November. I was wearing summer shoes, and she wore a summer dress. First of all I went to see my brother David. It turned out that he had passed away in 1950. He died of gangrene.

I went to the district party committee to get registered and get a job. They refused to register me or issue a residential permit 12 because I wasn't recruited to the army. I couldn't get a job without a residential approval. I spent a few months without a job or a place to live. My pre-war friend, Shura, gave us a temporary shelter. I began to look for residential opportunities in the outskirts of the city. I met a frontline comrade of mine who was the director of the training base of the Academy of Sciences in Vorzel, a town where Kievites usually spent their summer vacations.

He employed me. I was responsible for filling tractors with fuel. We got a residential permit to reside in Vorzel and a plot of land to build a house. One part of the house was completed in 1959. In 1961 Mirrah finally gave me a divorce. Although I had always sent her money to provide for my son, she said in court that I didn't give them money. The court made the decision that I was to pay 50% alimony from my salary instead of the standard 25%.

I got a job at a scientific research institute in Kiev. I was a mechanic until I retired. I was only a formal party member before I retired - I took no interest in any party activities. My membership was limited to the payment of monthly fees and attendance of party meetings. I usually read a newspaper at such meetings. Attendance was compulsory.

Taisia and I got along well. Her daughter, Rimma, who lived in the north with her husband, came to us when she gave birth to her baby. Regretfully she died at childbirth in 1972. Taisia and I adopted her daughter, Natasha. Rimma's husband had no objections because he got remarried shortly after Rimma died. When Natasha grew up I told her that I was her adoptive father. She hugged and kissed me and said, 'You've always been and will always be my Daddy'.

I never saw Mirrah after the trial in 1961 and don't want to know anything about her anyways. My son Yuri came to see me at the institute several times to ask for money. While I was giving him money he came to see me, but when I fell ill he stopped even calling me. He went to study at the Institute of Forestry in Moscow in the 1970s. He got married and stayed in Moscow. He lives in Moscow Region with his wife and two children: Pavel and Nikita. He never came to visit me.

My wife Taisia died in 1999. Natasha loves me dearly and her daughter, Katia, and husband, Yuri, are my family. We live together. I have refurbished my house many times. I am leaving it to Natasha. A year ago I had a stroke. Natasha quit her job to look after me. She helped me to recover, and I am learning to walk and speak again.

In the 1990s the Party was dismissed, and I threw my party membership card away. Perestroika was a breath of fresh air and freedom. We could read books that were not allowed before, speak our mind and hear about life abroad. We were even allowed to travel, but most people couldn't due to lack of money. Jews began to feel better though. There are Jewish organizations and newspapers. The synagogues are open, and there are many opportunities for people to lead a free life.

In recent years I've had a lot of free time and I've turned to the history of my family and Jewish people. I've never been interested in Jewish history or religion in my life, but now I feel a need to be closer to it. I receive Jewish newspapers and I'm a member of the Association of Jewish Culture. Natasha respects my belief, and on Pesach she buys matzah and cooks traditional Jewish food for me. I've never faced anti-Semitism in my life. If it weren't for my condition I would go to live in Israel. But I don't want to go there because I'm an invalid. I sympathize with the people of Israel. Many innocent people die - I can understand what they feel. I've been in the war and know what it's like.

Glossary

1 Pogroms in Ukraine

In the 1920s there were many anti-Semitic gangs in Ukraine. They killed Jews and burnt their houses, they robbed their houses, raped women and killed children.

2 Petliura, Simon (1879-1926)

Ukrainian politician, member of the Ukrainian Social Democratic Working Party, one of the leaders of Centralnaya Rada (Central Council), the national government of Ukraine (1917-1918). Military units under his command killed Jews during the Civil War in Ukraine. In the Soviet-Polish war he was on the side of Poland; in 1920 he emigrated. He was killed in Paris by the Jewish nationalist Schwarzbard in revenge for the pogroms against Jews in Ukraine.

3 Great Patriotic War

On 22nd June 1941 at 5 o'clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War. The German blitzkrieg, known as Operation Barbarossa, nearly succeeded in breaking the Soviet Union in the months that followed. Caught unprepared, the Soviet forces lost whole armies and vast quantities of equipment to the German onslaught in the first weeks of the war. By November 1941 the German army had seized the Ukrainian Republic, besieged Leningrad, the Soviet Union's second largest city, and threatened Moscow itself. The war ended for the Soviet Union on 9th May 1945.

4 Famine in Ukraine

In 1920 a deliberate famine was introduced in the Ukraine causing the death of millions of people. It was arranged in order to suppress those protesting peasants who did not want to join the collective farms. There was another dreadful deliberate famine in 1930-1934 in the Ukraine. The authorities took away the last food products from the peasants. People were dying in the streets, whole villages became deserted. The authorities arranged this specifically to suppress the rebellious peasants who did not want to accept Soviet power and join collective farms.

5 Struggle against religion

The 1930s was a time of anti-religion struggle in the USSR. In those years it was not safe to go to synagogue or to church. Places of worship, statues of saints, etc. were removed; rabbis, Orthodox and Roman Catholic priests disappeared behind KGB walls.

6 Komsomol

Communist youth political organization created in 1918. The task of the Komsomol was to spread of the ideas of communism and involve the worker and peasant youth in building the Soviet Union. The Komsomol also aimed at giving a communist upbringing by involving the worker youth in the political struggle, supplemented by theoretical education. The Komsomol was more popular than the Communist Party because with its aim of education people could accept uninitiated young proletarians, whereas party members had to have at least a minimal political qualification.

7 October Revolution Day

October 25 (according to the old calendar), 1917 went down in history as victory day for the Great October Socialist Revolution in Russia. This day is the most significant date in the history of the USSR. Today the anniversary is celebrated as 'Day of Accord and Reconciliation' on November 7.

8 Civil War (1918-1920)

The Civil War between the Reds (the Bolsheviks) and the Whites (the anti-Bolsheviks), which broke out in early 1918, ravaged Russia until 1920. The Whites represented all shades of anti-communist groups - Russian army units from World War I, led by anti-Bolshevik officers, by anti-Bolshevik volunteers and some Mensheviks and Social Revolutionaries. Several of their leaders favored setting up a military dictatorship, but few were outspoken tsarists. Atrocities were committed throughout the Civil War by both sides. The Civil War ended with Bolshevik military victory, thanks to the lack of cooperation among the various White commanders and to the reorganization of the Red forces after Trotsky became commissar for war. It was won, however, only at the price of immense sacrifice; by 1920 Russia was ruined and devastated. In 1920 industrial production was reduced to 14% and agriculture to 50% as compared to 1913.

9 Great Terror (1934-1938)

During the Great Terror, or Great Purges, which included the notorious show trials of Stalin's former Bolshevik opponents in 1936-1938 and reached its peak in 1937 and 1938, millions of innocent Soviet citizens were sent off to labor camps or killed in prison. The major targets of the Great Terror were communists. Over half of the people who were arrested were members of the party at the time of their arrest. The armed forces, the Communist Party, and the government in general were purged of all allegedly dissident persons; the victims were generally sentenced to death or to long terms of hard labor. Much of the purge was carried out in secret, and only a few cases were tried in public 'show trials'. By the time the terror subsided in 1939, Stalin had managed to bring both the party and the public to a state of complete submission to his rule. Soviet society was so atomized and the people so fearful of reprisals that mass arrests were no longer necessary. Stalin ruled as absolute dictator of the Soviet Union until his death in March 1953.

10 Chkalov, Valery (1904-1938)

Russian test pilot, and hero of the Soviet Union. He developed several advanced aerobatic moves. In 1936- 37 he conducted continuous, no-land flights between Moscow and Udd island (the Far East) and Moscow - North Pole - Vancouver (US). His plane crashed during a test flight.

11 Khrushchev, Nikita (1894-1971)

Soviet communist leader. After Stalin's death in 1953, he became first secretary of the Central Committee, in effect the head of the Communist Party of the USSR. In 1956, during the 20th Party Congress, Khrushchev took an unprecedented step and denounced Stalin and his methods. He was deposed as premier and party head in October 1964. In 1966 he was dropped from the Party's Central Committee.

12 Residence permit

The Soviet authorities restricted freedom of travel within the USSR through the residence permit and kept everybody's whereabouts under control. Every individual in the USSR needed residential registration; this was a stamp in the passport giving the permanent address of the individual. It was impossible to find a job, or even to travel within the country, without such a stamp. In order to register at somebody else's apartment one had to be a close relative and if each resident of the apartment had at least 8 square meters to themselves.

Sophia Belotserkovskaya

Sophia Belotserkovskaya
Kiev
Ukraine
Interviewer: Zhanna Litinskaya
Date of interview: June 2003

Sophia Belotserkovskaya lives in a small one-bedroom apartment in one of the central districts of Kiev. She is lame and has problems walking. One can tell that it is difficult for her to keep her apartment clean and tidy. She has a visiting nurse/housemaid from Hesed to help her with the housekeeping. When Sophia met me she wore a fancy dress with Ukrainian embroidery and a coral necklace. There are many books, old magazines and theater posters in her apartment. Sophia was prepared for our meeting. She felt very happy to speak about her parents and in particular, about their contribution to Ukrainian art and theater.

Family background
Growing up
During the war
Post-war
Glossary

Family background

My mother, Rachil Belotserkovskaya [nee Shukhman], came from an artistic family. My maternal grandfather, Avraam Shukhman, born in Odessa 1 around 1870, sang in the Odessa Opera Theater. He had a very rare timbre of voice: dramatic tenor. My mother told me that once a well-known Christian activist called Ioahn Kronshtadski from Saint- Petersburg visited Odessa. He went to the opera where he heard my grandfather sing. He liked him so much that he met him and invited him to sing in a church choir. However, in order to do this my grandfather would have needed to convert to Christianity. My grandfather said, 'I shall die with the same faith I was born with'.

My grandfather was a self-educated person. He was religious, went to the synagogue and observed Jewish traditions. My mother's family celebrated Sabbath and all Jewish holidays and followed the kashrut. However, it was more like a tribute to old traditions and the education that my grandparents got from their families. It was probably due to my grandfather's surrounding and his work in the opera. At least all my mother told me was associated with the theater and artistic surrounding that she was raised in.

I know that my mother's family lived in a three-bedroom apartment in the center of Odessa. They had a grand piano, which was the focus of their life. My grandmother Sophia Shukhman - I don't remember her maiden name -- was a housewife. She died around 1910. My grandfather lived eight years longer. After his wife died he became very sickly and it was hard for him to sing. He became the director of the music library of the theater. During the Revolution of 1917 2 and the Civil War 3, the time of attacks of gangs 4 and pogroms 5, the family found shelter in their Russian neighbors' houses. It was a hard time. My grandfather actually died of hunger and diseases in 1918.

My maternal grandparents had three children: my mother was the oldest. She had two brothers: Yakov, born in 1900, and Grigori, born in 1902. They got secular education. Their parents spoke Yiddish and Russian. The children spoke both languages. I don't know exactly where my mother's brothers studied, but they were intelligent people. Yakov was an accountant. He lived in Odessa with his family, but we hardly ever communicated with them. During the Great Patriotic War 6 he was at the front. Yakov and his wife Emma died in Odessa in the 1970s. Their children Arkadi, born in the 1920s and Semyon and Vladimir, both born in the 1930s, moved to America with their families in the late 1970s. I'm not in contact with them. All I know is that they got some technical education and worked as engineers.

Grigori got fond of revolutionary ideas. When the Reds 7 came to town he left with one of their units. He took part in combat actions during the Civil War. He also joined the Communist Party at that time. After the Civil War Uncle Grigori was sent to the border with Romania where he served in a frontier unit. In 1937 [during the so-called Great Terror] 8 he was arrested and charged of espionage like thousands of other innocent people. He was taken to an investigation cell in Kiev where he was tortured and abused. He was devoted to the Soviet regime nonetheless and believed everything that happened to him to be a mistake. In 1939, when Yezhov 9 was arrested and Beriya 10 replaced him, my uncle was released. He was lucky because in order to make accusations about Yezhov the authorities reviewed many cases and released prisoners. During the Great Patriotic War Uncle Grigori served with SMERSH [Editor's note: special secret military unit for the elimination of spies; lit. translation: 'Death to spies']. After the war he became a professional military. He moved with his wife Polina and their children Stanislav and Nadia [Nadezha] from town to town as his service required. After his demobilization from the army in the 1960s they moved to Kiev. He received a nice apartment and a good pension. He died in the early 1980s. His wife Polina passed away shortly afterwards. Nadia and her children live in Kiev. We speak on the phone occasionally. Stanislav and his family moved to the US in the 1970s.

My mother was born in Odessa in 1898. At the age of three she performed on the stage of the Opera Theater in an episode of the opera 'Little mermaid'. From then on her soul belonged to the theater. She dreamed of becoming an actress. She learned to play the piano. After finishing grammar school she went to study at the Froebel Institute 11, which trained teachers for children's institutions. She worked as a governess for rich families for some time. She and my grandfather were hiding from pogroms in Russian families. They suffered from hunger and destitution. After my grandfather died Uncle Grigori, who served in Kamenets-Podolskiy in Western Ukraine at the time, sent her an invitation. He helped her to get a job at a factory and lodging.

In 1922 a young man approached her asking her in Ukrainian, 'Do you know where I could find a place to stay?' My mother was surprised that a young man of typical Jewish appearance spoke such fluent Ukrainian. It was even more surprising to her because in her family and in Odessa people spoke Russian. She became even more interested when she got to know that he was working at the drama theater, which was on tour in Kamenets-Podolskiy. This young man was my father-to-be, Lev Belotserkovski. He was an actor and prompter with the Kiev Ivan Franko Drama Theater.

My father was the son of a poor craftsman named Gershl Belotserkovski. My father was born in Alexandria, Kirovograd region in 1896. Alexandria was a small town with a Jewish and Ukrainian population. My father told me about his town. He said there were houses with heavy iron shutters, high fences and signs reading, 'Beware of the dog' on the gates. There were narrow streets with puddles that never dried up.

There was a church and a synagogue in town. My grandfather Gershl went to the synagogue every evening. He didn't have time to read religious books since he had to provide for his family. I don't know what kind of craft my grandfather followed. I don't remember my grandmother's name either. She was a housewife. They lived in a small two-bedroom apartment in a small one-storied house in Hannibalskaya Street in the Jewish neighborhood of Alexandria. Their neighbors were poor Jews trying to make their living with hard work. They were tailors, shoemakers, glass-cutters, carpenters and cabinet-makers. I met my grandfather and grandmother at the age of 2 or 3, when my mother and I visited Alexandria. I don't remember them. My grandfather died in the early 1930s. I don't know any details about the funeral. I've never been to his grave, but I think he was buried in the Jewish cemetery. My grandmother passed away during evacuation in Kazakhstan in 1943. She was buried there and I think she was probably buried in an ordinary cemetery. I don't think there were Jewish cemeteries in Kazakhstan at all.

My father's older sister Sophia, born in 1892, lived in Alexandria. She was a housewife. During the Great Patriotic War she was in evacuation in Kazakhstan with her husband and children. Aunt Sophia died in the 1960s. I don't remember the names of her husband and her three children. I only saw them once in my childhood. I had no contact with them. All I know is that they lived in Moscow.

My father didn't tell me how religious his family was, but I think they observed Jewish traditions, followed the kashrut, celebrated Sabbath and Jewish holidays. My father studied in cheder, spoke fluent Yiddish, could even read in Hebrew and knew the basics of the Torah and Talmud. However, he was self-educated because he only finished two or three years of elementaryprimary school. His family was poor and my father had to go to work at an early age. He was an errand-boy and a shop assistant.

My father spent all his free time reading Russian, Ukrainian and Jewish books that he borrowed from a local library. He dreamed about big towns and roads that he would take one day. There was a holiday when traveling actors or circuses came to their small town. My father and his friends watched performances of gymnasts, acrobats and clowns and dreamed of leaving town with them. The only thing that kept my father from doing so was his understanding that his parents depended on his support. Life was dull and boring in Alexandria, and my father waned to join a traveling circus to leave it. He got very fond of theater. The building of the town theater was situated on the main square in Alexandria. Traveling actors performed in this theater. Occasionally good actors came on tours. My father never missed a single performance. He met several other young men that were fond of theater and they founded a drama club. Its members were Michael Grushevski, who became a writer and producer, Ilia Nabatov, a Soviet satirical actor, Mariengof, an artist, Folia Korf, a future actor with the Satirical Theater in Moscow, and others. Before that, young people learned roles, recited poems in Russian and Ukrainian and held speeches about theater and literature.

In May 1912 something happened that determined my father's life. The Russian Tsarist Army Theater came on tour to Alexandria. They showed a Jewish play in which Gnat Yura, later a famous actor, performed. [Editor's note: Gnat Petrovich Yura (1887/88-1966), a great Soviet Ukrainian actor, producer and People's Artist of the USSR (1940). In 1920 he became one of the founders of the Ivan Franko Ukrainian Theater (Kiev) and its chief producer in 1961.] My father was very impressed by his acting. He met Yura after the performance. They became friends and my father often visited Yura at his home where Yura's mother and sister welcomed him warm-heartedly. In this small house in Alexandria my father and his friends read plays by Maxim Gorky 12, forbidden by the tsarist government, as well as interesting books, poems and their own works. Soon Yura Gnat had to leave Alexandria because of his military service. My father kept in touch with Yura's mother and sister.

During the Civil War poor Jewish families had a very hard life. My father decided to move to a bigger town to look for a job. In late 1917 he went to Ekaterinoslav [today Dnepropetrovsk] by train. He knew that Gnat lived in this town. They met. My father stayed with Gnat, who rented a room in the center of town. Gnat helped my father to get a job in a hospital. My father became an attendant there. However, life was difficult and he didn't earn enough to make a living. My father's parents wrote him letters and asked him to come home. Gnat gave my father a recommendation letter addressed to his brother Terenti Yura, who had become chief of the studio theater Surmy in Alexandria in 1916. My father was very happy about this opportunity. He went back to his home town.

My father worked in this theater until 1919. He played minor roles. He spoke very beautiful Ukrainian and Terenti helped him to become a prompter. My father often recalled the time of the development of the Surmy studio. They were trying to inspire people with hope for a better life and distract them from their everyday problems.

The power in Alexandria switched from one White Guard 13 gang to another. Jewish people suffered the most under them. There were often pogroms. My grandfather Gershl also became a victim of their attacks. Once, when my father returned home from rehearsals, bandits were leaving the house taking everything they could carry with them. They ordered my father to take off his clothes and took them with them, too. My father didn't have any clothes left. Terenti Yura gave my father some clothes and even organized a benefit night for him. We had a poster from this performance that we kept for many years. It read, 'Benefit night for prompter Belotserkovski who suffered from a pogrom - new staging of the play entitled Persecuted about Jews persecuted by pogrom makers'. Terenti gave my father all the money they collected from this performance. Then another incident happened that could have cost my father his life. Once a bunch of infuriated Petliura soldiers 14 ran onto the stage after a performance and shouted, 'Any zhydy [kike] here?'. A Ukrainian actor told my father to hide in the box where they kept their costumes and stay quiet. When the bandits came into the costume room he sent them away telling them that he hated 'zhydy parkhaty', too, and that there was none in the theater. They had another incident while on tour in a small Jewish town. When they left the theater building in Golta they saw Jews that had been hung in the main square: a gang had attacked the town during their performance.

My father and his friends were very enthusiastic about the Revolution of 1917. They belonged to the world of art, were far from politics and believed in slogans about equality and justice.

In summer 1920 another important event happened. Gnat Yura came to visit his brother in Alexandria. He invited his brother and a few others, including my father, to Cherkassy where he was organizing the Ivan Franko Ukrainian Drama Theater. That summer my father moved to Cherkassy. From then on he worked in this theater. And so it happened that a young man from a poor Jewish family not only came to liking the Ukrainian language wholeheartedly, but also became one of the founders of a famous Ukrainian theater. My father went on tours to Ukrainian towns with the theater and once they visited Kamenets-Podolsk where my father met my mother Rachil Shukhman.

They fell in love and got married. They had a civil ceremony and a small wedding party to which my father's friends from the theater came. Although the bride and bridegroom came from religious families they didn't have a Jewish wedding. My mother 'contracted' my father's love of the Ukrainian language. She studied Ukrainian for several months. Then she began to work in the theater, where she recited poems by Pavlo Tychyna. [Editor's note: Pavlo Grygorovich Tychyna (1891- 1967), Ukrainian poet.] My mother was very pretty and soon began to play minor roles in the theater. In early 1923 the government issued an order for the Ivan Franko Theater to move to Kharkov, which was the capital of Ukraine at that time.

The theater was housed in a nice building in Kharkov. The leading actors and the management of the theater were temporarily accommodated in a hotel, and young actors and employees of the theater stayed in a barrack-type building. My parents lived in a small section separated from the rest of the room with a sheet.

Growing up

I was born on 11th April 1925 and named Sophia after my grandmother. When I was three months old I fell ill with poliomyelitis and my mother quit work. She spent a lot of time with me and massaged my legs, but I remained an invalid. My mother began to sew at home.

In 1926 the theater was ordered to move to Kiev, the 'old' capital. Actors and employees were upset because they were losing their status of 'actors of the capital theater' to become 'provincial actors'. Nobody knew back then that Kiev would become the capital of Soviet Ukraine in 1932. In Kiev our family received a one-bedroom apartment with a big room and a kitchen. It was a very cold apartment and we had to keep the stoves burning all the time. We were still cold and became sickly. My father earned little and we were poor, but my childhood was full of joy whenever my father took me to the theater with him where I watched unforgettable performances.

I began school in 1932. My parents decided that I would have no problem learning Russian since everybody around us spoke it and therefore sent me to a Ukrainian school. A Jewish school was out of the question. Although my parents always identified themselves as Jews and even exchanged phrases in Yiddish, my father spoke Ukrainian because his profession required it. Besides, my parents were typical Ukrainian intellectuals of Jewish origin.

The saddest memory of my childhood is the famine in Ukraine in 1932-33 15. I even dreamed of white bread at night. I remember that my mother refused to buy me a bun averting her eyes from me - this was my mother, who loved me more than I could think of. I remember long evenings when my mother and I were waiting for my father to come back from the theater. He could buy two sandwiches at the canteen without food coupons. He brought us these delicacies wrapped in tissues. In winter 1933 Uncle Grigori visited us. He brought bread, pork fat and some sausages: this was an incredible treat for the time. When he put the food on the table the doorbell rang. My mother's friend Olia, an actor's wife, came to see my mother. When she saw the food on the table she stepped back to the door intending to leave, but my mother invited her to sit down. She sat down at the table, dropped her head in her hands and began to cry bitterly. She hadn't seen such nourishing food for a long time and her son was starving at home. In the morning I often saw dead people in the streets: villagers came to town looking for a job and food and starved to death.

In 1934 a new Ukrainian school opened in the yard of our house. I went to this school. My mother tried to bring me up a sociable girl so that I wouldn't feel my invalidity acutely. I had many friends. They dropped by our apartment during intervals and after classes. My mother made tea and pies for us. The famine was over and she could buy flour and bread in stores. I studied well. I liked maths and exact science, but I still preferred literature. I was an active pioneer and editor of the school newspaper. I joined the Komsomol 16 at school. I liked Soviet holidays: 1st May and 7th November [October Revolution Day] 17. My father and I went to parades. The theater employees went to Kreschatik, the main street in Kiev, wearing their costumes and make- up. Circus employees joined them to march along the street. They marched juggling and demonstrating acrobatic tricks. They also had their circus pets with them.

My father's colleagues visited us. My father had more Ukrainian friends, but nationality didn't matter to us. We much more valued personal qualities such as honesty. I liked going to the theater, which had an atmosphere of respect. My father continued working as a prompter. Sometimes he played minor roles, too. He also took part in the development of the stage sets and accessories and participated in discussions related to music in performances. My father had some Jewish colleagues, but none of them celebrated any Jewish holidays. I don't remember any celebration of Christian holidays, either.

We were aware of Stalin's persecutions [the Great Terror]. In early 1937 Uncle Grigori was arrested and brought to Kiev. My mother went to speak to his investigation officer and stood in long lines to send him food parcels. Standing in those lines she listened to stories of wives and relatives of innocent people that were taken to prison. Of course, my parents understood that it wasn't possible that there were so many 'enemies of the people' and that therefore all those cases must have been made up, but they never mentioned it in my presence. Thousands of innocent people perished in Stalin's prisons. The poet Sokyrko, the husband of Natalia Uzhviy, an actress of the theater, was arrested. Some other actors were arrested, too. Many poets and writers were announced outcasts. I couldn't help feeling stunned and this situation developed doubts in the just attitude of the security authorities. However, we never associated Stalin with this horrible suppression of human and legal rights. We trusted Stalin as if he were God and blamed the local authorities for all of it.

During the war

We knew from newspapers and the radio that Hitler had started a war in Europe. I remember that the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact 18 came as a shock to our family. We believed it to be ingratiating with fascists. We felt sad about the Soviet troops advancing to Western Ukraine. [Editor's note: Western Ukraine was annexed by the Soviet Union in 1939 according to a secret treaty with Nazi Germany.] There was a joint parade of German and Soviet troops in Brest. It was actually an occupation of Western Ukraine and it seemed strange, to say the least.

In June 1941 my father and the theater went on tour to Moscow. On 21st June my mother and I went to a concert in the House of Officers. We returned home in a very pleasant and happy mood. Nothing suggested disaster. We went to bed late. In the morning my mother's friend woke us up telling us the terrible news about the war. My father stayed in Moscow for a few days. Then some actors left for Tambov in Russia where the Ivan Franko Theater evacuated to and some, including my father, returned to Kiev to pick up their families. At that time an order was issued to keep men that weren't subject to military service in reserve. My father had a 'white card'. Men with white cards were to move out of Kiev. My mother went to the military commandant to beg him to let my father go, but it didn't help. My father had to move to the East. There were air raids near Poltava and their unit was dismissed. My father stayed in Poltava and then moved to Kharkov. We didn't have any contact with him.

In the theater my mother obtained evacuation documents for us. We didn't take very much luggage. We only had hand baggage, but thank God, somebody told us to take warm clothes with us. We went down the Dnieper River by boat. There were air raids. We were scared, women and children cried - there were mostly children and women on that boat. We got off the boat near Kremenchug, 150 kilometers from Kiev. My mother and I walked to the town of Sumy where Uncle Grigori lived with his family. It took us a long time to get there. We walked and got a ride every now and then.

We stayed in Sumy for a few days until Uncle Grigori, who was at the front already, obtained evacuation documents for us and his wife Polia and their son. We were to move to Saransk in Mordoviya. We went by special train for families of the military and state security employees. At Kupyansk station Polia met her sister and her sister's husband. They joined us. We also met Dobrovolski, an actor of the Ivan Franko Theater, who was trying to convince us to get off the train and go to Tambov where the theater was in evacuation. He convinced us that my father would be looking for us in Tambov. My mother and I stayed at Kupyansk station for a few days waiting for a train to Tambov.

We received a warm welcome. Young actors stayed in a hostel and established actors lived in a hotel. My mother and I sat on a bench in a garden, where we were supposed to meet with Gnat Yura: my mother wanted to ask him to help her get a job in the costume shop and, also, get some lodging. At that moment Terenti Yura and his wife approached us. His wife was an actress. Her last name was Bravinskaya. They took our luggage and we went to their hotel room. They had two beds brought into the room for us and after a few days my mother went to work in the costume shop. This happened in late August. On 1st September I started to go to school in Tambov. I remember I woke up on 22nd September 1941 when I heard somebody sobbing. It was Bravinskaya, who had heard on the radio that Kiev had been occupied. She cried because of the fascists who had come to her home town and she also cried because of the things they had left behind. She had a nice collection of pictures by French and German artists and antiques. I also burst into tears. It was hard to imagine fascists marching along the streets of my town. My father arrived in late September. In early October, when air raids began in Tambov, the theater evacuated to Semipalatinsk in Kazakhstan, some 3,000 kilometers from home.

Our trip lasted 29 days. We had to change trains, waiting at stations for days. We stayed overnight inside stations or in the open air. There was a measle epidemic among children. Fortunately, I didn't get the disease. On 4th December 1941 the theater opened its season in Semipalatinsk. We lived in a small room that formerly served as a kitchen in a communal apartment 19. There was a Kazakh family that also lived in this apartment. We got along very well. My mother and father received bread coupons for working people and I received a dependant's bread coupons. We got about a kilo of bread per day. This was all the food we had. We were starving. I was surprised that some adults lost their dignity when they were starving. I remember one actor, an intelligent and interesting man, begging for 'at least a piece of bread'. I finished secondary school in Semipalatinsk.

In June 1943 the theater moved to Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan, 3,500 kilometers from Kiev. Life was a little easier there since the employees of the theater received bread coupons and food packages. We could buy vegetables and fruit. I entered the Faculty of Philology at Uzbek State University. Our lecturers were professors from Moscow and Leningrad. I made many new friends and enjoyed studying at university. My first year passed by quickly. I remember how happy we were to hear that our hometown Kiev was liberated in early November 1943. We stayed in Tashkent for another half year. On 12th July 1944 we made our way back to Kiev with the theater. My mother had had malaria some time before our departure. She was carried into the railcar and had a fever until the train left the hot climate zone. She got better as soon as the temperatures dropped.

Post-war

Kreschatik and many historical monuments had been ruined. We got accommodation in a hotel. Our apartment was occupied by other tenants. After a month we received a room in a communal apartment in the city center. My father walked to the theater through piles of bricks on Kreschatik. Employees of the theater and I worked at voskresniks 20 cleaning up the debris. We worked hard cleaning up the city. In September 1944 I went to study at the Faculty of Philology at Kiev State University. I became a 2nd-year student. I graduated in 1948.

Many Jews, including our family, remember the period in the history of the Soviet Union known as a state campaign of anti-Semitism called 'campaign against cosmopolitans' 21. Jews were declared to be cosmopolitans. They were fired and many of them arrested. Some were even executed - in the same way people had been back in 1937 [during the Great Terror]. Many employees of Kiev Conservatory, Kiev University, publishing and printing houses fell victim to this campaign. The situation in the theater where my father worked was different. Gnat Yura spoke at a meeting and said, 'Who are cosmopolitans - is it Pruslin or Matvey Drak or Belotserkovski? This is nonsense. I've known them for 30 years and I don't believe anything, but what I see with my own eyes'. [Editor's note: Drak was the chief painter at the theater and Pruslin was a composer and conductor.] I guess Gnat Yura was ordered by the Central Committee of the Party to disclose Jews that were 'enemies of the people', but he was an extremely decent and honest man. I don't know what effort it took him to protect his people, but he managed to keep a warm and friendly atmosphere in the theater.

Vatulia and Kosheski, honored actors of the USSR who worked in the theater, helped me to get a job. I was employed as an editor at a publishing house called Soviet School. In 1949 I got an invitation to a plenary meeting of Soviet writers because I was interested in the development of Ukrainian literature. I was very proud to represent our publishing house. This plenary meeting made a terrible and oppressive impression on me. It was conducted under the slogan 'Down with cosmopolitans and anti-patriots' [meaning 'down with the kikes']. Well- known Soviet writers made aggressive speeches. This anti-Semitic campaign reached its height in early 1953. This was the period of the so-called Doctors' Plot 22. I was on a business trip in Moscow and remember a woman in a tram, shouting that a man with Semitic appearance had pricked her with a syringe.

Later, in the 1980s, newspapers wrote that KGB [State Security Committee] agents in disguise commuted in public transportation to provoke people. But back then people seriously believed in Jewish murderers in white cloaks. It was no surprise: there were massive articles about doctor being poisoners. I don't know what happened to this woman: she just got off, but other people in the tram continued shouting curses addressed to Jews. You can imagine what a huge wave of anti-Semitism was created at that time! When Stalin died in 1953 I felt the bitterness of the loss like all others did, but I didn't cry. Then people began to talk about his persecutions, his cult and personal guilt. Therefore, the speech of Khrushchev 23 at the Twentieth Party Congress 24 in 1956 didn't come as a surprise to me: I was grateful for him to be the first to speak openly about it.

I worked as an editor for a year and then I got bored with correcting other people's typescripts. I went to the School Department of the Ministry of Education and asked them to send me to work in a school in a village. I wanted to become a teacher of Ukrainian language and literature. They were very surprised to hear that I wanted to work in a village because people preferred to work in towns at that time. I got a job assignment to work in a school in Skvira district, Kiev region, where I worked from 1949-1950. I rented a room in a house. Although it was a cold room that wasn't heated properly I enjoyed working at school. I had wonderful pupils that were eager to study and villagers struck me with their kindness.

Many years later my pupils came to see me when they visited Kiev. They told me about themselves and thanked me for what I had taught them. I didn't stay longer in the village due to my illness. It was either a result from hard conditions during evacuation or, more likely, from living in that cold room. I fell ill with tuberculosis. Fortunately, it was a closed form of tuberculosis. I got treatment in a nice hospital. Later I stayed in a recreation center for some time. I recovered, but I didn't go back to the village. I went to work in a secondary school and then became a teacher in an evening school. I cannot say that I faced any anti-Semitism when I tried to get employment, but I should mention that except for my job in the village I got all other jobs with the help of actors from the theater. In the evening school I was a Russian and Ukrainian teacher. My students were young war veterans and eager to study. Many of them became high officials later, and they never forgot about me.

In 1952 we received a bigger apartment. My father worked at the theater until 1960. Then, within two years, he wrote a book, his memoirs about the theater and the atmosphere there, and about nice talented people that he was lucky to work with. This book, entitled A Prompter's Notes was published by the Publishing House of Art and Musical Literature in Kiev, with an edition of 3,000 copies. When the book came out in 1962 my father was severely ill. He died in 1966. My mother became mentally ill after he passed away. She had schizophrenia. She couldn't stay alone at home due to her suicidal moods: she tried to jump out of the window several times. I had to put her into a mental hospital. I often visited her there, but her illness was progressing and she didn't even recognize me any more. My mother died in 1972. My parents were buried in the town cemetery in Kiev.

I've lived alone since then. I've never been married. There was a man in my life once: he loved me and came to see me from another town, but he didn't dare to leave his wife and children for me. However, I'm grateful to him that he brought many happy hours into my life and made me a fully-fledged woman. I don't know whether I would have been so happy in a marriage. We both cherished our short meetings.

I usually spent my summer vacations in recreation centers where I got treatment to strengthen my locomotorium. Sometimes I traveled to the Baltic Republics and the Caucasus.

I had many friends who were in the art scene or teachers: they were Jews, Russians and Ukrainians. I've always identified myself as a Jew, but I've never celebrated any Jewish holidays. To tell you the truth, I never knew about holidays. From time to time we got together with friends for a cup of tea and that was a holiday for us. We celebrated Soviet holidays and birthdays. We usually had parties on those days, listened to music, danced and talked. My Ukrainian friends and I went to Babi Yar 25 on 29th September every year to honor the memory of the 100,000 victims that perished there in 1941. We even went there before the monument was erected, when KGB agents spied upon those that came to lay flowers onto the grave. They spied upon people because they tried to keep information about the victims a secret - they even planned to build an amusement park on the spot to erase the traces of this tragedy. I shudder when I recall the many people that were arrested by KGB officers and taken to a nearby bus. Many were held for 15 days for 'hooliganism in public' and some were kept in prison even longer. I respect the people that came to Babi Yar in those years when it wasn't officially forbidden to do so but suspicious and, therefore, dangerous.

I never considered moving to Israel. I welcomed the establishment of Israel, but Ukraine, its people, art, language and literature, have always been my first choice.

I joined the Communist Party in 1948. I was a convinced communist. I never doubted any decisions or actions of the Party and believed communism to be the only right form of a state. I wasn't a party activist and didn't think of making a career in the Party, but I always attended party meetings and paid the monthly fees. I took part in preparations for Soviet holidays at work. We organized concerts where our pupils sang, danced and recited poems. We invited teachers, parents and relatives to our concerts. I made a speech about the achievements of the Soviet people in industry and agriculture, the completion of plans by Soviet enterprises and illustrated my speech with specific data. I also conducted political classes for my colleagues and pupils and taught them about the international situation and the pace of our country toward communism. Even after I retired I was involved in many party activities. I held lectures about the advantages of communism in various institutions.

I saluted perestroika in the 1980s and spoke my mind about my attitude towards everything new that came into our life. At last my eyes opened and I understood what horrible lies had been surrounding me throughout my life. There were publications about the horrors of life in camps and the terrible injustice of life in the USSR that was camouflaged by propaganda from citizens and outsiders. I left the Party in 1990, even before it was eliminated. I submitted my request to be expelled from the Party due to my old age. Regretfully, I wasn't brave enough to write openly what I thought - that the Party had outlived itself, that it was a party of murderers and that I didn't want to be its member any more. However, I believe that my action to leave was also brave in a way.

I appreciate independent Ukraine. I believe that, although the current situation is difficult, especially for pensioners, this time will pass. Regardless of my old age I read and write my memoirs and poems. I keep going to the Jewish Charity Fund, the Hesed, where I hold lectures about Ukrainian literature, poetry and theater. I get invitations from the Ivan Franko Theater where my father had worked for 40 years. I share my memories about my parents and the people who founded this theater.

It's wonderful that Jewish life has revived in Ukraine and that the Jewish community supports its members like it used to before the Revolution of 1917. I can still do without assistance. I hate to ask for help and I'm happy to be of use to the community. It's great that people can return to their roots, go to the synagogue and observe the traditions of their ancestors. I read a lot about Jews, Jewish life and traditions. It's interesting, but then history of any nation is of great interest to me. It's difficult to change at my age, though. I've never observed any Jewish traditions.

Glossary

1 Odessa

The Jewish community of Odessa was the second biggest Jewish community in Russia. According to the census of 1897 there were 138,935 Jews in Odessa, which was 34,41% of the local population. There were 7 big synagogues and 49 prayer houses in Odessa. There were heders in 19 prayer houses.

2 Russian Revolution of 1917

Revolution in which the tsarist regime was overthrown in the Russian Empire and, under Lenin, was replaced by the Bolshevik rule. The two phases of the Revolution were: February Revolution, which came about due to food and fuel shortages during WWI, and during which the tsar abdicated and a provisional government took over. The second phase took place in the form of a coup led by Lenin in October/November (October Revolution) and saw the seizure of power by the Bolsheviks.

3 Civil War (1918-1920)

The Civil War between the Reds (the Bolsheviks) and the Whites (the anti-Bolsheviks), which broke out in early 1918, ravaged Russia until 1920. The Whites represented all shades of anti-communist groups - Russian army units from World War I, led by anti-Bolshevik officers, by anti-Bolshevik volunteers and some Mensheviks and Social Revolutionaries. Several of their leaders favored setting up a military dictatorship, but few were outspoken tsarists. Atrocities were committed throughout the Civil War by both sides. The Civil War ended with Bolshevik military victory, thanks to the lack of cooperation among the various White commanders and to the reorganization of the Red forces after Trotsky became commissar for war. It was won, however, only at the price of immense sacrifice; by 1920 Russia was ruined and devastated. In 1920 industrial production was reduced to 14% and agriculture to 50% as compared to 1913.

4 Gangs

During the Russian Civil War there were all kinds of gangs in the Ukraine. Their members came from all the classes of former Russia, but most of them were peasants. Their leaders used political slogans to dress their criminal acts. These gangs were anti-Soviet and anti-Semitic. They killed Jews and burnt their houses, they robbed their houses, raped women and killed children.

5 Pogroms in Ukraine

In the 1920s there were many anti-Semitic gangs in Ukraine. They killed Jews and burnt their houses, they robbed their houses, raped women and killed children.

6 Great Patriotic War

On 22nd June 1941 at 5 o'clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War. The German blitzkrieg, known as Operation Barbarossa, nearly succeeded in breaking the Soviet Union in the months that followed. Caught unprepared, the Soviet forces lost whole armies and vast quantities of equipment to the German onslaught in the first weeks of the war. By November 1941 the German army had seized the Ukrainian Republic, besieged Leningrad, the Soviet Union's second largest city, and threatened Moscow itself. The war ended for the Soviet Union on 9th May 1945.

7 Reds

Red (Soviet) Army supporting the Soviet authorities.

8 Great Terror (1934-1938)

During the Great Terror, or Great Purges, which included the notorious show trials of Stalin's former Bolshevik opponents in 1936-1938 and reached its peak in 1937 and 1938, millions of innocent Soviet citizens were sent off to labor camps or killed in prison. The major targets of the Great Terror were communists. Over half of the people who were arrested were members of the party at the time of their arrest. The armed forces, the Communist Party, and the government in general were purged of all allegedly dissident persons; the victims were generally sentenced to death or to long terms of hard labor. Much of the purge was carried out in secret, and only a few cases were tried in public 'show trials'. By the time the terror subsided in 1939, Stalin had managed to bring both the party and the public to a state of complete submission to his rule. Soviet society was so atomized and the people so fearful of reprisals that mass arrests were no longer necessary. Stalin ruled as absolute dictator of the Soviet Union until his death in March 1953.

9 Yezhov, Nikolai Ivanovich (1895-1939)

Political activist, State Security General Commissar (1937), Minister of Internal Affairs of the USSR from 1936-38. Arrested and shot in 1939. One of the leaders of mass arrests during Stalin's Great Purge between 1936-1939.

10 Beriya, L

P. (1899-1953): Communist politician, one of the main organizers of the mass arrests and political persecution between the 1930s and the early 1950s. Minister of Internal Affairs, 1938-1953. In 1953 he was expelled from the Communist Party and sentenced to death by the Supreme Court of the USSR.

11 Froebel Institute

F. W. A. Froebel (1783-1852), German educational theorist, developed the idea of raising children in kindergartens. In Russia the Froebel training institutions functioned from 1872-1917 The three-year training was intended for tutors of children in families and kindergartens.

12 Gorky, Maxim (born Alexei Peshkov) (1868-1936)

Russian writer, publicist and revolutionary.

13 White Guards

A counter-revolutionary gang led by General Denikin, famous for their brigandry and anti-Semitic acts all over Russia; legends were told of their cruelty. Few survived their pogroms.

14 Petliura, Simon (1879-1926)

Ukrainian politician, member of the Ukrainian Social Democratic Working Party, one of the leaders of Centralnaya Rada (Central Council), the national government of Ukraine (1917-1918). Military units under his command killed Jews during the Civil War in Ukraine. In the Soviet-Polish war he was on the side of Poland; in 1920 he emigrated. He was killed in Paris by the Jewish nationalist Schwarzbard in revenge for the pogroms against Jews in Ukraine.

15 Famine in Ukraine

In 1920 a deliberate famine was introduced in the Ukraine causing the death of millions of people. It was arranged in order to suppress those protesting peasants who did not want to join the collective farms. There was another dreadful deliberate famine in 1930-1934 in the Ukraine. The authorities took away the last food products from the peasants. People were dying in the streets, whole villages became deserted. The authorities arranged this specifically to suppress the rebellious peasants who did not want to accept Soviet power and join collective farms.

16 Komsomol

Communist youth political organization created in 1918. The task of the Komsomol was to spread of the ideas of communism and involve the worker and peasant youth in building the Soviet Union. The Komsomol also aimed at giving a communist upbringing by involving the worker youth in the political struggle, supplemented by theoretical education. The Komsomol was more popular than the Communist Party because with its aim of education people could accept uninitiated young proletarians, whereas party members had to have at least a minimal political qualification.

17 October Revolution Day

October 25 (according to the old calendar), 1917 went down in history as victory day for the Great October Socialist Revolution in Russia. This day is the most significant date in the history of the USSR. Today the anniversary is celebrated as 'Day of Accord and Reconciliation' on November 7.

18 Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact

Non-aggression pact between Germany and the Soviet Union, which became known under the name of Molotov- Ribbentrop Pact. Engaged in a border war with Japan in the Far East and fearing the German advance in the west, the Soviet government began secret negotiations for a non-aggression pact with Germany in 1939. In August 1939 it suddenly announced the conclusion of a Soviet- German agreement of friendship and non-aggression. The Pact contained a secret clause providing for the partition of Poland and for Soviet and German spheres of influence in Eastern Europe.

19 Communal apartment

The Soviet power wanted to improve housing conditions by requisitioning 'excess' living space of wealthy families after the Revolution of 1917. Apartments were shared by several families with each family occupying one room and sharing the kitchen, toilet and bathroom with other tenants. Because of the chronic shortage of dwelling space in towns shared apartments continued to exist for decades. Despite state programs for the construction of more houses and the liquidation of shared apartments, which began in the 1960s, shared apartments still exist today.

20 Voskresnik

Unpaid voluntary work after regular working hours on Sunday. This was created in the late 1920s on the example of the subbotniks in order to raise funds for the great industrialization drive projected by the first five-year plan.

21 Campaign against 'cosmopolitans'

The campaign against 'cosmopolitans', i.e. Jews, was initiated in articles in the central organs of the Communist Party in 1949. The campaign was directed primarily at the Jewish intelligentsia and it was the first public attack on Soviet Jews as Jews. 'Cosmopolitans' writers were accused of hating the Russian people, of supporting Zionism, etc. Many Yiddish writers as well as the leaders of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee were arrested in November 1948 on charges that they maintained ties with Zionism and with American 'imperialism'. They were executed secretly in 1952. The antisemitic Doctors' Plot was launched in January 1953. A wave of anti-Semitism spread through the USSR. Jews were removed from their positions, and rumors of an imminent mass deportation of Jews to the eastern part of the USSR began to spread. Stalin's death in March 1953 put an end to the campaign against 'cosmopolitans'.

22 Doctors' Plot

The Doctors' Plot was an alleged conspiracy of a group of Moscow doctors to murder leading government and party officials. In January 1953, the Soviet press reported that nine doctors, six of whom were Jewish, had been arrested and confessed their guilt. As Stalin died in March 1953, the trial never took place. The official paper of the party, the Pravda, later announced that the charges against the doctors were false and their confessions obtained by torture. This case was one of the worst anti-Semitic incidents during Stalin's reign. In his secret speech at the Twentieth Party Congress in 1956 Khrushchev stated that Stalin wanted to use the Plot to purge the top Soviet leadership.

23 Khrushchev, Nikita (1894-1971)

Soviet communist leader. After Stalin's death in 1953, he became first secretary of the Central Committee, in effect the head of the Communist Party of the USSR. In 1956, during the 20th Party Congress, Khrushchev took an unprecedented step and denounced Stalin and his methods. He was deposed as premier and party head in October 1964. In 1966 he was dropped from the Party's Central Committee.

24 Twentieth Party Congress

At the Twentieth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in 1956 Khrushchev publicly debunked the cult of Stalin and lifted the veil of secrecy from what had happened in the USSR during Stalin's leadership.

25 Babi Yar

Babi Yar is the site of the first mass shooting of Jews that was carried out openly by fascists. On 29th and 30th September 1941 33,771 Jews were shot there by a special SS unit and Ukrainian militia men. During the Nazi occupation of Kiev between 1941 and 1943 over a 100,000 people were killed in Babi Yar, most of whom were Jewish. The Germans tried in vain to efface the traces of the mass grave in August 1943 and the Soviet public learnt about mass murder after World War II.

Ludwig Grossmann

Ludwig Grossmann 
Österreich 
Wien 
Interviewer: Tanja Eckstein 
Datum des Interviews: Januar 2003 

Ludwig Grossmann lebt mit seiner Frau Fanny in einer Altbauwohnung am Rande des Praters.

Als durch und durch politischer Mensch, besitzt er ein Archiv mit Zeitungsausschnitten über viele politischen Themen, die er seit den 1950er-Jahren sammelt, um sein Wissen zu vertiefen und anderen zu helfen, ihr Wissen zu vervollständigen.

Einen wichtigen Platz in Ludwig Grossmanns Leben nimmt der Schriftsteller Jura Soyfer 1 ein. 

Ludwig Grossmann stirbt im August 2006 in Wien.

Meine Familiengeschichte

Über meine Familie väterlicherseits weiß ich nur sehr wenig. Mein Vater hatte natürlich zu seinen Eltern Kontakt, ich weiß auch, dass er Stiefgeschwister hatte. Ein Stiefbruder, der Schnitzer hieß, lebte in Dortmund.

Ich habe aber diesen Teil der Familie nie kennen gelernt. Mein Vater wurde am 15. Oktober 1879 als Jacob Bleicher recte Grossmann in Galizien, in dem Ort Zurawno [heute Ukraine], geboren. Der Name seiner Mutter war Bleicher.

Seine Eltern haben nur jüdisch geheiratet, deshalb bekam er zuerst den Familiennamen seiner Mutter. Der Staat erkannte damals die jüdischen Hochzeiten nicht an. Irgendwann ist mein Vater nach Budapest gegangen und hat dort gelebt. Er hat perfekt ungarisch gesprochen.

Der Großvater mütterlicherseits hieß Juda Simon Vorschirm. Ich glaube, er wurde 1857 in Tarnow [heute Ukraine], im damaligen Galizien, geboren.

Meine Großeltern lebten getrennt, wir hatten keine Verbindung zum Großvater, obwohl er in Wien nur ein paar Gassen von uns entfernt wohnte. Die Großmutter Zipora Vorschirm, die 1855 geboren wurde, lebte bei uns.

Die Großeltern hatten zwei Kinder: meine Mutter Erna und ihren Bruder Jacob. Meine Mutter wurde am 28. Mai 1885 in Tarnow geboren. Als sie zwei Monate alt war, übersiedelte die Familie nach Wien.

Sie hatte eine Ausbildung als Schneiderin und wohnte damals in der Adambergergasse, im 2. Bezirk. Das ist in der Nähe der Unteren Augartenstraße. Meine Mutter war, wie meine Großmutter, eine religiöse Frau.

Mein Onkel hieß Jacob Vorschirm. Er wurde am 21. Dezember 1880 in Tarnow geboren. Er wohnte im 3. Bezirk in Wien, und wir haben ihn öfters gesehen.

Er war verheiratet mit Tante Karoline, die am 9. Juni 1880 geboren wurde. Sie hatten einen Sohn Herbert, der am 11. November 1908 geboren wurde. Ich weiß, dass mein Onkel Jacob Kontakt zu seinem Vater hatte.

Tante Karoline schrieb ihrem Cousin Jacob Grossmann in Budapest, dass ihr Mann Jacob Vorschirm eine Schwester im richtigen Heiratsalter hätte. Ihrer Meinung nach war es an der Zeit zu heiraten.

Das sagten sie meiner Mutter: wenn eine Frau ein bestimmtes Alter erreicht hat, wird es schwierig, einen Mann zu finden. Sie haben über meinen Vater Auskunft eingeholt - was er arbeitet, wie viel er verdient und ob er einen guten Ruf hat. Dann ist mein Vater nach Wien gekommen, und 1912 haben meine Eltern im Tempel in der Leopoldsgasse, im 2. Bezirk, geheiratet.

Onkel Jacob wurde mit seiner Frau Karoline am 27. Mai 1942 nach Maly Trostinec 2 [heute Weißrussland] deportiert und ermordet. Ihr Sohn Herbert Vorschirm emigrierte nach Amerika.

Am 19. Oktober 1913 wurde meine Schwester Jeanette geboren. Ein Jahr später ist mein Vater in den Krieg eingerückt. Sein Regiment, das Infanterieregiment Nummer 9, war wahrscheinlich in Galizien stationiert.

Zu Weihnachten 1914 war er aber schon mit einem Oberschenkelschuss in Wien, im Rudolfsspital. Danach hat er einige Zeit lang einen Gehstock benützten müssen, mit einem Knauf, der aussah wie ein Hase.

Den Knauf hatte er aufgehoben; ich habe ihn gesehen. Die Wunde ist verheilt, und er kehrte zu seinem Regiment zurück. Dann war er eine Zeit lang in Italien und danach wurde er nach Polen versetzt.

Meine Mutter war als Krankenschwester verpflichtet. Sie trug auch eine Uniform. Ich weiß, dass nach Kriegsende meine Mutter, mein Vater und meine Schwester in der Ukraine waren.

Ende 1918 wollten sie nach Wien zurück. Ihr Zug wurde aber von Banditen ausgeraubt. Sie haben dann zu Fuß die Berge überquert und dabei abwechselnd meine Schwester getragen.

Meine Kindheit

Ich wurde am 20. März 1919 in Wien geboren. Da wohnten meine Eltern in der Raimundgasse, im 2. Bezirk. Mein Bruder Herbert wurde am 3. Mai 1920 in Wien geboren.

Meine Großmutter Zipora wohnte bis zu ihrem Tod mit uns zusammen in der Raimundgasse. Sie war eine kleine, liebe und gescheite Frau, die immer ein weißes Kopftuch trug. Sie führte den Haushalt und hatte das Sagen.

Meine Mutter war ziemlich unbeholfen und sehr froh darüber, dass sie ihre Mutter hatte, die ihr bei allem raten konnte - bei jeder Krankheit oder wenn irgendetwas sie beunruhigte.

Die Großmutter hatte eben viel mehr Erfahrung als meine Mutter, und meine Mutter respektierte sie sehr. Mein Bruder und ich sind an der Großmutter gehangen wie die Wasserkannen. Wir waren wirklich verzogene Fratzen.

Meine Schwester Jeanette war ihr ganzes Glück. Sie musste immer das Schönste und das Beste haben. Von dem Wenigen, was die Großmutter hatte, gab sie noch das Letzte für unsere Familie.

Die Großmutter ging zu den hohen Feiertagen in den Tempel. Wir haben sie immer in ihrem Zimmer besucht, und wenn wir es am Jom Kippur [jüdische Versöhnungstag; wichtigste Feiertag der Juden] vor Hunger nicht mehr ausgehalten haben, rochen wir am Etrog 3 und an den Gewürznelken, die sie in ihrem Zimmer hatte. Dann fiel uns das Fasten leichter.

Meine Großmutter war eine Anhängerin des Skoler Rebben [Rebbe jiddisch: Rabbiner]. Sie war ständig mit ihm in Verbindung. Der Rebbe hat in der Großen Pfarrgasse [2. Bezirk] gewohnt, auch ich habe ihn gekannt.

Was er gesagt hat, das war heilig für die Großmutter. Ich erinnere mich, dass er mehrere Kinder hatte, und dass er knapp vor 1938 in ein großes, schönes altes Haus in der Heinestrasse [2. Bezirk] zog.

Die Großmutter besaß eine Sparbüchse für Spenden für einen jüdischen Verein. Später hatte sie die blaue Büchse von der 'Keren Kajemet' 4. Vom 'Keren Kajemet' hatte sie wahrscheinlich auch die Erde aus Palästina, die war in einem Sackerl.

Das Sackerl mit der Erde lag bei ihrer Totenwäsche, weil es geheißen hat: Du sollst begraben werden in der Erde von Palästina. Ich wusste schon als Kind, dass dieses Sackerl mit der Erde existiert.

Das haben wir ihr, als sie gestorben war, auch mitgegeben. Meine Großmutter starb am im Februar 1931 in Wien an Krebs. Mein Großvater, den ich nicht kannte, starb 1932 in Wien.

Wir hatten nicht viel Geld, wir haben Kinderbeihilfe bekommen. Später haben wir ein Kabinett [kleines Zimmer] unserer Wohnung vermietet. Es war schwer damals, aber irgendwie sind wir zurechtgekommen.

Mein Vater hat in der Werdertorgasse, im 1. Bezirk, als Vertreter für Textilwaren gearbeitet. Ich kann mich daran erinnern, dass die Firma ein Auto hatte und mein Vater es ankurbeln musste, wie das bei den damaligen Autos notwendig war.

Als mein Bruder und ich klein waren, gingen wir in einen jüdischen Kindergarten vis-a-vis unserer Wohnung. Er war an der Ecke Malzgasse, zwischen der Polizeidirektion Leopoldstadt [2. Bezirk] und der Raimundgasse.

Wir sind nicht gerne in den Kindergarten gegangen. Vor dem Kindergarten ist immer eine Frau gesessen, die Zuckerln verkaufte. Damit konnte man weinende Kinder beruhigen. Kapperln [Kopfbedeckung] haben wir keine getragen; es war nicht so streng.

Aber es war ein rein jüdischer Kindergarten. Er stand unter dem Tutorium der Kultusgemeinde. Im Kindergarten haben wir gesungen: 'Wir fahren nach Jerusalem und wer fährt mit? Du, liebe Schwester...' Daran kann ich mich erinnern.

In der Malzgasse gab es auch eine Betstube. Mein Vater ist in diese Betstube gegangen - nicht, weil er so gläubig war, sondern weil es irgendwie dazu gehörte. Zu Simchat Torah 5 haben sie die Torahrollen herumgetragen. Als kleiner Bub war ich oft mit meinem Vater in der Betstube; aber je älter ich wurde, desto seltener ging ich mit.

Ich habe die Volksschule in der Leopoldsgasse besucht. Das war eine Schule, in der es noch Gasbeleuchtung gab. Es war aber keine jüdische Schule. Wir hatten einen jungen Lehrer, der im Krieg gewesen war und uns von den Schrecken des 1. Weltkriegs erzählte - behutsam, damit wir Kinder es ertragen können.

Ich war immer sehr schlimm. Ich konnte nicht ruhig sitzen und einmal sagte der Lehrer: 'Schlimme Kinder brauchen wir nicht.' Er hat mich zum Oberlehrer geführt. Der hat auch gesagt: 'Schlimme Kinder brauchen wir nicht.'

Also habe ich meine Sachen zusammengepackt und bin nach Hause gegangen. Kein Mensch hat mich aufgehalten. Dann haben sie aber doch Angst bekommen, denn es hätte ja was passieren können. Der Schuldiener ist am nächsten Tag zu uns nach Haus gekommen, weil ich nicht in der Schule war.

Da wir ziemlich viele jüdische Kinder in der Klasse waren, hatten wir Religionsunterricht in der Schulklasse.

Wir Kinder waren Zionisten. Die Mutter und die Großmutter hatten nichts dagegen, aber auch nichts dafür. Meine Schwester war beim Haschomer Hatzair 6. Auch ihr späterer Bräutigam Paul Herzberg und viele Freunde, die älter waren als mein Bruder und ich.

Am 1. Mai demonstrierten wir mit dem Vater auf der Ringstraße; da haben wir geschrieen: 'Techie Eretz Israel Haovedet [es lebe das arbeitende Israel]!' Für den Schomer [kurz für Haschomer Hatzair] sind wir dann auch mit der blauen Büchse vom Keren Kajemet sammeln gegangen.

Im Jahre 1929 waren wir mit dem Schomer in der Steiermark, auf der Lachnitzhöhe. Einmal waren wir auch in Kärnten, in Velden. Antisemitismus war damals etwas Selbstverständliches, aber da haben wir keinen Antisemitismus gespürt.

Wir wurden im Schomer auf die Alijah 7 vorbereitet. Wir hatten Schulungen, wurden über die politische Situation der jüdischen Gruppen in Deutschland informiert, und wir haben für die Prüfungen geübt, die wir ablegen mussten, um verschiedene Tüchtigkeitsabzeichen zu erhalten.

Zuerst hatten wir braune Hemden, wie die Pfadfinder. Wir haben sie ja auch beim Pfadfinder-Versand gekauft. Die Knoten waren auch von den Pfadfindern. Später hatten wir blaue Hemden.

Im Sommerlager hatten wir verschiedene Tätigkeiten. Es gab einen 'Jom Ivrit' [Tag der hebräischen Sprache], und es gab eine Fahnenwache. Wir waren sozialistisch eingestellt. Für den bedeutenden Dichter Bialik 8 hielten wir 1934 eine Ehrenwache am Südbahnhof.

Er lebte in Palästina und starb 1934 in Wien. Seine Leiche wurde nach Palästina überführt. An Theodor Herzls Todestag waren wir an seinem Grab auf dem Döblinger Friedhof. 1948 wurden seine Gebeine nach Jerusalem überführt.

Wir haben uns nie über gläubige Juden lustig gemacht. Wir wussten: das sind unsere Leute. Auch wenn wir nicht in den Tempel gegangen sind, haben wir die Leute respektiert, die es taten.

Für meine Bar Mitzwah 9 wurde ich in einem Kurs von der Kultusgemeinde vorbereitet. Ich glaube, es war in der Kultusgemeinde in der Seitenstettengasse. Die Teffilin 10 und den Tallit 11 haben wir von der Kultusgemeinde bekommen. Bei der Abreise nach England hat die Mutter sie mir eingepackt, aber ich habe sie wieder herausgenommen.

Bei meiner Bar Mitzwah habe ich nicht aus der Thora vorgelesen; das musste man nicht. Vorgelesen haben nur die braven Schüler oder die, die es unbedingt wollten. Ich habe das gemacht, was gefordert wurde.

Meine Familie war da, aber es gab nachher keine Feier. Die meisten Familien haben aber gefeiert. In der Zeitung hat man dann geschrieben: 'Wir gratulieren dem..., wünschen ihm alles Gute, Mazel Tov!'

1933, beziehungsweise 1934, beendeten mein Bruder und ich die Schule. Ich habe dann eine Lehre als Elektriker gemacht.

Meine Schwester war für uns immer die Gescheite, die gewusst hat, was man machen muss.

Alle jüdischen Familien, die es sich leisten konnten, haben ihren Kindern das Studium finanziert. Meine Schwester ging bis zur Untermittelstufe in der Hammer-Purgstall-Gasse in ein humanistisches Gymnasium. Weil meine Familie arm war, musste sie einen Beruf erlernen. Sie hat eine Schneiderlehre bei Michelbeuern gemacht.

In der Taborstraße [2. Bezirk] wohnte eine Professorin [Lehrerin an einem Gymnasium], die eine zionistische Mädchengruppe leitete. Sie war sehr geachtet und respektiert; die Mädchen haben sie vergöttert. Sie hat sie zionistisch stark beeinflusst.

Mit ihrem zukünftigen Bräutigam war meine Schwester schon befreundet, als sie erst 14 Jahre alt war. Sie waren im Sommer auf der Moschava [hebr: Sommerlager] in der Kindergruppe und als junge Leute waren sie bei der sozialistischen Jugend im Kaltschacher Lager in Kärnten. Meine Schwester ist sogar mit einer Freundin, der Elke Wassermann, per Autostopp nach Italien gefahren.

In England hat sie den Herzberg geheiratet. 1940 hat sie den Namen Hendon angenommen. Sie bekam einen Sohn Ronald. Nach dem Krieg hat ihr Mann sie aber verlassen und sie hat ihren Sohn allein sehr gut erzogen und sich schwer geplagt. Sie war in England Fürsorgerin und Leiterin eines Ambulatoriums und hat auch als Hebamme gearbeitet.

Mein Vater war bis 1933 in Deutschland und hat bei seinem Stiefbruder gearbeitet. Manchmal ist er nach Hause gekommen. Einmal hat meine Schwester ihn besucht. Nach Hitlers Machtantritt ist er nach Wien zurückgekommen.

Sein Stiefbruder ist über Holland nach Palästina emigriert. In Wien war mein Vater arbeitslos. Da er lange in Deutschland gelebt hatte, wusste er, was passieren kann.

Ich war vorbestraft, weil ich im kommunistischen Jugendverband aktiv mitgearbeitet hatte. Wir Jugendlichen hatten aber nicht nur politisch gearbeitet, wir verbrachten auch unsere Freizeit miteinander.

Zum Beispiel haben wir Radtouren zum Neusiedlersee im Burgenland gemacht. 1938 wurden alle politischen Gefangenen amnestiert, aber die Unterlagen wurden nicht vernichtet.

Während des Krieges

Am 12. März marschierten deutsche Truppen nach Österreich ein. Ende Mai 1938 wurden mein Bruder und ich verhaftet. Zuerst hielt man uns in der Karajangasse [20. Bezirk] fest.

Von dort wurden wir am 2. Juni ins KZ Dachau [Deutschland] deportiert und am 23. September ins KZ Buchenwald [Deutschland], um in Dachau Platz für andere Juden zu schaffen. Mein Bruder und ich mussten im KZ Buchenwald aus der Quarantänestation die Toten heraustragen.

Mein Vater wurde im Herbst 1938 nach Buchenwald [KZ Buchenwald] deportiert. Nachdem er aus dem kleinen Lager ins große Lager gekommen war [Anm: Das Hauptlager im KZ Buchenwald war in 'kleines Lager' und 'großes Lager' gegliedert], wurde das Leben etwas leichter für ihn.

Er hat irgendwelchen Kapos gesagt, dass seine Kinder auch da sind. Die Kapos haben uns dann erlaubt, in der Quarantänestation mit ihm zu sprechen.

In Buchenwald war ich in einer Baracke mit Jura Soyfer zusammen, wir saßen am selben Tisch. Jura Soyfer war sieben Jahre älter als ich, der Altersunterschied hat dort eine große Rolle gespielt. Er war mit seinem Freund Max Hoffenberg Tag und Nacht beisammen.

Die beiden haben alles miteinander geteilt. Jura Soyfer war mit Doktor Hugo Ebner am 13. März 1938 beim Versuch, über die Berge in die Schweiz zu fliehen, verhaftet worden. Max Hoffenberg, Hugo Ebner und Jura Soyfer kannten sich von den sozialistischen Mittelschülern.

Die Österreicher hätten ihn durchgelassen, aber sie haben seinen Rucksack durchsucht, und da fanden sie Konservendosen. Dadurch wussten sie, dass er flüchten wollte.

Alle drei wurden erst nach Dachau [KZ Dachau] und dann mit uns nach Buchenwald [KZ Buchenwald] gebracht worden. Hoffenberg und Ebner haben den Krieg überlebt.

Jura Soyfer war auch Leichenträger wie mein Bruder und ich, dabei hat er sich dann angesteckt. Er sollte entlassen werden, aber es gab eine Typhus- Epidemie. Wir waren alle in Quarantäne. Man fürchtete, der Typhus könnte sich ausbreiten und hat alle Entlassungen gestoppt. Jura Soyfer ist an Typhus gestorben.

Meine Mutter hat wahrscheinlich bei der Kultusgemeinde für uns interveniert. Eine Zeit lang war es so, dass man freigelassen wurde, wenn man sich verpflichtet hat, zu emigrieren. Am 20. oder 28. April wurden mein Bruder und ich entlassen. Wir haben unterschreiben müssen, dass wir so schnell wie möglich aus Österreich weggehen.

Mein Vater wurde im August 1939 entlassen. Er hätte dann emigrieren können, aber wegen unserer Mutter ist er in Wien geblieben. Als mein Vater entlassen wurde, war mein Bruder schon weg. Er ist gleich nach seiner Entlassung im Mai 1939 nach England zu unserer Schwester gefahren.

Sie war schon 1938 als 'Domestic Servant' [Hausangestellte] nach England emigriert und hatte während des Krieges außerhalb Londons Deutsch unterrichtet. Ihren späteren Mann hat sie aus Österreich herausgeholt.

Ich habe Wien erst am 15. August 1939 verlassen - mit einer Aktentasche. Ich bin knapp vor Kriegsbeginn geflüchtet, da konnte ich nichts mehr mitnehmen. Meinen Vater habe ich in Wien noch getroffen.

Meine Eltern waren zu dieser Zeit immer noch der Meinung, dass sie 'nichts Böses' getan hätten, und ihnen deswegen auch nichts Schlimmes passieren könne. Sie wollten nur, dass ihre Kinder aus Österreich weg gehen.

Am 26. Oktober 1939 wurde mein Vater mit dem zweiten Transport nach Nisko 12 deportiert. Im dem Transport waren 672 Menschen. Von ihnen sind elf oder siebzehn offiziell zurückgekommen.

Die meisten sind über die Grenze nach Russland getrieben worden. Aber mein Vater hatte meine Mutter in Wien, darum wollte er nach Wien zurück. Er war von Oktober 1939 bis April 1940 in Nisko. Aus dem Melderegister weiß ich, wann er sich wieder in Wien angemeldet hat.

Im Februar 1941 wurden meine Eltern dann nach Opole 13 in Polen deportiert und ermordet.

Ich hatte in Wien den Beruf eines Elektrikers gelernt und habe dann in England als Elektriker in einer Uniformfabrik gearbeitet. Nachdem die Deutschen im Juli 1940 Paris besetzt hatten, wurde ich interniert.

Mein Bruder wurde noch drei Tage vor mir von den Engländern festgenommen und auf einem Schiff nach Australien geschickt und dort interniert. Es gab zwei solcher Transporte.

Der Transport mit dem Schiff 'Andorra Star' nach Kanada wurde torpediert. Die meisten Flüchtlinge sind ertrunken. Das zweite Schiff, auf dem mein Bruder war, ist wochenlang rund um Afrika nach Australien gefahren.

Ich wurde in England auf der 'Isle of Man' interniert. Die 'Isle of Man'" befindet sich zwischen Irland und England. Die deutschen Bomberwellen sind über uns hinweggeflogen. Von Irland sind sie gekommen - das war ja neutral - haben ihre Bomben geworfen und sind wieder über das neutrale Meer weggeflogen.

Von Juli 1940 bis Februar 1941 war ich interniert. Ich wurde entlassen, weil ich einen Arbeitsplatz in einer kriegswichtigen Industrie bekam. Aber ich wäre auch entlassen worden, wenn ich mich zum Pioniercorps gemeldet hätte.

Ich habe dann sogar die Genehmigung erhalten, in der neutralen Zone zu arbeiten - das war eine Zone, die eigentlich für Ausländer verboten war.

Meine spätere Frau Fanny Landesmann war mir schon in Wien aufgefallen, aber sie hatte mich damals nicht beachtet. Sie hatte nur Augen für einen anderen Burschen. Der konnte wunderbar singen und Gitarre spielen. Fanny wurde 1920 in Wien geboren, und ich habe sie in London, bei 'Young Austria' 14 wieder getroffen.

Im 'Young Austria' trafen sich junge Leute aus Österreich. Es gab dort viele Juden, aber auch nichtjüdische Emigranten, die über die Tschechoslowakei, Frankreich, Spanien und andere Länder geflüchtet waren.

Wir haben durchs Radio, von den Engländern oder von Leuten, die nach und nach ankamen erfahren, was in der Welt geschieht. Zu den jungen Leuten, die in den Club kamen, war man sehr freundlich: wann bist du gekommen? Woher bist du gekommen? Was sind deine Pläne? Kann man dir behilflich sein?'

Vom Young Austria wurden wir aufgefordert in England zu bleiben so lange es notwendig ist, danach aber wieder nach Österreich zurückzukehren. Aber es gab auch Leute, die darauf warteten, nach Amerika oder nach Palästina gehen zu können.

Es waren so viele allein stehende Jugendliche da, die Schwierigkeiten und Sorgen hatten: Unterkunft, Arbeit, kulturelle Dinge - es tat einem das Herz weh. Wir haben uns gegenseitig geholfen. Man konnte dort essen.

Leute, die keine Arbeit hatten und auf eine Arbeit warteten, konnten dort schlafen oder haben etwas vermittelt bekommen. Aber es war immer nur vorübergehend, es war ja kein Hotel.'Young Austria' war für uns so ein bisschen unser zu Hause.

Wir hatten eine Bibliothek, es gab Zeitungen, Veranstaltungen und Vorträge. Es gab auch eine Theatergruppe. Der österreichische Schauspieler Otto Tausig hat da gespielt. In den 'Schlimmen Buben in der Schule' 15 ist er mit Begeisterung aufgetreten.

Wir haben geglaubt, wenn der Krieg zu Ende ist, werden in Österreich Lehrer gebraucht werden, Künstler, Wissenschafter und Erzieher, denn wie wollen sie die Lehrer, die für Hitler eingetreten sind, dazu kriegen, Kinder zur Demokratie zu erziehen?

Wir haben geglaubt, alle warten auf uns. Es war aber nicht alles so, wie wir geglaubt haben. Aber wir hatten auch Heimweh, obwohl es keine Verwandten mehr gab.

Meine Frau und ich haben geheiratet. Am 21. Februar 1942 kam unsere Tochter Mariane Ruth auf die Welt.

Nach dem Krieg

1946 sind wir nach Österreich zurückgekehrt. Wir brauchten Arbeit und ein Quartier.

Mein Bruder kam noch vor uns mit der britischen Armee nach Wien. Er war 1942 von Australien nach London zurückgekommen. Dann wurde er auch auf der 'Isle of Man' interniert.

Danach kam er nach Manchester und trat in die britische Armee ein. 1943 heiratete mein Bruder Hertha Gelb. Ihr Sohn Heinz wurde 1963 in Wien geboren.

In Wien wohnten wir zuerst bei einer Hausbesorgerin, die die Mutter von einem unserer Genossen war, der 1945 umgekommen ist. Sie wohnte in der Rembrandtstraße [2. Bezirk] und nahm uns auf. Wir haben zusammen gelebt und sogar zusammen gekocht.

Nach unserer Rückkehr meldeten wir uns bei der jüdischen Gemeinde und bekamen dann CARE-Pakete 16.

In London hatte man uns versprochen, wir würden nach unserer Rückkehr Unterstützung erhalten. Die Gemeinde Wien hat dann auch wirklich eine Fürsorgerin geschickt und die hat gefragt: 'Warum kann Ihr Bruder das nicht zahlen?'

Aber wir hatten ein paar Sachen aus England mitgebracht: ein Kinderbett, ein altes Fahrrad und Lebensmittel. Das war nicht schlecht fürs Erste.

Meine Frau ist dann einmal in ihre alte Wohnung gegangen und mein Bruder und ich sind in unserer Wohnung gegangen. Wir wollten nur sehen, was dort los ist. Die Frau, die in unserer Wohnung wohnte, hat zu uns gesagt:

'Wir wurden selber ausgebombt, hatten nichts mehr, und die Wohnung war frei. Außerdem war vor uns ein anderer in der Wohnung. Was wollen Sie von uns?' Und die Leute im Haus haben zu mir gesagt: 'Was wollen Sie? Die alte Frau, was kann die dafür? Lassen Sie sie in Ruhe.'

In der Wohnung meiner Frau befanden sich noch die Möbel ihrer Mutter. Die hat sie aber dann mit einem Rechtsanwalt zurückgefordert.

Der Nazi, der ihre Mutter aus der Wohnung geworfen hatte, hatte 100 Reichsmark für die Möbel gezahlt, und meine Frau hat dann der Nachmieterin 100 Schillinge gezahlt und einen Teil der Möbel genommen. Im Februar 1947 bekamen wir eine Wohnung.

Ich habe sofort angefangen als Elektriker zu arbeiten. Das war die gleiche Arbeit, die ich verrichtet hatte, bevor ich von Wien weg bin. Auch in England hatte ich nach ganz kurzer Zeit wieder Arbeit. Mein Bruder machte nach dem Krieg seine Gesellenprüfung als Installateur. Er war politisch sehr aktiv. Er starb 1993 in Wien.

Meine Schwester weigerte sich, nach Österreich zurückzukehren. Sie hatte sich in England akklimatisiert und fühlte sich dort gut. Wir haben sie alle paar Jahre in London besucht. Sie hat uns immer wieder vorgeworfen, nach Wien zurückgegangen zu sein, ohne ihr etwas darüber gesagt zu haben.

Ich bin in der Lagergemeinschaft Buchenwald und wir treffen uns regelmäßig.

Meine Frau und ich sind Mitglieder der jüdischen Gemeinde und in den letzten Jahren gehen wir zu Veranstaltungen und zu Kundgebungen. Früher haben wir das Jüdische ganz auf die Seite geschoben - da war nur die Partei für uns wichtig.

Auch nach dem Krieg haben wir Antisemitismus erlebt, aber wir haben das nicht sehen und nicht hören wollen. In unserer Gegenwart hat niemand etwas Antisemitisches gesagt, aber unter der Oberfläche war das immer wieder da. Wenn jemand einen jüdischen Witz erzählt hat, dann hat er vorher gesagt: 'Entschuldige, ich erzähle jetzt einen jüdischen Witz.'

Glossar

1 Soyfer, Jura [1912-1939]

Einer der bedeutendsten politischen Schriftstellern Österreichs in den 1930er Jahren. Soyfer publizierte in mehreren Zeitschriften und verfasste insgesamt fünf Stücke. Er starb im KZ Buchenwald.

2 Maly Trostinec

Konzentrationslager in der Nähe von Minsk. In Maly Trostinec wurden Zehntausende Juden aus Weißrussland und anderen europäischen Ländern umgebracht. Von 9.000 Juden aus Österreich, die zwischen Mai und Oktober 1942 nach Maly Trostinec gebracht wurden, haben 17 überlebt.

3 Etrog

gelbgrüne Zitrusfrucht, gehört zu den vier Arten [arba minim], die im Feststrauß für das Laubhüttenfest zusammengebunden werden: dem Etrog, dem Lulaw, dem Zweig einer Dattelpalme, dem Hadas, einem Myrthenzweig und der Araba, dem Zweig einer Bachweide. Diese vier Sorten werden als repräsentativ für die Gesamternte betrachtet und für das Volk Israel.

4 Keren Kajemet [Keren Kayemet]

Der Jüdische Nationalfonds (JNF) wurde 1901 gegründet, um Land für jüdische Landwirtschaftssiedlungen zu erwerben und Erschließungs-, Urbarmachungs- und Aufforstungsprojekte in Palästina durchzuführen.

5 Simchat Torah

hebr. Torah-Freude. An diesem Tag geht der jährliche Torah-Lesezyklus zu Ende und beginnt sofort wieder. An Simchat Torah findet eine Prozession statt und man tanzt mit den Torahrollen.

6 Haschomer Hatzair

Erste Zionistische Jugendorganisation, entstand 1916 in Wien durch den Zusammenschluss von zwei jüdischen Jugendverbänden. Hauptziel war die Auswanderung nach Palästina und die Gründung von Kibbutzim. Aus den in Palästina aktiven Gruppen entstand 1936 die Sozialistische Liga, die sich 1948 mit der Achdut Haawoda zur Mapam [Vereinigte Arbeiterpartei] zusammenschloss.

7 Aliya [Alija]

hebr: Aufstieg. Bezeichnung für die Einwanderung nach Israel, bzw. Palästina.

8 Bialik, Chaim Nachman [1873-1934]

jüdischer Dichter, Autor und Journalist, der auf Hebräisch schrieb; einer der einflussreichsten hebräischen Dichter; gilt in Israel als Nationaldichter.

9 Bar Mitzwah [od

Bar Mizwa; aramäisch: Sohn des Gebots]: die Bezeichnung einerseits für den religionsmündigen jüdischen Jugendlichen, andererseits für den Tag, an dem er diese Religionsmündigkeit erwirbt, und die oft damit verbundene Feier. Bei diesem Ritus wird der Junge in die Gemeinde aufgenommen.

10 Tefillin

lederne 'Gebetskapseln', die im jüdischen Gebet an der Stirn und am linken Arm getragen werden und Texte aus der Torah enthalten.

11 Tallit

ritueller 'Gebetsmantel', wird von erwachsenen Juden (ab 13) beim Beten getragen.

12 Nisko

Ort im Karpatenvorland. Im Rahmen der 'Umsiedlung nach dem Osten' gelangten Ende 1939 zwei Transporte mit 1.500 Wiener Juden nach Nisko.

Nur 200 Männer gelangten in das Lager, die Mehrheit wurde über die deutsch-sowjetische Demarkationslinie gejagt. Nach dem Abbruch der Aktion wurden im April 1940 198 Männer nach Wien zurückgeschickt - viele von ihnen wurden mit späteren Transporten neuerlich deportiert.

13 Opole [Polen, deutsch Oppeln]

Stadt in Oberschlesien. Im Februar 1941 gelangten zwei Deportationstransporte mit Juden aus Wien in das Ghetto Opole.

Im Frühjahr 1942 begann die Liquidation des Ghettos. Von den 2.003 Wiener Juden sind 28 Überlebende bekannt.

14 Young Austria

1939 gegründete, kommunistisch geführte Jugendorganisation österreichischer Flüchtlinge in Großbritannien, hatte 1300 Mitglieder.

15 Schlimmen Buben in der Schule

Theaterstück von Johann Nestroy

16 CARE [Cooperative for American Remittances to Europe]

Nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg von 22 US-amerikanischen Wohlfahrtsverbänden gegründete private Hilfsorganisation zur Koordinierung von Hilfsaktionen für Europa.

Zwischen 1946 und 1960 erreichten fast zehn Millionen CARE-Pakete mit Lebensmitteln, Kleidung oder Werkzeugen Deutschland und andere europäische Staaten.

Heinz Bischitz

Vienna
Austria
Interviewer: Tanja Eckstein
Date of interview: March 2003

Heinz Bischitz lives in a house owned by the Jewish Community in Vienna’s 2nd district.

I had already asked him six months ago to give me an interview, which he rejected after some consideration.

That’s why I was very surprised when I found out from ESRA that he was indeed ready to give me an interview.

Heinz Bischitz is a large, strong man with a full head of hair.

He comes across as very calm and well-balanced – an impression made stronger by his pipe smoking.

  • My Family History

My paternal grandfather was named Moritz Bischitz. He was born in Mattersburg in around 1870 [born on 9 March 1872; Source: DÖW Database] and was a traditional Jew. German was his mother tongue. I assume he was in the Austro-Hungarian Army, but, strangely, no one ever spoke about that.

Grandfather trained as a master carpenter and worked as a patternmaker. He had a handlebar mustache, smoked a long pipe, and I can remember that his carpentry workshop always smelled of glue. I believe my grandfather worked in the workshop alone – I never saw employees. He was a patternmaker, and what he did was almost like artistic carving. He also specialized in molds for the industry – that was precision work.

Grandfather had siblings – two or three brothers and sisters who didn’t survive the war. I might have had contact with them when I was very young, but I can’t remember anything about that. I don’t even know what their names were.

My paternal grandmother was called Caroline Bischitz, née Glaser. She was born in Schottwien, but I don’t know when [born on 10 January 1879; Source DÖW Database]. Schottwien is located between Vienna and Semmering. Grandmother was a fairly large, powerful woman.

She had a sister, Johanna Glaser. Both were killed in Theresienstadt. The sisters and my grandfather Moritz were deported together from Vienna to Theresienstadt on 28 July 1942. Johanna Glaser died in Theresienstadt one month later, on 28 August 1942. Caroline and Mortiz Bischitz were then deported from Thereseinstadt to the death camp Treblinka and murdered there. [Source: DÖW Database].

Grandmother’s brothers were called Mortiz Glaser and Bernhard Glaser. In 1938 they both immigrated to Argentina with their families and never returned to Austria.

Until 1938 my grandparents lived in Teesdorf with their daughter, Martha, and son-in-law, Leo Lichtblau. They lived in a large house. There was a shop in the front and an apartment in the back with a garden and my grandfather’s workshop. It was very dark inside.

In 1938 my grandparents needed to relocate to Vienna where they lived in the 2nd district until they were deported to Theresienstadt and murdered.

My grandparents had two sons and a daughter. My father was called Fritz Bischitz and was born in 1904 in Mattersburg. He was the eldest of his siblings. My father was a traditional Jew. He went to temple on the High Holidays and fasted on Yom Kippur.

My uncle had a Hungarian name; he was called Geza Bischitz. He was born around 1908/1909 and was married to Gisela Tichler. They had a son, Peter, who was born in 1935. My aunt and uncle had a village store in Traisen – that’s in Lower Austria – until 1938.

You could buy everything there, as was common back then. In 1938 they immigrated to England and never came back to Austria. My Uncle Geza and Aunt Gisela had a little shop in London after the war. My Cousin Peter lives in London.

My aunt and uncle have been dead for a while. I am in touch with my cousin. He comes to Vienna fairly often. Two years ago he visited the family’s former maid in St. Pölten and they spoke about old times. She is very old, but could still remember him.

We often visited my grandparents, my Aunt Martha – my father’s sister – and Uncle Leo. We lived in Ober Waltersdorf. Aunt Martha was two villages away in Teesdorf, and Traisen is also fairly close-by. Back then I would take everything apart; I was repairing things, so to speak. That’s why my grandmother always gave me an old alarm clock to “repair” for my birthday. It always made me very happy.

My father and his sisters had always maintained contact, just not during the war. My Cousin Peter had three sons; they all live in England. The eldest is called Keith, the middle one is called Ian, and the youngest is Neil. The cousins and the children of the cousins are still in touch.

Aunt Martha Lichtblau, née Bischitz, was my father’s sister. She was married to Leo Lichtblau. Martha and Leo were both trained tailors. Their daughter, Susi, was born in 1933; sadly she passed away last year. My uncle and Aunt also owned a village store in Teesdorf.

In 1938 they immigrated to England and stayed there after the war. After the war my aunt and uncle owned a drugstore in London. My Cousin Susi had two sons: Rufus and Giles. They live in London, but we don’t have much contact with them.

My maternal grandfather was called Armin Knöpfler. As far as I know, he was born in Budapest in 1870. His mother tongue was Hungarian. He was a merchant by trade. In which branch, I don’t know. It had something to do with textiles, I assume. I suppose he served in the Hungarian part of the Austro-Hungarian army. He must have had brothers and sisters, but I didn’t know any of them. 

I assume my grandmother, Maria Knöpfler, née Fleischer, was born in Budapest – in Hungary in any case. Her mother tongue was Hungarian. She was a religious woman. Grandmother mostly wore a headscarf – my mother thought her mother would have worn a wig. It was probably taken for granted and no one spoke about it. I don’t recall any siblings.

My grandparents were religious, but they didn’t keep a kosher house because they lived with their daughter, Magda, who was married to a Christian. They observed Shabbat and, for as long as they could, lit candles every Friday. My grandfather also went to the synagogue every Shabbat. They synagogue – a great, big synagogue, not a prayer house – was close to the apartment.

I can still remember the Seder evenings with my grandparents very well, and also that they never ended. My grandfather would go through all the prayers  - from A to Z – so the entire Haggadah. Eating would be constantly interrupted in order to keep praying. He did everything as written in the Haggadah – no comma or period would be left out.

I visited my grandfather a few times after the war; he mostly just sat in the kitchen and smoked a long pipe. Both of my grandfathers smoked long pipes, and both of them wore the same mustache. Before the war, Grandfather Knöpfler would visit us every summer in Ober Waltersdorf for a few weeks.

My grandparents survived the Holocaust in Budapest, hidden by their daughter, Magda, and her Christian husband. My grandmother died in 1947 or 48, and my grandfather in 1949 or 50 in Budapest – just a few years after the war. There was already communism in Hungary, and my mother wasn’t allowed to go the funeral; they wouldn’t let her in.

My grandparents had six children. My mother was born Irene Knöpfler in Nitra on 23 January 1906. Nitra is in Slovakia today. When and why the family moved from Nitra to Budapest, I don’t know. My mother was a trained seamstress. She was very consciously Jewish, but she never kept a kosher home, nor did we celebrate Shabbat. On holidays my parents would go to Baden or Vienna.

My mother’s eldest sister was Aunt Ilona Knöpfler. I think she was born in 1898. She never married and always lived with us – therefore I had two mothers. She was in charge of the household, since my mother was always working. We immigrated to Hungary together, then we went to Vienna together, and then to Argentina. She died on 5 June 1967 in Buenos Aires.

My uncle, Manfred Knöpfler, was born in 1901. He was married to a Christian; this unfortunately didn’t help him in the Holocaust – he was deported anyway. He had a son, Georg, who is still living in Budapest.

Aunt Magda Joo, née Knöpfler, was married to Oszkar Joo. He wasn’t Jewish and worked as a chauffeur for the Japanese Embassy during the war. I don’t know where he was working before the war. They had a son, Alexander.

My mother’s youngest sister was always called Nuschi. I don’t know what her actual name was. She was married to Manfred Schlanger. He was a Jew and they had two children: Kathalina and Karoly. Manfred Schlanger was a merchant, but I don’t recall in which industry. They survived the Holocaust in hiding in Budapest.

Anton Knöpfler, my mother’s youngest brother, was born on 12 December 1912. He had a commercial profession. He was a very athletic man. He was deported to a concentration camp and survived with a weight of 32 kilos. After the war he married a Belgium woman and emigrated from Budapest to Belgium a few months after the war. He died relatively young in the 1960s.

My paternal and maternal grandparents got along well and would visit each other for as long as they could. There was always a connection, despite the distance – two lived in Austria, the others in Hungary. My aunts, uncles, and my father all had cars, so they could visit each other often.

My parents were very young when they met. My father and his siblings attended school in Budapest for several years. The story of Mattersburg and of Burgenland is an Austro-Hungarian history. For some time Burgenland was part of Hungary, and then it was part of Austria.

My father grew up bilingual and finished his last two or three years of school in Budapest for some reason. It was probably during this time that he met my mother. My parents were married in 1920 in the synagogue in Budapest. That was the same synagogue where my grandfather went to pray. The street was called Arena utca back then. 

After my parents got married my mother moved in with my father in Ober Waltersdorf. Today Ober Waltersdorf is a town, but back then it was a village. But it did have its own railway station. The next synagogue was in Baden.

We had the only Jewish shop in town. That may be the reason why my parents moved there. Or maybe it was because the village was located near Teesdorf, where my grandparents were living. The salesroom of the shop was about 100 square maters.

There were groceries, fresh produce, and canned goods, wine, beer, soap, and textile dry goods like shirts, underwear, socks, aprons, fabrics and yarns. My father also sold sewing machines; he even had a sewing machine agency. Our relationship with the rest of the people in Ober Waltersdorf was very good until March 1938. I don’t know if we were the only Jewish family in towns. There may have been two or three other Jewish families, but definitely not more.

  • My Childhood

I was born 19 April 1932 in Baden, since there was no hospital in Ober Waltersdorf. On the day of my birth my father planted a walnut tree in our garden. A year ago my son and I went to see the garden, and the walnut tree was still standing in all its glory.

Before my parents had the shop in Ober Waltersdorf they would holiday on Lake Balaton. I think they were in Italy once. Later they would often take day trips to Semmering or the Ray mountains, since the shop was only closed on Sundays. My parents would also go very often to Baden for fun.

There they would go to the theater where they played operettas, and to the Kaffeehaus Withalm on Josephs-Platz to dance and where they’d meet up with my father’s sister and hold family meetings. The Kaffeehaus Withalm is still there today. My parents must have gone to the cinema in Vienna.

My dad had a lot of friends through his athletic activities. They usually met up in a pub, rather than at our house. He played on a soccer team and rode in motorcycle races for Ober Waltersdorf. The motorcycle had a sidecar. We lived across from the soccer field. My father also owned a motorcycle for the shop, but a special one, since he had to buy and deliver goods. We also had a car. I even have the slip from when the Nazi’s confiscated the car.

In 1938, when we had already been driven out of Ober Waltersdorf, our car was “Aryanized,” meaning stolen. It was a very bureaucratic process and we received this letter with a picture of our car that read:

Ober-Waltersdorf, 17. Oct. 1938. Mr. Fritz Bischitz in Vienna 2nd District

I wish to inform you that your compact car was confiscated by the former leader of Sturm 35 (Kral) and brought to Sturm headquarters in Leobersdorf. I am unaware of the vehicle’s present whereabouts.

Leader of Sturm 18/84

They even confiscated the bicycle.

My father was a great amateur photographer. He had a German camera called a Voigtländer. He could have never afforded a Leica. For a while he thought he would be able to make a career out of his passion for photography and he even studied photography on the side for one or two years. Since there was no color photography yet, he learned to color the photos himself. He used tiny brushes to paint the photos with photo paint, which came in small vials: that was an art.

He was a funny and temperamental man and had a distinct sense of humor. I laughed a lot during the first years of my life, since my father was such a funny man. But he also fought a lot, with every one. When he was riled up he would roar – it was no longer shouting. He fought with my mother, with my aunt, with me, with every one.

Once he was done yelling he would calm down. He’d be angry at the whole world for five minutes, and then everything would be okay again. He could get upset over anything that didn’t suit him. He would even get into scuffles sometimes. Even as an older man. He wanted to beat up one of his customers in Argentina who didn’t want to pay.

My mother spoke German with an Austrian accent. She was also very funny. She had a wonderful voice and loved singing Hungarian folk songs and songs from operettas. She liked working in the shop – the household wasn’t really her thing. So Aunt Ilona took care of the household. Aunt Ilona was there from the beginning. When my parents were married, she came along. She was a wonderful cook. The shop was closed in the afternoons and we would all eat together.

We had acquaintances in town that immediately showed up to our house on the day of the Anschluss. Not all of them, but some, took things from us. In 1938 Uncle Oscar came, Aunt Magda’s husband from Budapest – he was Christian – and brought us all to Hungary.

He was able to bring me, for example, using his son’s papers, and the others with forged papers. It happened slowly, over the course of several months. He brought my mother, my father, my Aunt Ilona, and me. He saved us all.

In Budapest we rented a room in the large apartment of a Hungarian-Jewish family in the 13th district – a working class district. We were allowed to share the kitchen and bathroom.

Then I started first grade; I was six years old. It was a normal public school. There were a couple of Jews there, but not that many. At first I had a hard time managing the Hungarian language, but I learned it quickly. My father and his sisters had gone to the school in Budapest for a while and were notorious.

They had an outrageous wit and were known for their high jinx. When I arrived at the school for the first time, I was introduced to the director as a refugee. The director was a dignified old gentleman with striped pants and a white beard, and he asked me, “So, what’s your name?” “Bischitz.” “Bischitz,” he repeated, mulling this over for a while. “Are you somehow related to a Fritz Bischitz?” “Yes, that is my father.” “By God! Now he’s even sending me his son!” So, he could remember the Bischitz kids very well.

My parents found work: my mother as a seamstress and my father, at first, as a truck driver at a leather factory. They earned enough so that we could eat.

My parents worked until 1942 and I was allowed to attend school. I was even a pretty good student. Starting in 1942 there were the Jewish laws. My parents were never interested in politics. I was the only person in the family who liked talking politics, even as a child. When I was nine or ten, I would often secretly listen to Radio London in Hungarian in the evening. I knew that the invasion in Normandy had begun.

There were quite a lot of Jews living in our building. The family we lived with had a daughter who was about two or three years older than me. I played with her a lot. When the Germans invaded in 1944 the house was declared a so-called “Jewish House.”

A large Star of David was painted on the house and many Jews were packed together inside. We could keep living there and didn’t have to relocate to another “Jewish House.” We had two hours in the morning and two in the evening to go shopping. This became dangerous when we had to start wearing the Star of David.

I read and was involved with politics, and an older gentleman from the building taught me to play chess. We played chess together and talked politics. He owned a leatherwear shop that was also located in our building. He survived the Holocaust and lived to a very old age.

  • During the War

At first my father was a soldier in the Hungarian Army, since he had fake papers. Then they found out that he was Jewish and he was sent for labor duty. I think that was 1942. He was sent to Russia. In Russia my father rescued a Torah scroll from a museum. The museum was looted and set on fire. Instead of taking jewels, my father saved the Torah scroll.

He managed to keep it throughout the entire war and afterwards donated it to the synagogue where he and my mother were married. That synagogue no longer exists; the communists converted it into a warehouse. I know the building; I went there and took a look at it. I don’t know what happened to the Torah scroll my father rescued. As the Russians were marching forward, my father was able to return to Hungary.

Before the Budapest ghetto came about following the German invasion in 1944, Jewish women – there were hardly any men left – were deported; even my mother. My Aunt Ilona was slightly crippled and had mobility problems; she wasn’t deported and went with us to the ghetto. She always tried to protect me.

I had become tall, which was a problem, because they almost deported me. They didn’t want to believe that I was just twelve years old. At twelve I looked like I was fifteen. That’s why I always walked stooped over. When we marched into the ghetto they were still taking people from the rows in order to deport them. In the ghetto ten people lived together in one room.

When the Allies began bombing Budapest in 1944 I rejoiced over every bomb. We knew that when we heard the bombs whistling, the danger of being hit was over. I wasn’t afraid. I was still a child, but I grew up during this time. That was a strange feeling.

We had the address of my Aunt Magda and Uncle Oszkar. That’s how I found my father after he returned from Russia, because Uncle and Aunt always knew where we were. We had discussed that we could go to Aunt and Uncle in emergencies and in life-threatening situations. My Uncle got me out of the ghetto when he found out that the ghetto was to be set on fire. He came to the ghetto and brought me a leather jacket with an Arrow Cross armband. I don’t know where he got it from. We marched out of the ghetto together giving the “Heil Hitler” salute.

My uncle then set me up in a monastery with forged papers. After two weeks, on Christmas Eve 1944, the Arrow Cross came into the bedroom at the monastery – there were 20 of us boys there. I knew that I was a Jew, but I didn’t know anything about the other boys, and they didn’t know anything about me.

Jews were hidden in many monasteries. The Arrow Cross came in the middle of the night and said: “Covers off!” And then they went from bed to bed and immediately discovered the circumcised Jews. I was coincidentally in the last row. I am a very calm person, but in this moment I shouted, “As far as I’m concerned you can take all of these Jew pigs with you now, but I want to sleep,” and pulled the covers over my head, turned over, and they moved on.

No one was actually allowed to leave the monastery, but I thought, I need to get out, they’ll be back. There was an old stove in the monastery. I strapped it on, left, put the stove down and went to my Aunt and Uncle’s. Three days later all the Jews were taken from the monastery.

They were led to the Danube, pushed into the water, and shot. I found out about that one month after liberation. An announcement was printed in the newspaper: The parents of a boy who was hidden in the monastery seek contact with someone who can tell them something. They then told me I was the only Jewish child to survive.

My uncle stole stationary from the Japanese Embassy – his workplace – and so was able to forge papers. He brought to a Sweden House, were I saw my father again. For the last two months of the war, my father and I were in one of Wallenberg’s protected Sweden Houses. We starved there and didn’t have else anything to wear. I saw Wallenberg a few times. I remember he always wore a suit and boots. We didn’t know anything about my mother at the time.

There was a kind of resistance movement in our house. They went out into the streets to try to get food and look for Russians. One time two Germans came to the house. They entered, but did not leave. The members of the resistance movement killed them. There was a lot of bombing and shooting.

Then, suddenly, the doors were thrown open and the Russians were there. We joyously welcomed them, of course. They weren’t especially friendly to us, but to us, they were God. I then tore off the yellow star, unfortunately; I could have held on to it.

Afterward my father, Aunt Ilona, and I lived with Aunt Magda and Uncle Oszkar. Uncle Oszkar had saved the lives of around thirty relatives, even distant ones. We submitted a bid to have a tree planted for him on the Avenue of the Righteous at Yad Vashem. Aunt Magda died in Budapest in 1984.

The Red Cross hung lists of survivors throughout the city. I went every day and one day discovered my mother’s name. On the list was written: Irene Bischitz, survivor of the Dachau concentration camp. My mother was in an American hospital in Germany. She only weighed 35 kilos. From the hospital she wrote to Ober Waltersdorf, since we had arranged with her that we’d either meet at our aunt’s in Budapest or in Ober Waltersdorf.

In the meantime my father and I had gone to Vienna with Russian soldiers – at this time there were no borders and you didn’t need any documents – in order to look for my mother. We walked from Vienna to Ober Waltersdorf, to the town hall, and they said, “Yes, Mrs. Bischitz has written. We know where she is and we will officially confirm that Mr. Bischitz and his son have survived.” That’s how my mother learned we were alive. Then we met up in Budapest and left for Vienna together.

My parents didn’t think for a second about going back to Ober Waltersdorf. My father got a bombed-out apartment for us in Vienna, because he promised to fix it up. He opened a textiles shop in the same building. I went to High School on Zirkus-Gasse, in the 2nd district.

I needed to readjust to the German language, but at that age it wasn’t a problem, it only takes one or two months. One problem was the schoolbooks, which were still from the Nazi era. The texts were written in a gothic script that I couldn’t read; that’s something I had to learn.

I assume most of the teachers were Nazis. Of course they never admitted it. Despite that I never had a problem. I immediately told each one I was Jewish. I was pretty tall and fairly strong – and very proud of that. I was a member of Hakoah, was a swimmer and water polo player.

I was even the newspaper sometimes. I was one hundred percent integrated at school, but my only friends were from Hakoah. I never had a Christian friend – perhaps this was because it never came about, or maybe because, subconsciously, I didn’t want any.

  • After the War

We lived in Vienna’s 2nd district until 1951. The district was part of the Russian sector, since the allies had split Vienna into four sectors after the war. Then the Korean War broke out. My parents thought that the next World War was coming and that I’d have to go to the military.

They wanted to leave – namely to a country that didn’t have military service, so not to America or Canada, not to Australia. That’s how they came up with Argentina. In Argentina there was only military service for those born in Argentina. Part of the Glaser family had survived there and they sent us an affidavit.

I didn’t want to leave Vienna. I was 19 years old and had my friends and sports in Vienna. But it would not have occurred to me to rebel or stay there on my own. Well, the prospect of becoming a Russian soldier didn’t appeal to me either.

I would have preferred to go to America; I always liked the American. I learned English in school and saw American films in the cinema. But my parents didn’t want to go to America. A took Spanish lessons a few months before we fled again.

First we took the train to Genoa, and from Genoa we went by ship to Argentina. It was a lovely journey – and an adventure for me. I had never written a journal, but I have one from this trip. Our relatives picked us up from the port in Buenos Aires. They had rented a room for us in a boardinghouse for the time being. 

We didn’t come to Argentina as rich people, but we weren’t poor either. At first there were three of us. Aunt Ilona arrived a few months later because her papers weren’t finished in time. My parents were really afraid of the Korean War. This wasn’t an escape from one day to the next – but once our papers were completed they immediately bought tickets for the ship.

The next day I went to find out if there was a Jewish sports club and immediately joined one. I continued to play water polo, swam, and made friends with the members of the sports club. They were Argentines, some were the sons of emigrants and others had immigrated before the Holocaust.

I began working, since school was out of the question. I would have had to have everything recognized. I had finished my exams at the trade school in Vienna, but in Argentina I would have probably had to study for months and take exams. I didn’t want to do that. My father began working at a textile print shop, and I joined him.

My father had two co-partners, and after a year no co-partners and almost no money. That happens fast in Argentina. Then my parents opened a knitting factory, which developed nicely. We all worked in the knitting factory – even my wife after we were married.

New immigrants arrived to the building we were living in: Czechs, Austrians, and a Hungarian family with their daughter. The daughter went to school with my future wife. That’s how we met. We were engaged for one year, then we had a Jewish wedding in the large synagogue in Buenos Aires.

My wife’s maiden name is Ida Lubowicz. She was born on 27 July 1937 in Lutsk [today Ukraine], which was in Poland back then. Up until the end of the war she lived with her parents in hiding in Poland. Then they immigrated to Italy and then to Argentina in 1951. My wife’s mother tongue is Yiddish.

My wife can’t speak a word of Polish; they only spoke Yiddish at home. She went to school in Italy the first years. She finished her exams in Argentina and then worked with my parents and me in the knitting factory.

My parents-in-law and their children were the only survivors of what was once a very large family. Once, after the war, my wife went to Poland with her mother. They wanted to look for relatives. They didn’t find anyone; they had all been murdered and she  – a 16-year-old girl at the time – was called a “Jewess pig” on the street. 

We had two children. Our son, Roberto Bischitz, was born on 5 November 1959 in Buenos Aires and our daughter, Deborah Weicman, née Bischitz, was born on 19 April 1965. Our children were raised Jewish. Both completed their exams at the Pestalozzi School in Buenos Aires.

That was a bilingual private school for German and Spanish – I’m sure 50 to 60 percent of the students there were Jewish. Our children joined youth groups that met once a week in the synagogue. We went to the synagogue together on holidays. Naturally my son became a Bar Mitzvah when he turned thirteen.

My father-in-law and I got along very well. I met him fifteen years before his death when he was a powerful and very sensible businessman. I loved my in-laws and they loved me – we had a lovely family life. Every Friday my mother-in-law lit candles and went to the synagogue.

Within two years my parents and in-laws all passed away. My father died in 1971, my mother in 1973. My father-in-law had a stroke and was paralyzed for seven years before he died. My mother-in-law died of cancer.

The economic situation in Argentina became progressively worse. In 1984 we relocated to Vienna. I was never too fond of Argentina; I could never get used to the South American mentality: the unpunctuality, the people’s payment morality, the climate. I always thought differently than the Argentines.

Probably I always remained a European. My wife was an enthusiastic Argentine back then. She had her two brothers and their families in Buenos Aries. Today you simply can’t live in Argentina any more, it’s terrible: unemployment, poverty, and there’s a murder every three hours.

So we went to Vienna and lived first in the 7th district. I worked as a sales representative; I had textile agencies from Portugal.

My son was 25 and had married an Argentine Christian in Argentina. Even my daughter-in-law came to Vienna. She worked and my son went to the Technical University for a few years. He wanted to be an engineer, but then discontinued his studies. He is self-employed and teaches rhetoric.

We have a granddaughter, Nastassia. She is my son’s daughter. She lives with her mother in Buenos Aires. Their marriage fell apart and my daughter-in-law went with the child back to Argentina. My son stayed in Vienna and flies back to Argentina as often as he can. Now that Nastassia is older she comes to Vienna once a year and stays for one or two months.

My daughter didn’t like Austria. She worked for some time as a saleswoman at Schöps [a textile chain] on Stephans-Platz. But she is a real second-generation Holocaust victim. She wants nothing to do with Germans and Austrians. She told us, “I am Argentine and lost nothing in Austria.” Then she returned. She worked in Buenos Aires as a trilingual secretary. Unfortunately she is unemployed at the moment.

She is an especially good Jew, but she isn’t religious. As it was with me, it would have been impossible for her to marry a non-Jew. She was, of course, married in the synagogue; that was self-evident for her. My son is different in this regard.

We went to Israel a few times. I am not a Zionist, I was never a Zionist, but I liked it there. I am unconditionally pro-Israel, but my wife and I never thought about living in Israel. We liked it, but we were tourists and knew that we were tourists.

I was often in Hungary for business. For years I was in Budapest once a week. When I see old Hungarians I imagine them in Arrow Cross uniforms. I am not fond of Hungary. Budapest is a beautiful city, but God forbid having to live there!

Until Haider, I had successfully repressed the past – consciously or unconsciously. I don’t watch any films or read any books about concentrations camps. My wife is always watching those kinds of films. Though after Haider the past was somehow opened.

I have no memories of the Austrian Anschluss or the persecution in Austria. I only hate the Hungarians. To me the Hungarians are the Nazis. I like being an Austrian, and you could almost say that I love Vienna. I like being here and don’t have the same problem most people have – even my wife – when they see old people. If they’re wearing beautiful jewels, for example, they always ask themselves: Which dead Jew do those come from? That would happen to me in Hungary.

In Hungary I was always getting into fights at school, because they would call me “Jewish swine.” That wasn’t in Vienna. Only once did I take revenge. On the first day after liberation I beat up the boys that had always tortured me at school. I sought them out, found them, and trounced them.

Later I had a few Jewish customers in my business in Vienna. All the other customers knew that I was Jewish, but I never had a problem. I never made a secret of it. Besides which I probably look Jewish, and the Austrians – I know my countrymen – can somehow smell the Jews.

I know that they’re anti-Semites. I’ve just never felt it myself. I know that they murdered. I know that, relatively speaking, there were more Austrians in the SS than Germans. I know all of that. I also know that Hungarians are worse anti-Semites, and that the Poles and Ukrainians are even worse. I am aware that they are, for sure: unconscious and hidden – and nowadays not so hidden.

I felt really good, felt very at home, after returning to Vienna. I didn’t get too upset over Waldheim. I mean, if this man was UN Secretary General twice in a row, then they had really put him through his paces. I am also still convinced that he wasn’t actually a Nazi, just a liar and an opportunist. He just worked through the past in his own way, namely by repressing it.

I have my problems with Haider. I’m convinced that he’ll never become Federal Chancellor, only I was also convinced that his party, the FPÖ, would never get more than ten percent of the vote, and then they got 25 percent! But I do believe that it’s over now with Haider.

There has and always will be anti-Semitism. I don’t know who said this: Anti-Semitism isn’t a problem with the Jews; it’s a problem with the anti-Semites. Only we have to live with it.

We live in a building from the Jewish Community. Our Jewish life has been more active since we’ve been living here. We receive the Jewish Community newspaper and go to events. Once a month we also go to a meeting with the former Hakoah people in Café Schottenring.

I always say, whoever in Vienna wants a Jewish life with these few Jews, can attend some sort of event every day – not a problem. We don’t live a religiously Jewish life, but rather a social Jewish life. But of course we go to synagogue on the High Holidays.

My wife never really settled into Vienna. Our grandchild is in Argentina and she is very close with her younger brother in Argentina. Of course it hurts her to see the family in Argentina so infrequently. But ever since we founded our own “ghetto,” so to speak, in our building, things are going better for her. But that might also have something to do with the fact that she can no longer feel at home in Argentina. And we’re too old to leave Vienna.

Heinz Bischitz

Heinz Bischitz
Wien
Österreich
Interviewer: Tanja Eckstein 
Datum des Interviews: März 2003 

Heinz Bischitz wohnt in einem Haus der Jüdischen Kultusgemeinde im 2. Bezirk.

Ich hatte ihn schon vor sechs Monaten gebeten, mir ein Interview zu geben, was er aber nach einiger Überlegung ablehnte.

Deshalb war ich sehr überrascht, als ich von ESRA 1 erfuhr, dass er doch bereit sei, mir ein Interview zu geben.

Heinz Bischitz ist ein großer, kräftiger Mann mit vollem Haar. Er wirkt sehr ruhig und ausgeglichen, ein Eindruck, der durch sein Pfeifen rauchen noch verstärkt wird.

Heinz Bischitz ist 2012 gestorben.

  • Meine Familiengeschichte

Mein Großvater väterlicherseits hieß Moritz Bischitz. Er wurde ungefähr 1870 in Mattersburg geboren [geboren am 9.3.1872; Quelle: DÖW Datenbank] und war ein traditioneller Jude. Seine Muttersprache war Deutsch. Ich nehme an, er war in der k.u.k. Armee 2, aber komischerweise hat nie jemand darüber gesprochen.

Der Großvater hatte den Beruf des Tischlermeisters gelernt und arbeitete als Modelltischler. Er hatte einen Zwirbelschnurrbart, rauchte eine lange Pfeife, und ich kann mich erinnern, in seiner Tischlerwerkstatt roch es immer nach Leim.

Ich glaube, mein Großvater arbeitete allein in der Werkstatt - ich sah nie Angestellte. Er war Modelltischler, das war fast künstlerische Schnitzarbeit, die er gemacht hat. Er hatte sich auch spezialisiert auf Gussformen für die Industrie, das war Präzisionsarbeit.

Der Großvater hatte Geschwister, zwei oder drei Brüder und Schwestern, die haben den Krieg nicht überlebt. Zu denen hatte ich vielleicht Kontakt, als ich ganz klein war, aber ich kann mich überhaupt nicht erinnern. Ich weiß auch nicht, wie die hießen.

Meine Großmutter väterlicherseits hieß Caroline Bischitz und war eine geborene Glaser. Sie wurde in Schottwien geboren, aber ich weiß nicht wann [geboren am 10.1.1879; Quelle: DÖW Datenbank]. Schottwien liegt zwischen Wien und dem Semmering.

Die Großmutter war eine ziemlich große kräftige Frau. Sie hatte eine Schwester, Johanna Glaser. Beide kamen in Theresienstadt 3 um. Die Schwestern und mein Großvater Moritz wurden zusammen aus Wien am 28.7.1942 nach Theresienstadt deportiert.

Johanna Glaser starb einen Monat später, am 28.8.1942 in Theresienstadt, Caroline und Moritz Bischitz wurden weiter in das Vernichtungslager Treblinka deportiert und ermordet [Quelle: DÖW Datenbank].

Die Brüder der Großmutter hießen Moritz Glaser und Bernhard Glaser. Beide emigrierten 1938 mit ihren Familien nach Argentinien und kehrten nicht mehr nach Österreich zurück.

Die Großeltern wohnten bis 1938 in Teesdorf bei ihrer Tochter Martha und dem Schwiegersohn Leo Lichtblau. Sie wohnten in einem großen Haus, in dem der Großvater auch seine Werkstätte hatte. Es war ein für österreichische Dörfer typisches einstöckiges Haus. Vorn war das Geschäft, dahinter die Wohnung mit einem Garten und der Werkstatt meines Großvaters. Im Haus war es sehr dunkel.

Meine Großeltern mussten 1938 nach Wien übersiedeln und wohnten dann im 2. Bezirk bis sie nach Theresienstadt deportiert und ermordet wurden.

Die Großeltern hatten zwei Söhne und eine Tochter. Mein Vater hieß Fritz Bischitz und wurde in Mattersburg im Jahre 1904 geboren. Er war der Älteste der Geschwister. Mein Vater war ein traditioneller Jude, zu den hohen Feiertagen ging er in den Tempel, und er fastete zu Jom Kippur 4.

Mein Onkel hatte einen ungarischen Namen, er hieß Geza Bischitz. Er wurde so um 1908/1909 geboren und war mit Gisela Tichler verheiratet. Sie hatten einen Sohn, Peter, der 1935 geboren wurde. Onkel und Tante hatten in Traisen, das ist in Niederösterreich, bis 1938 einen Gemischtwarenladen. Dort gab es alles zu kaufen, wie das damals üblich war.

1938 emigrierten alle zusammen nach England und kamen nicht mehr nach Österreich zurück. Mein Onkel Geza und die Tante Gisela hatten nach dem Krieg in London ein kleines Geschäft. Mein Cousin Peter lebt in London, der Onkel und die Tante sind schon lange tot.

Mit meinem Cousin bin ich in Verbindung. Er kommt relativ oft nach Wien. Vor zwei Jahren hat er in St. Pölten das ehemalige Dienstmädchen der Familie besucht und sie sprachen über die alten Zeiten. Sie ist uralt und hat sich noch an ihn erinnern können.

Wir waren oft bei den Großeltern, meiner Tante Martha, der Schwester meines Vaters und dem Onkel Leo zu Besuch. Wir lebten in Ober Waltersdorf, Tante Martha in Teesdorf, das sind zwei Dörfer weiter, und Traisen ist auch nicht sehr weit entfernt. Ich habe damals alles auseinander genommen, also sozusagen repariert. Deshalb bekam ich zu meinem Geburtstag von meiner Großmutter immer einen alten Wecker zum 'reparieren', das hat mich sehr glücklich gemacht.

Der Kontakt zwischen meinem Vater und seinen Geschwistern war immer da, nur in der Kriegszeit nicht. Mein Cousin Peter hat drei Söhne. Die leben alle in England. Der Älteste heißt Keith, der Mittlere heißt Ian und der Jüngste heißt Neil. Auch zwischen den Cousins und Cousinen und den Kindern der Cousins und Cousinen besteht noch eine Verbindung.

Tante Martha Lichtblau, geborene Bischitz, war die Schwester meines Vaters. Sie war mit Leo Lichtblau verheiratet. Die Martha und der Leo waren beide gelernte Schneider. Ihre Tochter Susi wurde 1933 geboren, sie ist leider vergangenes Jahr gestorben. Mein Onkel und meine Tante besaßen in Teesdorf auch einen Gemischtwarenladen.

Sie emigrierten 1938 nach England und sind nach dem Krieg dort geblieben. Nach dem Krieg hatten meine Tante und mein Onkel in London so eine Art Trafik. Nur verkauften sie auch Schokolade; ein Drugstore war das. Meine Cousine Susi hatte zwei Söhne: Rufus und Giles. Sie leben in London, aber der Kontakt zwischen uns ist nicht sehr groß.

Mein Großvater mütterlicherseits hieß Armin Knöpfler. Soweit ich weiß, wurde er um 1870 in Budapest geboren. Seine Muttersprache war Ungarisch. Von Beruf war er Kaufmann. In welcher Branche weiß ich nicht. Es war irgendetwas mit Textilien, nehme ich an. Ich vermute, dass er irgendwann in der ungarischen k.u.k. Armee gedient hat. Sicher hatte er Brüder und Schwestern, aber gekannt habe ich keine.

Meine Großmutter, Maria Knöpfler, war eine geborene Fleischer. Ich nehme an, sie wurde in Budapest geboren, auf alle Fälle aber in Ungarn. Ihre Muttersprache war ungarisch. Sie war eine religiöse Frau. Die Großmutter trug meistens ein Kopftuch - meine Mutter glaubte, ihre Mutter hätte eine Perücke getragen. Wahrscheinlich war das selbstverständlich und man sprach nicht darüber. An Geschwister der Großmutter kann ich mich nicht erinnern.

Meine Großeltern waren religiös, aber sie führten keinen koscheren Haushalt 5, weil sie zusammen mit ihrer Tochter Magda lebten, die mit einem Christen verheiratet war. Den Schabbat 6 hielten sie, und jeden Freitag wurden Kerzen gezündet, solange das möglich war. Mein Großvater ging auch jeden Schabbat in die Synagoge. Die Synagoge, eine richtige große Synagoge, kein Bethaus, war in der Nähe ihrer Wohnung.

Ich kann mich sehr gut an die Sederabende 7 mit den Großeltern erinnern und auch daran, dass sie nie zu Ende gingen. Der Großvater hat von A bis Z alles durchgebetet, also die ganze Hagadah 8. Da hat man das Essen ständig unterbrochen, dann ist weiter gebetet worden.

Es wurde alles so gemacht, wie es in der Hagadah steht - er hat nicht einmal einen Beistrich oder einen Punkt ausgelassen. Ich habe den Großvater nach dem Krieg einige Male besucht, da saß er meistens in der Küche und rauchte eine lange Pfeife. Beide Großväter rauchten lange Pfeifen, und beide trugen den gleichen Schnurrbart. Der Großvater Knöpfler besuchte uns vor dem Krieg jeden Sommer für einige Wochen in Ober Waltersdorf.

Von Beruf war er Kaufmann, in welcher Branche weiß ich nicht, es war irgendetwas mit Textilien, nehme ich an. Den Holocaust überlebten die Großeltern in Budapest, versteckt von ihrer Tochter Magda und deren christlichen Ehemann. Meine Großmutter starb 1947 oder 1948, mein Großvater 1949 oder 1950, einige Jahre nach dem Krieg, in Budapest. Da war schon Kommunismus in Ungarn, und meine Mutter durfte nicht zum Begräbnis fahren; sie haben sie nicht reingelassen.

Die Großeltern hatten sechs Kinder. Meine Mutter wurde als Irene Knöpfler am 23. Jänner 1906 in Nitra geboren. Nitra ist in der heutigen Slowakei. Warum und wann die Familie von Nitra nach Budapest zog, weiß ich nicht. Meine Mutter war eine gelernte Schneiderin. Sie war sehr bewusst jüdisch, aber sie führte nie einen koscheren Haushalt, und wir feierten auch den Schabbat nicht. An den Feiertagen fuhren meine Eltern nach Baden oder nach Wien.

Die älteste Schwester meiner Mutter war die Tante Ilona Knöpfler. Ich glaube, sie wurde 1898 geboren. Sie heiratete nie und lebte immer mit uns zusammen - dadurch hatte ich zwei Mütter. Sie führte den Haushalt, weil meine Mutter immer arbeitete. Wir emigrierten zusammen nach Ungarn, gingen zusammen nach Wien und zusammen nach Argentinien. Sie starb am 5. Juni 1967 in Buenos Aires.

Der Onkel Manfred Knöpfler wurde 1901 geboren. Er war verheiratet mit einer Christin, leider half ihm das im Holocaust nicht - er wurde trotzdem deportiert. Er hatte einen Sohn Georg, der lebt noch heute in Budapest.

Tante Magda Joo, geborene Knöpfler, war mit Oszkar Joo verheiratet. Er war nicht jüdisch und arbeitete während des Krieges als Chauffeur in der Japanischen Botschaft. Wo er vor dem Krieg gearbeitet hat, weiß ich nicht. Sie hatten einen Sohn Alexander.

Die jüngste Schwester meiner Mutter wurde immer nur Nuschi genannt, ich weiß nicht, wie sie wirklich hieß. Sie war mit Manfred Schlanger verheiratet. Er war Jude, sie hatten zwei Kinder: Kathalina und Karoly. Manfred Schlanger war Kaufmann, aber ich weiß nicht mehr in welcher Branche. Sie überlebten den Holocaust versteckt in Budapest.

Anton Knöpfler, der jüngste Bruder meiner Mutter, wurde am 12. Dezember 1912 geboren. Er hatte einen kaufmännischen Beruf. Er war ein sehr sportlicher Mann. Er wurde in ein KZ deportiert, überlebte mit einem Gewicht von 32 Kilo. Nach dem Krieg heiratete er eine Belgierin und wanderte einige Monate nach dem Krieg aus Budapest nach Belgien aus. Dort starb er relativ jung in den 1960er-Jahren.

Meine Großeltern väterlicherseits und mütterlicherseits verstanden sich gut und so lange es ging, besuchten sie sich gegenseitig. Es war immer, trotz der Entfernung - die einen lebten in Österreich, die anderen in Ungarn - eine Verbindung da. Die Tanten, Onkel und mein Vater hatten alle ein Auto, so konnte man sich oft besuchen.

Meine Eltern waren sehr jung, als sie sich kennen lernten. Einige Jahre haben mein Vater und seine Geschwister in Budapest die Schule besucht. Die Geschichte von Mattersburg und vom Burgenland ist eine österreichisch- ungarische Geschichte.

Das Burgenland gehörte eine Zeit lang zu Ungarn, dann kam es zu Österreich. Mein Vater wuchs zweisprachig auf und absolvierte seine letzten zwei, drei Schuljahre aus irgendwelchen Gründen, in Budapest. In dieser Zeit lernte er wahrscheinlich auch meine Mutter kennen. Meine Eltern heirateten 1930 in Budapest in der Synagoge. Das war dieselbe Synagoge, in die mein Großvater immer zum Beten ging. Damals hieß die Straße Arena utca.

Nachdem meine Eltern geheiratet hatten, zog meine Mutter zu meinem Vater nach Ober Waltersdorf. Ober Waltersdorf ist heute ein Städtchen, damals war es ein Dorf. Aber es gab eine eigene Eisenbahnstation. Die nächste Synagoge war in Baden.

Vor uns war dort kein jüdisches Geschäft. Vielleicht ist das der Grund, weshalb sich meine Eltern dort ansiedelten. Aber vielleicht auch deshalb, weil das Dorf in der Nähe von Teesdorf lag, in dem meine Großeltern lebten. Der Verkaufsraum des Geschäfts bestand aus 100 Quadratmetern.

Es gab Lebensmittel frische Lebensmittel und Lebensmittel in Dosen, Wein, Bier, Seife und Textilkurzwaren - das waren Hemden, Unterhosen, Socken, Schürzen, Stoffe und Garne. Mein Vater hat auch Nähmaschinen verkauft, er hatte sogar eine Nähmaschinenvertretung.

Die Beziehung der Ober Waltersdorfer zu uns war bis zum März 1938 sehr gut. Ich weiß nicht, ob wir die einzigen Juden im Ort waren, vielleicht hat es aber noch zwei, drei jüdische Familien gegeben; mehr waren es aber sicher nicht.

  • Meine Kindheit

Ich wurde am 19. April 1932 in Baden geboren, denn in Ober Waltersdorf gab es kein Spital. An dem Tag meiner Geburt pflanzte mein Vater in unserem Garten einen Nussbaum. Vor einem Jahr fuhr ich mit meinem Sohn an dem Garten vorbei, der Nussbaum steht in voller Pracht.

Bevor meine Eltern das Geschäft in Ober Waltersdorf hatten, haben sie Urlaub am Plattensee gemacht, ich glaube, sie waren auch einmal in Italien. Später haben wir sehr oft gemeinsam Tagesausflüge zum Semmering oder auf die Rax gemacht, denn das Geschäft war nur sonntags geschlossen.

Meine Eltern waren zum Vergnügen auch sehr oft in Baden. Sie gingen dort ins Theater, in dem Operetten gespielt wurden, ins Kaffeehaus Withalm am Josefsplatz zum Tanz, und sie trafen sich oft mit der Schwester meines Vaters und hielten Familiensitzungen ab. Das Kaffeehaus Withalm gibt es noch heute. In Wien gingen meine Eltern bestimmt ins Kino.

Mein Vater hatte durch seine sportlichen Aktivitäten viele Bekannte. Sie trafen sich aber eher im Lokal, als bei uns zu Hause. Er spielte in der Fußballmannschaft und fuhr Motorradrennen, das Motorrad hatte einen Beiwagen, für Ober Waltersdorf. Der Fußballplatz war vis-à-vis von uns.

Für das Geschäft besaß mein Vater auch ein Mottorad, aber ein besonderes, denn er lieferte Ware und musste Ware einkaufen. Wir besaßen auch ein Auto, ich habe sogar noch den Beleg über die Konfiszierung des Autos durch die Nazis:

Im Jahre 1938, als wir bereits aus Ober Waltersdorf vertrieben waren, wurde unser Auto 'arisiert', das heißt gestohlen. Das lief alles sehr bürokratisch ab, wir bekamen diesen Brief mit einem Foto unseres Autos, in dem stand:

Ober-Waltersdorf, 17. Okt. 1938 Herrn Fritz Bischitz in Wien 2., Bezirk

Ich teile Ihnen mit, daß ihr Kleinauto vom ehemaligen Führer des Sturmes 35 (Kral) beschlagnahmt und zum Sitze des Sturmes nach Leobersdorf gebracht wurde. Wo sich das Auto dzt. befindet, ist mir unbekannt.

der Führer des Sturmes 18/84.

Selbst das Fahrrad haben sie konfisziert.

Mein Vater war ein großer Hobbyfotograf. Ich glaube, er hatte eine deutsche Kamera, die Voigtländer hieß. Eine Leica hat er sich sicher nicht leisten können. Eine Zeitlang bildete er sich ein, er könne aus seiner Fotografie- Leidenschaft einen Beruf machen und er studierte sogar ein oder zwei Jahre nebenbei Fotografie. Da es noch keine Farbfotos gab, lernte er, die Fotos zu kolorieren. Mit Fotofarben, die waren in kleinen Fläschchen und mit Pinseln, hat er die Fotos bemalt: das war eine Kunst.

Er war ein lustiger und temperamentvoller Mensch und hatte einen ausgeprägten Humor. Ich habe sehr viel in den ersten Jahren meines Lebens gelacht, weil mein Vater so ein lustiger Mensch war. Aber er stritt auch viel und oft mit jedem, und wenn er sich aufregte, dann brüllte er, das war kein Schreien mehr.

Er stritt mit meiner Mutter, mit meiner Tante, mit mir und mit jedem. Da brüllte er sich aus, dann war er beruhigt. Fünf Minuten lang war er böse mit der ganzen Welt und dann war wieder alles in Ordnung. Er konnte sich über alles aufregen, was ihm nicht passte. Manchmal raufte er auch. Sogar als er schon ein älterer Mann war. Er hatte einen Kunden in Argentinien, der nicht zahlen wollen, den wollte er verprügeln.

Meine Mutter sprach Deutsch mit ungarischem Akzent. Sie war auch sehr lustig, hatte eine wunderbare Stimme und sang gern ungarische Volkslieder und Lieder aus Operetten. Sie arbeitete sehr gern im Geschäft, der Haushalt war nicht so sehr ihre Sache. Tante Ilona hat den Haushalt geführt. Tante Ilona war von Anfang an da. Als meine Eltern heirateten, kam sie mit. Sie kochte wunderbar. Mittags wurde das Geschäft geschlossen und wir aßen alle gemeinsam.

Es gab Bekannte im Ort, die waren am Anschlusstag 9 sofort bei uns. Nicht alle, aber einige holten sich Sachen von uns. 1938 kam der Onkel Oszkar, der Mann der Tante Magda aus Budapest - er war ja Christ - und holte uns alle nach Ungarn.

Mich holte hat er zum Beispiel mit den Papieren seines Sohnes geholt, und die anderen mit gefälschten Papieren. Das passierte langsam, im Laufe von einigen Monaten. Er holte meine Mutter, meinen Vater, meine Tante Ilona und mich. Er hat uns alle gerettet.

In Budapest mieteten wir im 13. Bezirk, das war ein Arbeiterbezirk, ein Zimmer in einer großen Wohnung einer ungarisch-jüdischen Familie. Die Küche und das Bad durften wir mitbenutzen.

Ich kam dann in die erste Klasse, ich war sechs Jahre alt. Das war eine ganz normale staatliche Schule, es gab ein paar Juden, aber nicht allzu viele. Zuerst kam ich mit der ungarischen Sprache nicht richtig zurecht, aber ich lernte die Sprache schnell.

Mein Vater und seine Geschwister gingen ja in Budapest eine Zeitlang in die Schule und waren dort berüchtigt. Sie besaßen einen eher ausgefallenen Witz und waren bekannt für ihre Streiche. Als ich das erste Mal in die Schule kam, wurde ich dem Direktor als Flüchtling vorgestellt.

Der Direktor war ein ehrwürdiger alter Herr mit gestreifter Hose und weißem Bart, und er fragte mich: 'Na, wie heißt du?' ,Bischitz.' Bischitz', wiederholte er und dachte eine Weile nach. 'Bist du irgendwie mit einem Fritz Bischitz verwandt?' 'Ja, das ist mein Vater.' 'Um Gottes Willen, jetzt schickt er mir auch noch seinen Sohn.' Also, an die Bischitz Kinder konnte er sich genau erinnern.

Meine Eltern fanden Arbeit, die Mutter als Schneiderin, der Vater zuerst als Lastwagenchauffeur in einer Lederfabrik, und sie verdienten so viel, dass wir genug zu essen hatten.

Bis 1942 arbeiteten meine Eltern und ich durfte in die Schule gehen. Ich war sogar ein relativ guter Schüler. Ab 1942 gab es die Judengesetze 10. Meine Eltern hatten sich nie für Politik interessiert. Der einzige der Familie, der gern politisierte, schon als Kind, war ich. Als ich neun oder zehn Jahre alt war, hörte ich oft heimlich am Abend Radio London in ungarischer Sprache. Ich wusste, dass die Invasion in der Normandie begonnen hatte.

In unserem Haus wohnten ziemlich viele Juden. Die Familie, bei der wir wohnten, hatte eine Tochter, die war zwei, drei Jahre älter als ich. Ich habe oft mit ihr gespielt. Das Haus wurde, als die Deutschen 1944 einmarschierten, zum so genannten 'jüdischen Haus' deklariert.

Ein großer Judenstern wurde aufs Haus gemalt und viele Juden darin zusammengepfercht. Dadurch konnten wir aber dort wohnen bleiben, wir mussten nicht in ein anderes 'jüdisches Haus' übersiedeln. Wir durften zwei Stunden in der Früh und zwei Stunden am Abend einkaufen gehen, aber als das Tragen des Judensterns Pflicht wurde, war es für uns gefährlich.

Ich las, beschäftigte mich mit Politik, und ein älterer Herr, der auch im Haus lebte, hat mir das Schachspielen beigebracht. Wir spielten gemeinsam Schach und politisierten dabei. Ihm gehörte ein Ledergeschäft, das sich im selben Haus befand. Er überlebte den Holocaust und wurde sehr alt.

  • Während des Krieges

Zuerst wurde mein Vater Soldat der ungarischen Armee, weil er falsche Papiere hatte. Dann kamen sie dahinter, dass er Jude war, und er wurde zum Arbeitsdienst eingezogen, ich glaube, das war 1942. Er wurde nach Russland geschickt.

In Russland rettete mein Vater eine Thorarolle aus einem Museum. Das Museum wurde geplündert und angezündet. Statt sich Juwelen zu nehmen, rettete mein Vater die Thorarolle. Er rettete sie über den ganzen Krieg und schenkte sie danach der Synagoge, in der er meine Mutter geheiratet hatte.

Heute gibt es die Synagoge nicht mehr, die Kommunisten haben sie zu einem Speicher umgebaut. Ich kenne das Gebäude, ich war dort und habe es mir angeschaut. Was mit der Thorarolle geschah, die mein Vater gerettet hatte, weiß ich nicht. Als die Russen dann vormarschierten, schaffte es mein Vater nach Ungarn zurückzukommen.

Bevor das Ghetto 1944 in Budapest nach dem Einmarsch der Deutschen entstand, wurden jüdische Frauen, Männer waren ja fast keine mehr da, deportiert; auch meine Mutter. Meine Tante Ilona war etwas verkrüppelt und gehbehindert, sie wurde nicht deportiert, sie ging mit mir zusammen ins Ghetto.

Sie versuchte immer, mich zu beschützen. Ich war groß gewachsen, das war ein Problem, weil sie mich fast deportiert hätten. Sie wollten nicht glauben, dass ich erst zwölf Jahre alt bin. Ich sah mit meinen zwölf Jahren aus wie Fünfzehn. Darum ging ich dann immer gebückt. Als wir ins Ghetto marschierten, holten sie auch noch Leute aus den Reihen, um sie zu deportieren. Im Ghetto lebten zehn Menschen in einem Zimmer.

Als die Alliierten begannen, Budapest 1944 zu bombardieren, freute ich mich über jede Bombe. Wir wussten, wenn man das Pfeifen der Bomben hörte, war die Gefahr, getroffen zu werden, vorüber. Ich hatte keine Angst. Ich war noch ein Kind, aber in dieser Zeit wurde ich erwachsen, das war ein komisches Gefühl.

Wir hatten die Adresse meiner Tante Magda und des Onkels Oszkar. Dadurch fand mich mein Vater nach seiner Rückkehr aus Russland, weil Onkel und Tante immer wussten, wo wir waren. Es war besprochen, dass man im Notfall und unter Lebensgefahr, zur Tante und zum Onkel gehen konnte.

Mein Onkel holte mich aus dem Ghetto, als er erfuhr, dass das Ghetto angezündet werden sollte. Er kam und brachte eine Lederjacke mit Pfeilkreuzler Armband 11 für mich ins Ghetto, ich weiß nicht, woher er die hatte. Gemeinsam marschierten wir mit einem 'Heil Hitler' aus dem Ghetto.

Mein Onkel brachte mich dann mit gefälschten Papieren in einem Kloster unter. Nach zwei Wochen, am Weihnachtsabend 1944, kamen Pfeilkreuzler in das Schlafzimmer des Klosters, ich glaube, wir waren zwanzig Buben dort. Ich wusste, dass ich Jude bin, aber ich wusste nichts über die anderen Burschen, und die anderen wussten nichts über mich.

In vielen Klöstern waren Juden versteckt. Die Pfeilkreuzler kamen mitten in der Nacht und sagten: 'Alle aufdecken!' Und dann gingen sie von Bett zu Bett, entdeckten sofort die beschnittenen Juden. Ich war zufällig der Letzte in der Reihe. Ich bin ein sehr ruhiger Mensch, aber in diesem Moment brüllte ich: 'Von mir aus nehmt's diese ganzen Saujuden jetzt mit, aber ich will schlafen', zog mir die Decke über den Kopf, drehte mich um, und die gingen wieder.

Eigentlich durfte niemand das Kloster verlassen, aber ich dachte, ich muss da raus, die kommen wieder. Im Kloster stand ein alter Ofen, den schulterte ich, ging hinaus, stellte den Ofen hin und ging zu meiner Tante und meinem Onkel. Drei Tage später wurden alle Juden aus dem Kloster abgeholt.

Sie wurden zur Donau geführt, ins Wasser getrieben und erschossen. Ich erfuhr das einen Monat nach der Befreiung. In der Zeitung stand eine Annonce: die Eltern eines Jungen, der in diesem Kloster versteckt war suchten Verbindung mit jemandem, der ihnen etwas erzählen könnte. Sie haben mir dann erzählt, dass kein jüdisches Kind, außer mir, überlebt hat.

Mein Onkel stahl in der japanischen Botschaft, seiner Arbeitsstelle, Briefpapier und konnte dadurch Papiere fälschen. Er brachte mich in ein Schwedenhaus, in dem ich meinen Vater wiedertraf. Mein Vater und ich waren dann die letzten zwei Monate des Krieges in einem von Wallenbergs 12 geschützten Schwedenhäusern. Da hungerten wir und hatten nichts mehr zum Anziehen. Einige Male sah ich Wallenberg. Immer trug er einen Anzug und Stiefel, daran erinnere ich mich. Über meine Mutter wussten wir zu dem Zeitpunkt nichts.

In unserem Haus gab es eine Art Widerstandsbewegung. Die gingen auf die Strasse, versuchten Lebensmittel zu besorgen und schauten nach den Russen. Ein einziges Mal kamen zwei Deutsche in unser Haus. Die kamen herein, aber gingen nicht mehr hinaus. Die Mitglieder der Widerstandsbewegung brachten sie um. Es wurde sehr viel bombardiert und geschossen.

Dann, auf einmal flog die Tür auf und die Russen waren da. Wir begrüßten sie natürlich sehr freudig. Sie waren nicht besonders freundlich zu uns, aber für uns waren sie der liebe Gott. Leider habe ich dann den gelben Stern zerrissen, den hätte ich mir aufheben können.

Mein Vater, Tante Ilona und ich wohnten danach bei Tante Magda und Onkel Oszkar. Der Onkel Oszkar hat cirka dreißig Verwandten, auch weitläufigen, das Leben gerettet. Wir haben bei Yad Vashem 13 eingereicht, dass in der Straße der Gerechten 14 für ihn ein Baum gepflanzt wird. Tante Magda starb 1984 in Budapest.

Es hingen Listen vom Roten Kreuz mit Überlebenden in der Stadt, da ging ich jeden Tag hin und entdeckte eines Tages den Namen meiner Mutter. Auf der Liste stand: Irene Bischitz, Überlebende KZ Dachau. Meine Mutter war in einem amerikanischen Spital in Deutschland, sie wog nur noch 35 Kilo. Von dort hatte sie schon nach Ober Waltersdorf geschrieben, weil wir mit ihr besprochen hatten, entweder treffen wir uns bei der Tante in Budapest oder in Ober Waltersdorf.

Mein Vater und ich waren in der Zwischenzeit mit russischen Soldaten - zu dieser Zeit gab es keine Grenze und man brauchte keine Dokumente - nach Wien gekommen, um meine Mutter zu suchen. Von Wien gingen wir zu Fuß nach Ober Waltersdorf aufs Gemeindeamt und die sagten: ,Ja, die Frau Bischitz hat geschrieben, wir wissen wo sie ist, wir werden sie offiziell verständigen, dass der Herr Bischitz und sein Sohn überlebt haben.' So hat meine Mutter erfahren, dass wir leben. Wir trafen uns dann in Budapest und gingen gemeinsam nach Wien.

Meine Eltern dachten keine Sekunde daran, nach Ober Waltersdorf zurück zu gehen. In Wien bekam mein Vater für uns eine zerbombte Wohnung, weil er versprach, sie wieder in Ordnung zu bringen. Er eröffnete ein Textilgeschäft im selben Haus.

Ich ging ins Gymnasium in der Zirkusgasse im 2. Bezirk. Ich musste mich auf die deutsche Sprache umstellen, aber in diesem Alter dauert das einen Monat, oder zwei, das war kein Problem. Ein Problem waren die Schulbücher, die noch aus der Nazizeit waren. Die Texte waren in gotischer Schrift, die konnte ich nicht lesen, das musste ich lernen.

Ich nehme an, dass die meisten Lehrer Nazis waren - natürlich gaben sie es nicht zu - trotzdem hatte ich nie ein Problem. Ich sagte sofort jedem, dass ich Jude bin. Ich war ziemlich groß und ziemlich kräftig und sehr stolz darauf. . Ich wurde Mitglied der Hakoah 15, war Schwimmer und Wasserballer. Manchmal stand ich sogar in der Zeitung.

In der Schule war ich hundert Prozent integriert, Freunde hatte ich aber nur innerhalb der Hakoah; ich hatte nie einen christlichen Freund. Wahrscheinlich hat es sich nicht ergeben oder unbewusst wollte ich nicht.

  • Nach dem Krieg

Wir lebten bis 1951 im 2. Wiener Gemeindebezirk. Der 2. Bezirk gehörte zur russischen Zone, denn Wien war nach dem Krieg von den Alliierten in vier Zonen aufgeteilt worden. Dann brach der Koreakrieg 16 aus. Meine Eltern glaubten, jetzt käme der nächste Weltkrieg, und ich würde ich zum Militär müssen.

Sie wollten weg und zwar in ein Land, wo es keinen Militärdienst gab: also nicht nach Amerika, nicht nach Kanada, nicht nach Australien. Und so kamen sie auf Argentinien. In Argentinien gab es nur einen Militärdienst für in Argentinien Geborene. Ein Teil der Familie Glaser hatte dort überlebt, und sie schickten uns ein Affidavit.

Ich ging nicht gern aus Wien weg. Ich war 19 Jahre alt, hatte in Wien meine Freunde und den Sport. Aber dass ich rebelliert hätte oder dass ich allein dageblieben wäre, das wäre mir nicht eingefallen. Gut, die Aussicht, ein russischer Soldat zu werden, gefiel mir auch nicht.

Aber ich wäre lieber nach Amerika gefahren, die Amerikaner waren mir immer sympathisch. In der Schule hatte ich Englisch gelernt und mir im Kino amerikanische Filme angesehen - aber meine Eltern wollten nicht nach Amerika. Einige Monate vor unserer erneuten Flucht nahm ich Spanisch-Unterricht.

Zuerst fuhren wir mit dem Zug nach Genua und von Genua mit dem Schiff nach Argentinien. Es war eine schöne Reise, und es war ein Abenteuer für mich. Ich hatte nie Tagebücher geschrieben, aber von dieser Reise besitze ich ein Tagebuch. Unsere Verwandten holten uns vom Hafen in Buenos Aires ab. Sie hatten für uns fürs erste ein Zimmer in einer Pension gemietet.

Wir kamen nicht als Reiche nach Argentinien, aber wir waren auch nicht arm. Zuerst waren wir zu dritt, Tante Ilona kam erst ein paar Monate später, weil ihre Papiere nicht rechtzeitig fertig geworden waren. Meine Eltern hatten große Angst vor dem Koreakrieg. Das war keine Flucht von heute auf morgen, aber als unsere Papiere fertig waren, kauften sie sofort die Schiffskarten.

Am nächsten Tag erkundigte ich mich, ob es einen jüdischen Sportklub gäbe und trat diesem sofort bei. Ich spielte weiter Wasserball, schwamm und die Mitglieder des Sportklubs wurden meine Bekannten; Argentinier, einige Söhne von Emigranten und einige, die vor dem Holocaust eingewandert waren.

Ich habe begonnen zu arbeiten, denn an Schule war nicht zu denken. Ich hätte alles nostrifizieren müssen. In Wien hatte ich die Matura an der Handelsakademie gemacht, aber ich hätte in Argentinien wahrscheinlich monatelang lernen und Prüfungen ablegen müssen; das wollte ich nicht. Mein Vater beteiligte sich dann an einer Textildruckerei, da arbeitete ich mit.

Mein Vater hatte zwei Kompagnons, und nach einem Jahr hatte er keinen Kompagnon und auch fast kein Geld mehr. Das geht in Argentinien schnell. Dann eröffneten meine Eltern eine Strickerei, die sich gut entwickelte. Wir arbeiteten alle in der Strickerei, auch meine Frau, nachdem wir geheiratet hatten.

In das Haus, in dem wir gewohnt haben, kamen neue Emigranten: Tschechen, Österreicher und eine ungarische Familie mit einer Tochter. Die Tochter ging mit meiner zukünftigen Frau zusammen in die Schule. So haben wir uns kennen gelernt. Wir waren ein Jahr verlobt und dann hatten wir eine jüdische Hochzeit in der großen Synagoge in Buenos Aires.

Der Mädchenname meiner Frau ist Ida Lubowicz. Sie wurde am 27. Juli 1937 in Luzk [heute Ukraine], damals war das Polen, geboren. Bis Kriegsende lebte sie mit ihren Eltern versteckt in Polen. Dann emigrierten sie nach Italien, und 1951 wanderten sie nach Argentinien aus.

Die Muttersprache meiner Frau ist Jiddisch. Meine Frau kann kein Wort Polnisch, sie sprachen nur Jiddisch zu Hause. Die ersten Jahre ging sie in Italien in die Schule. Sie maturierte in Argentinien, dann arbeitete sie mit mir und meinen Eltern in der Strickerei.

Meine Frau hat zwei Brüder: ein Bruder ist älter als sie, der andere ist nach dem Krieg geboren. Meine Schwiegereltern und ihre Kinder waren die einzigen Überlebenden einer ehemals riesengroßen Familie. Meine Frau fuhr einmal nach dem Krieg mit ihrer Mutter nach Polen, sie wollten nach Verwandten suchen. Sie fanden niemanden; alle waren ermordet worden, aber sie wurde, ein damals 16 jähriges Mädchen, auf der Straße als Saujüdin beschimpft.

Wir bekamen zwei Kinder. Unser Sohn Roberto Bischitz wurde am 5. November 1959 in Buenos Aires geboren, und unsere Tochter Deborah Weicman, geborene Bischitz, am 19. April 1965. Unsere Kinder wurden selbstverständlich jüdisch erzogen.

Beide maturierten in Buenos Aires in der Pestalozzi Schule. Das war eine zweisprachige Privatschule für Deutsch und Spanisch - da lernten sicher 50 bis 60 Prozent jüdische Kinder. Unsere Kinder gingen in Jugendgruppen, die sich einmal in der Woche in der Synagoge trafen und zu den Feiertagen gingen wir immer gemeinsam in die Synagoge. Mein Sohn bekam mit dreizehn Jahren natürlich die Bar Mitzwa 17.

Mein Schwiegervater und ich haben uns sehr gut verstanden. Ich habe ihn 15 Jahre vor seinem Tod als kräftigen und sehr gescheiten Geschäftsmann kennen gelernt. Ich liebte meine Schwiegereltern und sie liebten mich - wir hatten ein schönes Familienleben. Meine Schwiegermutter zündete jeden Freitag Kerzen an und ging in die Synagoge.

Innerhalb von zwei Jahren starben meine Eltern und meine Schwiegereltern. Mein Vater starb 1971, meine Mutter 1973. Mein Schwiegervater hatte einen Schlaganfall und war sieben Jahre gelähmt, bevor er starb, meine Schwiegermutter starb an Krebs.

Die wirtschaftliche Lage in Argentinien wurde immer schlimmer. 1984 übersiedelten wir nach Wien. Ich hatte Argentinien nie gern, ich gewöhnte mich nie an die südamerikanische Mentalität: an Unpünktlichkeit, an die Zahlungsmoral der Leute, an das Klima; ich dachte immer anders als die Argentinier.

Wahrscheinlich blieb ich immer ein Europäer. Meine Frau war zu dieser Zeit eine begeisterte Argentinierin. Sie hatte ihre zwei Brüder und deren Familien in Buenos Aires. Heute kann man in Argentinien überhaupt nicht mehr leben, es ist furchtbar: Arbeitslosigkeit, Armut und alle drei Stunden passiert ein Mord.

Wir gingen also nach Wien und wohnten zuerst im 7. Bezirk. In Wien habe ich als Handelsvertreter gearbeitet, ich hatte Textilvertretungen aus Portugal.

Mein Sohn war 25 Jahre alt und hatte in Argentinien eine argentinische Christin geheiratet. Auch die Schwiegertochter kam mit nach Wien. Sie arbeitete und mein Sohn besuchte ein paar Jahre die Technische Universität. Er wollte Ingenieur werden, unterbrach aber dann das Studium. Er ist selbständig und unterrichtet im Fach Rhetorik.

Wir haben eine Enkeltochter, Nastassia, das ist die Tochter meines Sohnes. Sie lebt mit ihrer Mutter in Buenos Aires. Die Ehe ging auseinander, und meine Schwiegertochter ging mit dem Kind nach Argentinien zurück. Mein Sohn blieb in Wien und fliegt so oft er kann nach Argentinien. Jetzt, wo Nastassia größer ist, kommt sie einmal im Jahr nach Wien und bleibt ein, zwei Monate hier.

Meiner Tochter gefiel es in Österreich nicht. Sie arbeitete einige Zeit als Verkäuferin beim Schöps [Textilkette] am Stephansplatz. Aber sie ist ein richtiges Holocaust-Opfer der zweiten Generation; sie will mit Deutschen und mit Österreichern nichts zu tun haben. Sie hat uns gesagt: Ich bin Argentinierin und habe in Österreich nichts verloren. Dann fuhr sie zurück. Sie arbeitete in Buenos Aires als dreisprachige Sekretärin, aber im Moment ist sie leider arbeitslos.

Sie ist eine ganz besonders gute Jüdin, aber sie ist nicht religiös. Genauso wie für mich, wäre es für sie nie in Frage gekommen, keinen Juden zu heiraten. Sie hat natürlich in der Synagoge geheiratet, das war für sie selbstverständlich. Mein Sohn ist diesbezüglich anders.

Wir waren einige Male in Israel. Ich bin kein Zionist, ich war nie Zionist, aber es gefiel mir. Ich bin uneingeschränkt pro-israelisch, aber meine Frau und ich haben nie daran gedacht, in Israel zu leben. Es hat uns gut gefallen, aber wir waren Touristen, und wir haben gewusst, dass wir Touristen sind.

Ich war sehr oft geschäftlich in Ungarn, jahrelang war ich einmal die Woche in Budapest. Wenn ich die alten Ungarn sehe, dann sehe ich sie vor mir in der Pfeilkreuzler Uniform. Ich habe die Ungarn nicht gern, Budapest ist eine schöne Stadt, aber Gott behüte dort leben zu müssen!

Bis zu Haider 18 hatte ich die Vergangenheit verdrängt, das ist mir gelungen, bewusst oder unbewusst. Ich schau mir keine KZ Filme an, ich lese keine Bücher über KZs. Meine Frau schaut sich immer solche Filme an. Nach dem Haider hat sich dann doch irgendwie die Vergangenheit aufgetan.

Ich habe an den Österreich-Anschluss und an die Verfolgung in Österreich keine Erinnerung. Ich hasse nur die Ungarn, für mich sind die Nazis die Ungarn. Ich bin gern Österreicher, man kann fast sagen ich liebe Wien. Ich bin gern hier, ich habe nicht das Problem, das die meisten Leute, auch meine Frau, haben, wenn sie alte Menschen sehen.

Wenn die zum Beispiel schöne Juwelen tragen, fragt sie sich immer: Von welchem toten Juden stammen die? Das würde mir in Ungarn so gehen. Ich habe in der Schule immer nur in Ungarn gerauft, weil sie mich Saujud nannten; das war nicht in Wien. Ein einziges Mal habe ich mich gerächt. Am ersten Tag nach der Befreiung habe ich den Burschen verprügelt, der mich in der Schule immer gequält hatte. Ich habe ihn gesucht, gefunden, und verprügelt.

Ich hatte später in meinem Geschäftsleben in Wien ein paar jüdische Kunden. Alle anderen Kunden wussten, dass ich Jude bin, aber ich hatte nie ein Problem. Ich habe nie ein Geheimnis daraus gemacht. Außerdem schaue ich ja wahrscheinlich jüdisch aus und die Österreicher - ich kenne meine Landsleute - die riechen irgendwie den Juden.

Ich weiß, dass sie Antisemiten sind. Ich habe es nur nie an meiner Person gespürt. Ich weiß, dass sie gemordet haben, ich weiß, dass verhältnismäßig viel mehr Österreicher in der SS waren, als Deutsche. Ich weiß alles genau. Ich weiß auch ganz genau, dass die Ungarn ärgere Antisemiten sind und die Polen und die Ukrainer noch ärgere. Sicher ist mir das bewusst, dass sie es sind: unbewusst und versteckt und heutzutage nicht mehr so versteckt, das weiß ich auch.

Ich habe mich nach meiner Rückkehr nach Wien wirklich gut gefühlt, zu Hause gefühlt. Über den Waldheim 19 hatte ich mich aber nicht sehr aufgeregt. Ich meine: Wenn dieser Mann zweimal hintereinander Generalsekretär der UNO war, dann hatten sie ihn ja wirklich auf Herz und Nieren geprüft. Ich bin auch heute noch überzeugt davon, dass er eigentlich kein Nazi war, er ist nur ein Lügner und ein Opportunist. Der hat die Vergangenheit auf seine Art bewältigt, in dem er sie verdrängt hat.

Mit dem Haider habe ich meine Probleme. Ich bin überzeugt davon, dass er nie Bundeskanzler wird, nur war ich auch überzeugt davon, dass seine Partei, die FPÖ nie mehr als zehn Prozent der Wählerstimmen kriegen würde und dann bekam sie 25 Prozent! Aber jetzt glaube ich, es ist mit Haider vorbei.

Den Antisemitismus gab es immer und wird es immer geben. Ich weiß nicht, wer das gesagt hat: Antisemitismus ist kein Problem der Juden, es ist ein Problem der Antisemiten. Nur müssen wir damit leben.

Wir wohnen in einem Haus der Jüdischen Gemeinde. Seitdem wir hier wohnen, ist unser jüdisches Leben aktiver. Wir bekommen die Gemeindezeitung und gehen zu Veranstaltungen. Wir gehen auch einmal im Monat zum Treffen der alten Hakoaner im Café Schottenring. Ich sage immer:

Wer in Wien mit diesen wenigen Juden ein jüdisches Leben leben will, der kann jeden Tag irgendeine Veranstaltung haben - das ist kein Problem. Wir leben kein religiöses jüdisches Leben, sondern ein gesellschaftlich jüdisches Leben. Zu den hohen Feiertagen gehen wir aber selbstverständlich in die Synagoge.

Meine Frau hat sich eigentlich nie richtig in Wien eingelebt. Wir haben unser Enkelkind in Argentinien, und sie ist sehr eng verbunden mit ihrem jüngeren Bruder in Argentinien. Es tut ihr natürlich weh, dass sie die Familie in Argentinien so selten sieht.

Aber seitdem wir hier in dem Haus sozusagen unser eigenes 'Ghetto' gegründet haben, geht es ihr besser. Es hat aber vielleicht auch damit zu tun, dass sie sich in Argentinien nicht mehr zu Hause fühlen kann. Und aus Wien weggehen, dafür sind wir schon zu alt.

  • Glossar:

1 ESRA: 1994 gegründet, bemüht sich das psychosoziale Zentrum ESRA um die medizinische, therapeutische und sozialarbeiterische Versorgung von Opfern der Shoah und deren Angehörigen sowie um die Beratung und Betreuung von in Wien lebenden Juden; weiters bietet ESRA Integrationshilfen für jüdische Zuwanderer.

2 k.u.k. steht für 'kaiserlich und königlich' und ist die allgemein übliche Bezeichnung für staatliche Einrichtungen der österreichisch- ungarischen Monarchie, z.B.: k.u.k. Armee; k.u.k. Zoll; k.u.k. Hoflieferant...

3 Theresienstadt [Terezin] : Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts gegründete Garnisonsstadt in der heutigen Tschechischen Republik, die während der Zeit des Nationalsozialismus zum Ghetto umfunktioniert wurde. In Theresienstadt waren 140.000 Juden interniert, die meisten aus dem Protektorat Böhmen und Mähren, aber auch aus Mittel- und Westeuropa. Nur etwa 19,000 der Menschen, die in Theresienstadt waren, überlebten.

4 Jom Kippur: der jüdische Versöhnungstag, der wichtigste Festtag im Judentum. Im Mittelpunkt stehen Reue und Versöhnung. Essen, Trinken, Baden, Körperpflege, das Tragen von Leder und sexuelle Beziehungen sind an diesem Tag verboten.

5 Koscher [hebr.: rein, tauglich]: den jüdischen Speisegesetzen entsprechend.

6 Schabbat [hebr.: Ruhepause]: der siebente Wochentag, der von Gott geheiligt ist, erinnert an das Ruhen Gottes am siebenten Tag der Schöpfungswoche. Am Schabbat ist jegliche Arbeit verboten. Er soll dem Gottesfürchtigen dazu dienen, Zeit mit Gott zu verbringen. Der Schabbat beginnt am Freitagabend und endet am Samstagabend.

7 Seder [hebr.: Ordnung]: wird als Kurzbezeichnung für den Sederabend verwendet. Der Sederabend ist der Auftakt des Pessach-Festes. An ihm wird im Kreis der Familie (oder der Gemeinde) des Auszugs aus Ägypten gedacht.

8 Hagadah od.Haggadah od. Haggada [hebr: 'Verkündung/Erzählung']:Büchlein, das am Sederabend beim Festmahl mit der Familie gemeinsam gelesen und gesungen wird. Das Buch beschreibt das Exil in Ägypten und den Auszug in die Freiheit.

9 Anschluss: Der Anschluss Österreichs an das Deutsche Reich. Nach dem Rücktritt von Bundeskanzler Schuschnigg am 11. März 1938 besetzten in ganz Österreich binnen kurzem Nationalsozialisten alle wichtigen Ämter. Am 12. März marschierten deutsche Truppen in Österreich ein. Mit dem am 13. März 1938 verlautbarten 'Verfassungsgesetz über die Wiedervereinigung Österreichs mit dem Deutschen Reich' war der 'Anschluss' de facto vollzogen.

10 Judengesetze: Bezeichnung für Gesetze, deren Ziel die Benachteiligung von Juden ist. Herausragende Bedeutung nehmen dabei die im Dritten Reich erlassenen Nürnberger Gesetze ein.

11 Pfeilkreuzler: 1937 aus der von Ferenc Szalási gegründeten 'Partei des nationalen Willens' hervorgegangene faschistische Bewegung. Nach dem Versuch der Regierung unter Miklós Horthy, einen Separatfrieden mit den Alliierten zu schließen, übernahmen die Pfeilkreuzler im Oktober 1944 die Macht in Ungarn.

Mit ihrer Hilfe wurde von den Deutschen im November 1944 die zweite Deportationswelle durchgeführt. In Terroraktionen ermordeten Pfeilkreuzler bis zur Befreiung durch die sowjetische Armee im Januar 1945 noch mehrere tausend Budapester Juden.

12 Wallenberg, Raoul [1912-?]: 1944 schickte die schwedische Regierung Wallenberg nach Budapest, um Maßnahmen zur Rettung der dortigen Juden anzustreben. Wallenberg verteilte Schutzpässe und organisierte die Unterbringung seiner Schützlinge in über 30 Schutzhäusern.

Die schwedischen Schutzhäuser bildeten zusammen u. a. mit denen Spaniens ein internationales Ghetto, in dem sich etwa 30.000 Menschen befanden. Zusammen mit anderen Diplomaten gelang es Wallenberg, diese Juden vor dem sicheren Tod zu bewahren. Wallenberg wurde 1945 von den Sowjets gefangengenommen und nach Moskau verschleppt. Dort verliert sich seine Spur. Laut Angaben der Sowjetunion ist Wallenberg 1947 in einem Moskauer Gefängnis gestorben.

13 Yad Vashem: Nationale Gedenkstätte in Jerusalem zur Erinnerung an die Verfolgung und Ermordung von Juden durch Nationalsozialisten.

14 Allee der Gerechten: Allee in der Holocaust-Gedenkstätte Yad Vashem, an der Bäume gepflanzt wurden, die an jene nicht-jüdischen Menschen erinnern soll, die Juden während des Naziregimes beigestanden haben.

15 Hakoah [hebr.: Kraft]: 1909 in Wien gegründeter jüdischer Sportverein. Bekannt wurde vor allem die Fußballmannschaft [1925 österreichischer Meister]; der Verein brachte auch Ringer, Schwimmer und Wasserballer hervor, die internationale und olympische Titel errangen. Nach dem Anschluss Österreichs 1938 an das Deutsche Reich wurden die Spielstätten beschlagnahmt und der Verein 1941 verboten.

16 Koreakrieg: Koreakrieg [1950 - 1953]: Krieg zwischen Demokratischen Volksrepublik Korea [Nordkorea] und ihren chinesischen Verbündeten auf der einen Seite und der Republik Korea [Südkorea], die von UNO-Truppen [vor allem US-amerikanischen] unterstützt wurde, auf der anderen Seite.

Er brach am 25. Juni aus, und beide Parteien eroberten wechselseitig beinahe die gesamte koreanische Halbinsel. Letzten Endes führte er wieder zu der Ausgangsposition zurück und zementierte die Teilung Koreas ein. Er endete am 27. Juli 1953 mit der Unterzeichnung eines Waffenstillstandsabkommens, das bis heute in Kraft ist.

17 Bar Mitzwa: [od. Bar Mizwa; aramäisch: Sohn des Gebots], ist die Bezeichnung einerseits für den religionsmündigen jüdischen Jugendlichen, andererseits für den Tag, an dem er diese Religionsmündigkeit erwirbt, und die oft damit verbundene Feier. Bei diesem Ritus wird der Junge in die Gemeinde aufgenommen.

18 Haider, Jörg [geb.1950]: österreichischer Politiker der BZÖ, einer Abspaltung der rechtsextremen FPÖ. Ab 1979 war er Abgeordneter der FPÖ im Nationalrat. 1986 Parteivorsitzender. 1989 - 1991 sowie 2004 bis heute Landeshauptmann von Kärnten.

Haider hat wiederholt fremdenfeindliche, rassistische, antisemitische und das NS-Regime verharmlosende Aussagen getätigt. Im Jahr 2000 war Haider an der Bildung einer Koalitionsregierung zwischen ÖVP und FPÖ maßgeblich beteiligt, was international zu Protesten bis hin zu diplomatischen Sanktionen durch die EU führte.

19 Waldheim, Kurt [geb. 1918]: österreichischer christlich-demokratischer Politiker. 1968 - 1970 Außenminister; 1964 - 1968 und 1970 - 1971 war er Botschafter Österreichs bei den Vereinten Nationen. Als Waldheim-Affäre wird die Aufdeckung der NS-Vergangenheit Waldheims im Zuge des Präsidentschaftswahlkampfes 1986 bezeichnet.

Waldheim konnte die Mitgliedschaft in der SA sowie im NS-Studentenbund nachgewiesen werden. Des Weiteren hat er über seinen Dienst in der Wehrmacht im Zweiten Weltkrieg gelogen. Andere Unterstellungen [Beteiligung an Kriegsverbrechen] erwiesen sich jedoch als haltlos.

Jindřich Lion

Jindřich Lion

Česká republika

Historie mé rodiny
Moje dětství
Během války
Palestina
Návrat do Prahy
Moje práce redaktora
Návrat do Vídně

Historie mé rodiny

O svých praprarodičích vůbec nic nevím, ty jsem nepoznal.
Můj otec pocházel z malé dědiny, z českojazyčné oblasti poblíž Prahy. Jeho matku jsem ještě poznal. Přestěhovala se do Prahy. Dědeček zemřel, než jsem se narodil, a babička pak žila v Praze do mého čtvrtého, pátého roku. Pamatuju si, že jsme ji každou neděli museli navštěvovat. Pro mě to byl horor. Měla moc hezký byt a musela být zámožná. Byla to taková dáma, ale nerozuměla malým dětem. Musel jsem tam v klidu sedět, moji rodiče u ni trávili půlhodinu, hodinu. Předtím mi řekli: „Nemluv, nic neříkej, odpovídej jen na otázky, až budeš otázán“, jenže mě se nikdy na nic neptala, protože jsem ji nezajímal. To byl pro mě horor. Bydlela nedaleko a vzpomínám si, že když na konci 20. let zemřela, šel jsem náhodou kolem, když z domu vynášeli rakev. Bylo mi tehdy pět. Je pohřbena po židovsku, leží na novém židovském hřbitově v Praze, vedle dědečka.

Moji prarodiče z matčiny strany bydleli v malé vesnici u Žatce. Žatec leží v dnešní České republice, jsou tam ohromná chmelová pole. Ze chmelu se vaří pivo. Moji prarodiče bydleli v Mašťově u Podbořan, který leží v německojazyčném pohraničí. Mašťov je docela maličká obec. Můj dědeček se jmenoval Robitschek. Prarodiče z matčiny strany jsem nepoznal. Vím ale, že dědeček měl malý obchod s látkami a takovými věcmi. Jednou jsem tam s rodiči byl. Měli sedm děti, tři syny a čtyři dcery. Hodně jich pak žilo v Praze. Prarodiče z matčiny strany jsou pohřbeni v Mašťově, tam je také židovský hřbitov. Už dlouho tam žádní Židé nežijí. Hřbitov je celý zarostlý. Jinak sice dobře zachovalý, ale nápisy na náhrobcích už se nedají číst, protože je to tam tak zarostlé. Byl jsem tam s manželkou, lezli jsme mezi stromy a keři, dokonce jsem tam ztratil brýle, ale hrob jsme nenašli.

Moje dětství

Má matka, Elizabeth Lion, rozená Robitschek se narodila 10. 1. 1885  v Mašťově. Provdala se do Prahy. Jedna z jejích sester si vzala doktora také z pohraničí a přestěhovala se do Vídně, zatímco všechny ostatní děti žily v Praze. Jeden byl zubař, jiný měl dílnu, kde vyráběl rukavice. To byli manželé sester mé matky, dva bratři žili ve Vídni. Byli jsme taková typická pražská židovská rodina.

Všecky jsem je znal a všichni měli, až na jednu výjimku, dvě děti. Všichni jsme si velice dobře rozuměli. Jeden strýc byl hodně zbožný, byl v představenstvu Staronové synagogy v Praze. Fischl se jmenoval, Karl Fischl. Byl nejstarší, takže celá rodina ho v podstatě uznávala jako svoji hlavu. Jeho manželka byla pro mě jako druhá matka, tu jsem měl strašně rád. U svého zbožného strýčka jsem měl druhý domov, často jsem u nich býval. Žili po židovsku. O pesachu pořádali vždycky rodinný seder, tam nás bývalo možná 30 lidí, s dětmi. Všichni jsme tam byli. Vzpomínám si, že se musely otevřít dveře mezi dvěma místnostmi, aby se mohl pronést stůl. My děti jsme všechny seděly na konci stolu. Bydleli jsme v Pařížské ulici, bylo to přímo naproti Staronové synagoze. Z okna jsme se dívali dolů na Staronovou synagogu. Všichni ostatní členové rodiny ale zbožní vůbec nebyli.

Můj otec se jmenoval Arthur Lion a narodil se 18. 4. 1883 blízko Prahy. V synagoze asi nikdy nebyl. Moje matka, tak jako většina pražských Židů. chodila do synagogy o takzvaných vysokých svátcích, t.j. dvakrát do roka. Díky vlivu toho strýčka jsem ale chodil do židovské obecné školy s češtinou coby vyučovacím jazykem. Od ostatních škol se lišila jen tím, že se tam zachovávaly židovské svátky. Židovská střední škola ale v Praze nebyla. Měl jsem bratra, který byl o 13 let starší, dělila nás světová válka. Můj otec narukoval, byl důstojníkem rakouské armády. Směl si dokonce vzít s sebou svého psa, boxera. Rodina z otcovy strany byla spíše česky orientovaná. Z matčiny strany byla rodina také německy orientovaná. A česky orientovaní byli čtyři otcovi bratranci, kteří během světové války narukovali do českých legií. Byli rakouskými vojáky a přeběhli ke spojencům. Byla tam založená česká legie, bojovali za svobodu Československa. Ti čtyři bratranci byli ve francouzské armádě jako legionáři v Rusku, Francii a Itálii. Na ně jsem byl velmi hrdý, protože za první republiky byli legionáři velice vážení. Pro Československo vybojovali svobodu a o svátcích vždycky chodili v uniformách, taky do synagogy v těch uniformách přišli. Jejich děti byly všechny vychovávány česky.

U nás doma se mluvilo německy a česky. Matka s námi mluvila německy, otec česky a s bratrem jsme mluvili jen česky. Měli jsme měšťanský třípokojový byt. V Praze byla úroveň bydlení vyšší než v Rakousku. Měli jsme ve Vídni rodinu, dva bratry z matčiny strany, Maxe a Ernsta Robitschekovy. Jako mladí odešli do hlavního města říše Vídně, aby se naučili řemeslu a založili rodinu. A tam jsem za nimi občas v létě jezdil, abych se dobře naučil německy a bydlel jsem u nich. Ve Vídni byly v měšťanských domech byty, kde byl záchod pro celé patro venku na chodbě. Dokonce i voda se musela donášet z chodby. To v Praze v takových domech nebývalo. Společný přívod vody na chodbě v Praze lidé neznali.

Každé léto jsem jezdil s rodiči na dovolenou. Bývali jsme v Rakousku, ale také v Německu. Poblíž německých hranic bylo Bad Schandau. Tam jsme byli na letních prázdninách. Jezdil jsem taky často na dětské tábory, protože otec měl dovolenou jen jeden měsíc. Byl jsem tedy měsíc s rodiči a měsíc na táboře.

Můj bratr František byl o 13 let starší než já. Narodil se v Praze 5. 1. 1909. Prožil s rodiči celou válku. Já se narodil teprve po válce. Přes věkový rozdíl se o mě velice rád staral a jelikož byl můj otec už dost starý, opravdu mi ho nahrazoval. Když jsem měl problém, šel jsem za ním. Měl pro mě hodně porozumění. Rodiče byli už moc staří, aby chápali malé dítě. On mi rozuměl a tak jsem chodil se svými problémy často za ním,  s ním jsem mluvil vždycky první. Otec byl společenský člověk, rád měl kolem sebe lidi. Na večeři jsme měli často hosty, bydlela u nás kuchařka, měla malý pokojík vedle kuchyně. Byty byly všechny už tak zařízeny, že kuchyně byly s malou místností pro kuchařku. Doma jsme měli vždycky kuchařku. Některé byly křesťanky. Vzpomínám si, že jedna byla v Armádě spásy, někdy mě tam vzala s sebou. Armáda spásy měla v Praze takový dům, kde byly v neděli odpoledne všemožné programy pro děti.

Neměl jsem zvláštní židovskou výchovu. Otec nikdy neskrýval, že je Žid, naopak, byl členem B`nai B`rith a podporoval všechny možné židovské spolky. Díky vlivu svého ortodoxního strýčka jsem měl bar micva. Během slavnosti byl můj otec vyvolaný. Vůbec nic neznal, nikdy nebyl v synagoze. Řekli mu dopředu, že bude muset přednést požehnání. Napsal si všechno v latince na kousek papíru a vložil papír do modlitební knihy. Jenže když ho vyvolali a on tu modlitební knihu otevřel, byl papír pryč. Začal se potit a zoufale hledat ten papírek. Kantor, který stál vedle něj se stříbrným prstem, se ho zeptal, co to pořád hledá, a řekl: „Ukážu vám, kde jsme.“ Otec ale nemohl říct, že to neumí přečíst. A pak ho nějak napadlo, že modlitba začíná slovem „Baruch“ a končí slovem „Amen“. A že ortodoxní Židé se modlí tak rychle, že jim není rozumět. Takže začal: „Báááruch mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Amen.“ Nikdo si nevšiml, že to neumí, jenom já a začal jsem se strašně smát. Rabin mi pohrozil, že mě vyhodí ze synagogy, jestli se ještě jednou zasměju. Takže u nás se braly náboženské věci hodně, hodně liberálně. A jako většina pražských Židů mívali jsme i my o Vánocích dokonce stromeček. V židovské škole měla většina žáků doma vánoční stromek. To tak bylo, Pražáci nejsou tolik zbožní, také křesťané jsou tam míň zbožní. Vánoční svátky, to je lidová slavnost. Ve škole se o nich mluví už měsíc dopředu. Pak se slaví v různých spolcích a konají se dětské vánoční besídky. Mezi dětmi se o ničem jiném nemluví. A vánoční trhy na Staroměstském náměstí jsou nádherné.
Můj otec byl také toho názoru, že je to lidový svátek a když se všechny děti těší na besídku, mělo by se na ni těšit i moje dítě. Ve škole, ne v židovské škole, ale když jsem byl na gymnáziu, stál vánoční stromek v každé třídě. My žáci jsme zapalovali svíčky a učitel řekl, že nám nebude kazit vánoční náladu. Takže jsme se neučili.

Antisemitismus jsem v Praze nezaznamenal. Všude je antisemitismus a antisemité, ale v Praze málo a já jsem ho nezaznamenal. Kolem dokola byly fašistické nebo fašizující státy: Německo, Rakousko, Maďarsko, Polsko, Rumunsko. Uprostřed toho bylo demokratické Československo. To díky Masarykovu vlivu, Čechoslováci ho měli moc rádi, byl pro lidi skoro jako bůh. Bojoval proti antisemitismu a co řekl, bylo pro většinu lidí svaté. V Československu byl antisemitismus spíš nacionálně založený. Židé žili v ghettu. To ghetto se zdmi kolem vlastně dostali od českých knížat jako ochranu. Lidé tam žili ve strašných podmínkách, protože ghetto bylo malé, a tak se tam mačkali, dvě rodiny v jedné místnosti. Křídou byl ten pokoj uprostřed rozdělený. A pak se stal císařem Josef II., který chtěl Židy z Čech germanizovat. Řekl, že všichni Židé, kteří se chtějí vystěhovat z ghetta a vyučit se nějakému normálnímu řemeslu, to můžou udělat, pokud splní následující podmínky: Musí přijmout nějaké německé jméno, proto má většina Židů tam německá jména. Svoje děti musí posílat do německých škol mimo ghetto, vést své obchodní knihy v němčině, atd., atd. Nato poslali pražští Židé do Vídně k císaři deputaci, aby ho požádali, aby ty podmínky zrušil. On na nich ale trval. Kvůli těm špatným podmínkám v ghettu se Židé nakonec podvolili. Byli ale i takoví, kteří zůstali. Protože děti musely do německých škol,  připojily se k německému kulturnímu okruhu. To se později Židům hodně zazlívalo, protože když přišli do Německa nacisti, mluvili Židé v Praze pořád ještě německy. Hodně z nich, ne všichni, ale tak polovina, a částečně pořád ještě posílali děti do německých škol. To jim Češi hodně zazlívali. Nevěděli totiž, proč se hlásí k němectví. Vzpomínám si, že při vysokých svátcích před synagogou – v Praze bylo jen na Starém Městě osm synagog – stáli lidi venku a mluvili spolu německy. Z židovských mládežnických organizací, byl jsem tam taky, pak vždycky šli dva a když slyšeli němčinu, řekli lidem: „Prosím vás, přestaňte a nevyvolávejte tu antisemitismus. Jděte někam jinam, ale nestůjte před synagogou a nemluvte německy!“ Rabíni kázali ve spoustě synagog německy. A to pak musela židovská obec zakázat a muselo se kázat česky. Jenže hodně rabínů česky neumělo. Další skupinou byli sionističtí Židé, kteří se stavěli tak napůl česky a napůl německy. Byli ale národnostně židovští a asimilovaní.
V Praze a velkých městech to tak bylo. Na malých městech a na venkově byli Židé asimilovaní česky. Chodili jsme v Praze často do „Německého domu“, to byla velká restaurace se zahradou a tam, když přišli Němci, jako první vyvěsili tabule, na kterých stálo „Židé nežádoucí“. Šel jsem jednou s tatínkem okolo, když odtud vyšel jeden jeho známý, Žid. Otec řekl: „Jak to, že jsi mohl dovnitř? Stojí tam, že Židé jsou nežádoucí.“ On řekl: „ No jo, je to nežádoucí, ale ne zakázané.“ Mentalita německých Židů bylo něco úplně zvláštního. To se jim hodně zazlívalo.

Během války

Mí rodiče měli hlavně židovské přátele. Kvůli tomu, že matka nepocházela z českého prostředí, se musela zdržovat v prostředí německém, více či méně. Jenže Němci nepřijímali Židy jako sobě rovné. U Čechů to bylo jiné. Tak měli jen židovské přátele. Měl jsem jednoho křesťanského kamaráda, který měl německou matku a německého otce. Němci ho přetáhli do Německého studentstva. Vzpomínám si, že jsem ho potkal v Pařížské ulici, která byla hlavní ulicí někdejšího ghetta. Najednou ho vidím ve studentské SS uniformě. Přešel jsem na druhou stranu ulice, ale on mě viděl a zavolal na mě. Nemohl jsem se mu už vyhnout, přešel za mnou na druhou stranu. Strašně jsem se styděl, že na ulici stojím a bavím se s Němcem, dokonce ještě s esesmanem. On byl Čech, měl českou výchovu, nebyl to žádný nacista. Hrával se mnou v jednom mužstvu fotbal. Po válce nás s manželkou k sobě a své české ženě pozval.
Když přišli Němci, nesměli už Židé chodit do škol. Tak jsem musel ze školy pryč. Bratr mého otce byl v Palestině, sehnal nám certifikát. A řekl nám, že do Palestiny potřebuju nějaké řemeslo. Tak jsem pracoval v jedné továrně jako zámečník, abych se naučil řemeslu. Ale asi jen tři měsíce, potom jsme odjeli. Odcestovali jsme ještě legálně.

Můj otec měl strýce v New Yorku. Tenhle strýc se do New Yorku dostal náhodou. Prastrýc mého otce žil v Americe už dost dlouho. Jednou přijel do Prahy na návštěvu a řekl strýci mého otce: „Tak pojď, doprovodíš mě do Brém na loď.“ Zaplatil mu cestu do Brém a zpátky do Prahy.

Když si otcův strýc v Brémách loď prohlížel, najednou začala vyplouvat. Otcův prastrýc běžel ke kapitánovi a řekl, že má na palubě sedmnáctiletého synovce, který musí zpátky do Prahy. Na to kapitán řekl, že kvůli němu nemůže jet zpátky. Tak se strýc dostal do Ameriky, odkud ho pak prastrýc chtěl poslat zpět do Prahy. V Americe prastrýc řekl, že by si strýc, když už tu jednou je, měl Ameriku trochu prohlédnut. Prastrýc hned poslal do Prahy telegram, že je s ním strýc na lodi a ať si o něj nedělají starosti. To bylo ještě v dobách hlubokého míru, takže se opravdu strachovat nemuseli. Jenže strýc tam zůstal, začal tam chodit do školy, vystudoval a stal se báňským inženýrem. V Americe hodně zbohatl a každý rok jezdil do Prahy. Když strýc mého otce zemřel, odkázal všem dětem, synovcům a neteřím dva tisíce dolarů. Byl to sionista, ale  v Palestině žít nechtěl. Ty dva tisíce dolarů nám zachránily život. Poslal ty peníze do Palestiny, ne do Prahy, a otcův bratr, který tam žil, za ty peníze koupil pomerančovou plantáž. A v ní tam ležely naše peníze. Když přišel Hitler, koupil pro nás strýc certifikáty a my mohli do Palestiny. Otec byl za to velice rád, a tak jsme se všichni dostali ven. Strýcové a tety nebyli žádní chudáci, ale venku neměli žádné peníze. Němci jim už nedovolili koupit si dolary na lodní lístky. Skoro všichni zahynuli, pár bratranců a sestřenic se zachránilo. Ze sedmi sourozenců mé matky bylo 14 nebo 15 dětí, které se už všechny povdávaly a oženily. Byl jsem ze všech bratranců a sestřenic nejmladší, rodinný mazánek.

Palestina

Jeli jsme tam dvakrát. Poprvé krátce potom, co přimašírovali Němci. Tehdy ještě Židům dávali povolení odcestovat do zahraničí. Přijeli jsme na italské hranice a večer měl mít v rádiu Hitler řeč. Znamenalo to, že Itálii vyhlásil válku a hranice budou uzavřené a my nebudeme moci pokračovat dál. Povídalo se, že musíme počkat, co Hitler řekne. Šel jsem do SS kasáren a poslechl si tam Hitlerův projev. V těch SS kasárnách jsem neměl vůbec strach. Nikdo mě tu neznal jako Žida. V Praze jsem měl z větší části kamarády-křesťany, hrál jsem za pražské fotbalové a hokejové družstvo a byl v pražském prostředí úplně asimilovaný. Vyšel jsem z kasáren ven a pověděl rodičům, že musíme jet zpátky, Hitler vyhlásil válku. A otec na to řekl, že ale nemáme na zpáteční cestu žádné peníze.

Opravdu jsme si nevzali žádné další peníze, cestu už jsme měli zaplacenou, dokonce i cestu lodí z Terstu do Haify. Zbytek peněz jsme dali našim příbuzným v Praze. Teď jsme nevěděli, jak se máme dostat zpátky do Prahy. Jednalo se o rakouské dráhy, tedy německé, po tom, co Němci obsadili Rakousko. Tak šel otec za jedním člověkem s hákovým křížem na kabátě. Byl to Němec, žádný Rakušan. Otec mu vysvětlil situaci: „Podívejte se“, řekl, „jsme na cestě do Palestiny. Jsme Židé a musíme zpátky do Prahy, protože vypukla válka. A teď nemáme na zpáteční cestu žádné peníze. Chtěl bych Vás poprosit, cestujeme s dítětem, jestli byste nám nemohl půjčit peníze na cestu do Prahy.“ Ten s hákovým křížem byl Němec, vyndal peněženku a řekl: „Kolik potřebujete?“ Otec řekl: „Pro tři lidi to stojí tolik a tolik. Můžu Vám pouze slíbit, že až zítra ráno přijedu do Prahy, hned Vám ty peníze pošlu.“ Což taky, jakmile jsme byli v Praze, hned udělal. „Pro mě za mě“, řekl nacista a ty peníze otci dal. Bylo ale štěstí, že to byl Němec, protože Rakušan by to tehdy neudělal. To byli teprve náckové. Mohli jsme jet zpátky do Prahy. Tam jsme už neměli žádný byt, všechno bylo pryč a my se nakvartýrovali k tětě, co bydlela naproti Staronové synagoze. Můj ortodoxní strýček byl už po smrti a jeho žena tam pořád žila. Ta tam zůstala, celé příbuzenstvo zůstalo. Všichni zahynuli. Děti skoro všechny odjely, ale staří v Praze zůstali a zahynuli. Třicet lidí z naší rodiny bylo zavražděno. Mysleli si, že to nebude trvat dlouho a po tu dobu to tu nějak vydržíme. Do Palestiny odjelo do konce roku 1939 několik dalších transportů, které byly povolené. Přijeli jsme posledním legálním transportem.

Můj bratr byl se svou ženou už venku. Byla to tehdy už jeho žena, protože si ji vzal v Římě. Bratr vypravoval, že Italové se k Židům chovali velice dobře. Po všech stránkách jim pomáhali. Bratr byl v Praze právníkem. Byl koncipientem v jedné kanceláři, v právní kanceláři. Vzal si křesťanku, která přešla k židovské víře, ale byla to taková formální věc. Udělala to proto, aby měli oba stejné vyznání. V Praze to tak bylo zvykem. V Římě se vzali a pak se vydali na cestu do Šanghaje. Tam přečkalo válku hodně Židů. A zatímco byli na lodi, ale ještě předtím, než loď projela Suezským průplavem, podařilo se mému otci, to už jsme v té době byli v Palestině, bratra a jeho ženu v Suezu z lodě vyzvednout a vzít s sebou do Palestiny. Velká část otcovy rodiny byla už delší čas v Izraeli. Byli to sionisté a měli tam dost vysoké postavení. Znali starostu Tel Avivu, toho, co se jmenoval Rokach, byli to jeho přátelé. Znali se se státními představiteli a sehnali pro mého bratra certifikát. Telegrafovali jsme mu na loď, abychom mu řekli, že má v Suezu vystoupit, že máme pro něj povolení k cestě do Palestiny. Že si má koupit lístek do Tel Avivu. A jeli jsme mu naproti a před hranicemi jsme mu dali ten certifkát. Tak přijeli můj bratr se svou ženou do Tel Avivu. Byl to krejčová a pracovala v nejlepším pražském salóně. Bratr a jeho žena se v Jeruzalémě usadili a ona si tam otevřela krejčovský salon. On byl v české armádě, která během 2. světové války působila v zahraničí.

Když jsme se dostali do Palestiny, bylo mi šestnáct. Bylo to pro mě těžké. Otec mě zapsal v Tel Avivu do zámečnické školy, do školy Maxe Beina. Nevěděl jsem, kdo byl Max Bein. Tam jsem se pak učil zámečníkem a nerozuměl ani slovo. Učitel byl kvůli mně nešťastný. Musel všechno překládat a on sám mluvil jen jidiš, takže byl z toho zoufalý. Jednou mi řekl: „Jedno slovo hebejsky, řekněte JEDNO slovo!“ A já řekl „Šalom“ a on mě vyrazil ze třídy.

V té době byla velká německá aliyah. Přicházely tisíce německých Židů, kteří spolu z velké části mluvili německy. Vyměňovali si také hebrejská slova, chodili si zaplavat do „Jam“, „Jam“ totiž znamená moře. Zdravili se „šalomchen“ a tak hebrejštinu germanizovali.

Pracoval jsem jako zámečník, ale pak přišla v Izraeli mobilizace a já jsem šel k policii. Přestěhovali jsme se do Jeruzaléma, protože tam byl můj bratr a bydleli jsme v arabské čtvrti. Byla to dobrá arabská čtvrť, kde byly moc hezké byty. Měli jsme tam třípokojový byt jako v Praze. Můj otec zemřel v roce 1944 v Jeruzalémě.

Služba u policie nebyla lehká. Měli jsme celonoční služby, hlídali jsme všechny elektrárny, protože Arabové se s Němci přátelíčkovali. Měli jsme strach, že něco vyhodí do povětří, například elektrárnu.

V Jeruzalémě je v zimním období velká zima. Přes den jsem spal a večer jsem chodil do práce. Bylo to strašné. A pak přišla česká mobilizace pro české občany v zahraničí. Můj bratr už v armádě byl a já jsem se také přihlásil. Tehdy mi ještě nebylo osmnáct. Znal jsem židovské děti, které udělali staršími, jenom aby mohly jít do armády bojovat proti Hitlerovi. Já jsem si ale věk nezměnil a poslali mě do Persie. Tam byla skupina českých odborníků. Díky tomu, že jsem se vyučil zámečníkem, jsem byl vyslán jako zámečnický dělník. Tam se stavěly rafinérie. Američani tam tehdy vyvíjeli takzvaný „lehký olej“ pro letadla, takže tam také stavěli rafinérie na ten „lehký olej“. Byli tam odborníci z různých spojeneckých zemí. Byl jsem tam dva roky, ale protože jsem uměl anglicky – v české armádě nebylo moc lidí, co mluvili anglicky – poslali mě do Jeruzaléma. Pracoval jsem na spojeneckém velitelství, vojenském velitelství a tam jsem potkal svou pozdější ženu.

Moje žena Hannah pochází z chudé rodiny a musela také pracovat, aby se rodina uživila. Jeji otec se narodil jako Schmuel Schlesinger v Rusku, matka v Litvě. V Palestině přijal jméno Haramati. Hannah se narodila 30. 4. 1926 v Jeruzalémě. Její rodina byla věřící, zachovávali svátky a otec si při jídle dával na hlavu pokrývku hlavy. Já jsem to ale odmítnul, připadal bych si tak směšně. Bylo to ode mě hloupé, ale byl jsem mladý kluk. Nikdy jsem neviděl, že by si někdo něco dával na hlavu, jen když jedl. Hannin otec mě měl přesto moc rád.

Návrat do Prahy

Na demobilizaci jsem přijel zpátky do Prahy. Můj bratr v Praze už byl. Když jsem se vrátil, působil můj bratr v České tiskové kanceláři. Řekl mi, že jsem byl už jako dítě hodně zvědavý, že se musím stát novinářem. A i pro mě bylo samozřejmě, že se stanu novinářem. Psal jsem už nějaké články o Izraeli pro jedny noviny. Izrael byl tehdy zajímavý, protože tam tehdy začal boj za svobodu Izraele a jeho odpojení od anglického mandátu. O tom podával zprávy celý novinářský svět a já jsem psal do Prahy jako korespondent. Tak jsem vlastně začal psát do novin.

Matka se s námi vrátila do Prahy. Hodně Židů z koncentračních táborů a z emigrace se vrátilo do Prahy. Česká vláda zorganizovala návrat všech československých státních občanů, kteří museli emigrovat. Najali zámořské lodě, které ty lidi dovezly zpátky a zorganizovali také několik vlaků, které přivezly Židy. Odjel jsem z Prahy zase zpět do Jeruzaléma a když jsem se svou ženou do Prahy přijel v roce 1947, dostali jsme přidělený byt, ve kterém předtím bydleli Němci. Německé byty se dávaly Židům nebo vojákům, co se vrátili. Nejdřív jsme bydleli v podnájmu v Jesenské, to je vedlejší ulice Pařížské, naproti synagoze. A pak jsme dostali přidělený byt v Revoluční ulici, zase třípokoják. Musel jsem vždycky bydlet v téhle čtvrti u Staroměstského náměstí. Tady se všechno odehrávalo – vánoční trhy, mikulášský trh, všechny demonstrace, přehlídky, armáda, to všechno bylo vždycky na Staroměstském náměstí. To byl můj domov. V Praze byli taky mí přátelé, spolužáci a spoluhráči z fotbalového klubu. Bylo tam plno přátel. O válečných hrůzách se už nemluvilo. Mladí z naší rodiny přežili, v Londýně byli čtyři bratranci, v Izraeli přežili dva bratranci.

Pražský vrchní rabín žil během války v Jeruzalémě a pak se do Prahy vrátil jako vrchní rabín. Už v Jeruzalémě nám důvěřoval. Řekl mé ženě, že převezme roli jejího otce. O svátcích jsme pak byli vždycky u něj. Byl to pražský Žid. Nábožensky byl dost konzervativní, ale znal pražské Židy. Věděl, že z náboženství ničemu nerozumím, ale měl pochopení. Náboženství jako takové mě nikdy nelákalo, ať už židovské nebo jiné. Viděl jsem faleš, která v náboženství vězí. Pořád se mluví o rovnosti, ale kam se člověk podívá, vidí boje. Rabín zemřel a protože jeho žena ležela také v nemocnici, má žena ji navštívila ona jí řekla: „Tady si vezmi klíč od mého bytu. Můžeš tam jít. Všechno, co chceš, si můžeš vzít, patří ti to, jen peníze z banky ti nedám, protože není dobré dávat mladým lidem hodně peněz. Jste příliš mladí a neumíte si peněz vážit a také to kazí charakter.“
Měli jsme málo peněz, za komunismu člověk moc nevydělával. Moje žena začala hned potom, co přišla do Prahy, také pracovat. Byla v jedné patentní kanceláři, kde vyřizovala anglickou korespondenci. Ostatní mladé ženy v kanceláři byly všechny v jejím věku a ptaly se jí, jestli bude slavit Vánoce. Ne, Vánoce neslaví. „Ale to je přece tak krásný svátek“, řekly ty mladé ženy. Ona řekla: „To ano, ale já nejsem žádná křesťanka a to je přece křesťanský svátek.“ Dívky mínily, že to je svátek pro všechny. A měly samozřejmě vánoční stromek v kanceláři. Také před náš byt přinesly ozdobený vánoční stromek. Manželka přišla domů a tam před dveřmi stál ozdobený vánoční strom.
Dva roky poté už učila. Vyučovala hebrejštinu a angličtinu na Orientálním ústavu na univerzitě. Kdo se chtěl učit hebrejsky, potřeboval z práce potvrzení, že tu řeč potřebuje. Ale dalo se to nějak zařídit. Moje žena také na izraelské ambasádě připravovala děti velvyslanců do školy. Dostala zvláštní povolení, aby mohla na ambasádu chodit. V Československu byly všechny události popisovány z arabského úhlu pohledu. O Izraeli se v Československu nemluvilo. Izraelské velvyslanectví, narozdíl od toho zde, a to ještě dnes, slavilo vždycky všechny svátky. Na všechny jsme byli zvaní, protože manželka tam učila. Mezi hosty ambasády byli určitě lidé, kteří informovali Státní bezpečnost.

Když má žena učila v jazykové škole, pomohla jí moje setřenice, která byla ve straně. Vedoucí oddělení straně oznámil, že má jednu učitelku, Izraelku a nemůže zaručit, že nepracuje pro izraelskou propagandu. Má sestřenice řekla: „Já ji znám a zaručuji, že je OK.“ Díky náhodě vyučovala také jednoho muže, který byl na ministerstvu vnitra a musel se učit ivrit, aby mohl číst dokumenty. Tomu člověku zavolala a on zařídil, že mohla dál učit. Říkal: „Jeď do Izraele, tvá žena by tam měla dělat komunistickou propagandu, to potřebujeme.“ Takový to byl fanatik.

Moje práce redaktora

Hodně jsem pracoval, byl jsem redaktorem, nejdřív v jednom týdeníku, potom v deníku. Týdeník patřil jednomu velkému vydavatelství. Před válkou to byly německé noviny „Prager Tagblatt“. Když přišli Němci, obsadili redakci, protože tam bylo hodně židovských novinářů, ti museli samozřejmě hned pryč. Pak z toho udělali nacistické noviny. Když pak v roce 1948 noviny převzali komunisté, našel jsem na svém stole formulář. Byla to přihláška do komunistické strany. Vzal jsem ji, zmačkal a vyhodil. Naproti mně seděl jeden, který byl komunista, mladý člověk v mém věku a ten řekl: „Kazíš si svou vlastní budoucnost, když tohle děláš.“ A já mu řekl: „Takovou budoucnost nechci. Nejsem žádný komunista, do komunistické strany nevstoupím.“ Nato jsem měl další den zase na stole formulář. Znovu jsem ho vzal a vyhodil do koše. A můj kolega to oznámil vedení vydavatelství. Odpoledne jsem odešel a když jsem se vrátil zpátky do redakce, měl jsem na stole výpověď. Tisíce lidí byly tehdy, když nechtěli podepsat přihlášku do KSČ, vyhozeny z práce.  Předseda vlády viděl, že to má hospodářsky negativní dopad. Proto vydal vyhlášení, že nečlenství v komunistické straně nemá být důvodem k propuštění z práce. Šel jsem s výpovědí, kterou jsem měl na stole, do odborového právního oddělení a řekl: „Podívejte, předseda vlády řekl, že člověk nemusí být členem komunistické strany.“ Tam tehdy ještě seděli nekomunisté. Právní oddělení univerzity bylo v rukou férových lidí. Ti řekli: „Jděte zpátky a na pracovním stole najdete novou smlouvu.“ Šel jsem zpátky a opravdu, na pracovním stole jsem měl novou smlouvu. Zařídili to telefonicky. Pak jsem tam byl ještě dva roky.
Měl jsem malý obrázek Masaryka, to byl jeden ze zakladatelů samostatného československého státu, stál mi na pracovním stole. Napsal jsem článek, ve kterém jsem o Masarykovi psal pozitivně. Jedna čtenářka mi poslala docela malý Masarykův obrázek v rámečku a napsala mi, že ji těší, že je ještě někdo tak statečný, že o Masarykovi píše pozitivně. V roce 1950 začali komunisti proti Masarykovi kampaň. Byl velice oblíbený a byl to skutečně symbol demokracie. Kolega, který vedle mě v kanceláři seděl, řekl, že bych měl ten obrázek dát hned pryč. A já jsem řekl, že mě to ani nenapadne. Pro mě byl Masaryk vždycky vzor demokrata.
Když jsem příštího dne přišel do práce, byl obrázek pryč. Dostal jsem takový vztek, že jsem začal tlouct do stolu a křičet: „Dejte mi ten obrázek okamžitě zpátky!“ Obrázek se zpátky nevrátil a já taky ne. Tehdy byli komunisti už tak etablovaní, že jsem byl podruhé vyhozený a nemohl už zpátky. To bylo v roce 1950.

V roce 1951, když byla moje žena s prvním dítětem v sedmém měsíci, chtěla jet navštívit rodiče. Musela na ministerstvo vnitra a tam jí řekli: „Víte, co vás tam v Izraeli čeká? Všichni novináři na vás budou dotírat a vyptávat se vás. Co jim pak řeknete?“ Manželka odpověděla: „Co bych měla říkat? Můžu mluvit jen o tom, co jsem prožila, to není žádné tajemství.“ Dostala povolení, ale žádné peníze. Všechno museli zaplatit příbuzní. Bylo to pro ni těžké, protože jí zemřel otec. Byl nemocný na srdce a hodně trpěl tím, že moje žena odjela. Tušil, že budeme mít potíže, ale  když říkal, že přijdou Rusové, já se jen smál, zdálo se mi to směšné. Já jsem komunismus nepoznal. Naopak: komunistická strana byla strana, která bojovala proti fašismu. Představoval jsem si, že teď přijde svoboda, kterou jsme nikdy neměli. Československo bylo demokratický stát, skrz naskrz. Komunismus jsem si představoval jako něco mimořádného. Otec mé ženy věděl, o čem mluví. Říkal mé ženě: „Vidím, že ses zamilovala. Když ti to zakážu a ty budeš nešťastná, bude to moje vina. Musím tě nechat jít, ale prosím tě, pokud se něco stane, vrať se.“ Pocházel z Ruska, zažil pogromy a antisemitismus. Tehdy, když jsme se ženou přijeli do Prahy, bylo Československo ještě demokratické. Rusové převzali vládu teprve v roce 1948. Ale manželčin otec vždycky říkal, že jakmile Rusové převezmou moc. a to se chystali udělat, je konec. Pak všechno uzavřou.

Naše děti se narodily za komunismu, Michael v roce 1951 a Thomas v roce 1956. V Praze jsme s dětmi chodili do synagogy, nejen o vysokých svátcích, ale i o těch malých. Byli taky obřezáni. Nežili jsme ale tradičním způsobem a slavili Vánoce. Kvůli své profesi jsem si nemohl dovolit, aby moje žena vychovávala děti židovsky, ale o všech svátcích zapalovala svíčky. Do Izraele jsme mohli s dětmi jet teprve, když jsme v roce 1968 opustili Československo a žili ve Vídni. Jednou jsme taky se známými a našimi dětmi šli ke sv. Jakubovi na půlnoční, to je známý pražský kostel. Jdeme tam s dětmi a najednou je náš syn pryč. Plný kostel, nedalo se tam pohnout. Syn uviděl, že tam bylo něco k jídlu, pustil se nás a šel taky na to jídlo. Snědl hostii, vrátil se zpátky a řekl, že se to rozplývá na jazyku.

Požádal jsem redaktory z novin, kde jsem pracoval, aby, až budou vysoké svátky a my půjdeme s dětmi do synagogy, šli s námi, aby viděli, jak židovská bohoslužba vypadá. Bušek a Kubík vždycky chodili s námi, protože je to zajímalo.

V Československu byly i nekomunistické noviny, které patřily jedné straně, co existovala jen jako doklad světu, že za komunismu jsou i nekomunistické strany. Přišel jsem do téhle redakce a řekl jsem, že jsem byl vyhozený kvůli Masarykovi. Řekli mi, že to je důvod, proč mě u sebe přijmou. Od zítřka k nám  přijďte pracovat. Komunisté tam ale měli vždycky nasazeného jednoho člověka nebo dva jako redaktory, aby věděli, co se tam děje. Věděli jsme, že jsou od nich poslaní a věděli jsme, o čem před nimi nemáme mluvit. Vzpomínám si, že když byl Gottwaldův pohřeb, jel smuteční vůz i kolem naší redakce. Ležel v otevřené rakvi. Nesměli jsme jít k oknu. Okna byla vždycky hlídaná členy strany. Jeden tak hlídal deset redaktorů. Říkalo se jim „desítková hlídka“. V naší místnosti byl jeden takový mladík, který nás hlídal. Když projížděla kolem ta rakev, dal se do hysterického pláče.
Komunisté říkali, že mezi Židem a nežidem není žádný rozdíl. Že teď přijde něco nového. A spousta lidí na to skočila. Stali se komunisty a dostali se tak na vyšší pozici. Ve všech těch zemích časem vzrostl antisemitismus, Židé seděli ve vysokých pozicích a to se jim vyčítalo.
Během Pražského jara, když byli Dubček a jeho lidi odvezení do Moskvy a tam přinucení podepsat ten dokument, tak Kriegl, Žid, nepodepsal. Lidi říkali: „Podívejte, Žid, a on se nebál, Židi teda nejsou zbabělí. Asi 80 % obyvatelstva bylo proti komunistům. Přidali se, protože museli, byli členy strany, měli funkce, jinak by je vyhodili. Aby tomu zabránili a jejich děti mohly studovat, byli v komunistické straně. Tak to bylo ve všech komunistických zemích.

Návrat do Vídně

V roce 1968 jsme utekli do Vídně. Od roku 1950 až do příchodu Rusů v roce 1968 jsem byl redaktorem těch novin. Protože redakce měla strach, že u nich už nebudu moci pracovat, poslali mě do Vídně jako korespondenta, abych tam jezdil. Byl jsem ve Vídni jeden rok oficiálně jako zástupce těch novin. Když komunisti všechno zase dostali do rukou, donutili redakci, aby mě povolala zpátky, ale já jsem se už nevrátil.

Když manželka viděla někoho, kdo měl na řetízku křížek, myslela si, že je to antisemita. A pak se stala její nejlepší kamarádkou jedna taková s křížkem. Když Rusové v roce 1968 přimašírovali, přišla k nám, přinesla nám klíč od svého domku a řekla: „Tady máte klíč od domu, ubytujte se tam, než Rusové odjedou.“ Když Rusové přišli, řekli: „Uděláme tu jen pořádek a pak zase půjdeme.“ Ale nechtěli odejít, až do roku 1989.

Jedna kamarádka nás pozvala na Smetanův festival. To bylo v jednom českém městě. Ta kamarádka byla Židovka, která si vzala křesťana. Nad postelí mu visel kříž, zatímco nad její židovská hvězda, aby tím symbolizovali, že mezi lidmi není žádný rozdíl.

Byl jsem v Praze společně se svým strýcem, pracoval v bance, kterou odkoupila jiná banka, a on tam jel na služební cestu. Šli jsme po ulici a já povídám: „Podívej, tady bydlel můj strýc, tady vlevo a v tomhle domě žila moje babička a tady můj spolužák. Šel jsem do našeho starého bytu, kde jsem se narodil. Tam už samozřejmě žili jiní lidé. Zazvonil jsem a řekl, že jsem v tomhle bytě bydlel a chtěl bych se na něj ještě podívat. Ti lidé byli moc milí, uvařili kafe a povídali jsme si.
Začal jsem zase pracovat jako korespondent u těch někdejších novin. V roce 1989 mě chtěli dokonce udělat šéfredaktorem, protože ten jejich šéfredaktor, který byl kolaborant, musel odstoupit a oni nevěděli, koho za něj vzít. Já jsem to odmítl, protože jsem řekl, že už nemůžu zpátky. „Přijeď vždycky v pondělí do Prahy, v pátek se můžeš zase vrátit do Vídně“, řekli. Já povídám: „Na to jsem už moc starý, abych pořád takhle jezdil sem tam.“ A tak jsem se stal u těch novin zase korespondentem. Ty noviny pak zanikly, dnes už neexistují, ale já dělám korespondenta pro jiné pražské noviny.
Tomi, náš nejstarší syn, je vedoucím laboratoře v dětské nemocnici sv. Anny. Je genetik a onkolog a dostal už nějaké mezinárodní ceny. Michael, ten starší, má doktorát z filologie a psychologie. Pracuje v Národní knihovně.

Ve Vídni se necítím doma. Nežiju rád v nacistickém státě, ale co mám dělat? Tahle lokální politika tady mě nezajímá. Rakouští Židé jsou z ní nešťastní. Někteří už uvažují o tom, že zase odejdou. Já nevím, mě se to vůbec nedotýká. Já se jako Rakušan necítím.

Napsal jsem nějaké knihy, jednu také o Vídeňácích.

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