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Part 3: Under the Jackboot
Leslie Rübner
My Father's Story
My father in the 1930s had extensive business interests in Yugoslavia that had been part of Hungary till the Treaty of Trianon in 1920 (this treaty awarded 2/3 of that country to the neighbouring states). In fact, I was born there, in Subotica (Szabadka).
In 1938, my parents were forced back to Hungary, as enemy aliens. We settled in Budapest. Hungary attacked her neighbours to regain lands lost. In 1942, they gained possession of huge parcels of Yugoslavia. This presented my father with the opportunity to collect money owed to him. So, he travelled to Novi Sad (Uj Vidèk) the largest town in the province of Vojvodina (the Serb name of ex-Hungarian lands). What he saw there shocked him to the core. Soldiers rounded up Jews and Serbs, led them to the banks of the River Danube, lined them up, tied them together and shot them into the River. Thousands died this way on that day.
For weeks, bodies were washed up, down river at Belgrade. My father fled, thinking that a first-class rail ticked would see him safely back to Budapest. However, as luck had it, he shared a compartment with a high-ranking Army officer. When a ticket inspector discovered that my father was Jewish, the officer went into a rage. How is it possible that he, a true Hungarian, an officer of the glorious Army and a gentleman to boot, was sharing a compartment with a stinking, filthy Jew! My father was arrested, was taken to a punishment forced labour unit in the Virgin forests of Bryansk in Russia. The unit’s job was to walk in front of the “glorious” Magyar soldiers, to be blown up should there be land mines. And believe me there were! Out of his unit of maybe 1000 only 5 survived, my father included.
>Read Leslie's article 'The Story of a Slave Labourer' for more information<
My Mother's Story
While he was risking his life to save these “fearless” soldiers in Russia, my mother, my younger brother and myself, back in Budapest, did not have it easy either. The first Jewish law had been enacted by Parliament, as early as 1938, restricting Jewish academic activities (numerous clausus), as well as forcing Jews out of the professions and state employment. The second came out with numerous nullus. The third, in 1941, stated that anyone with even one Jewish grandparent would be classified as a Jew.
The tens of thousands who had queued previously outside churches to be christened, in order to hold onto their jobs, were Jews over night again.
By July 1944, five hundred and sixty thousand (560,000) men, women and children were deported to concentration camps from the provinces, whether they considered themselves Jews or not. This figure does not include those who perished by Hungarian hands in the Labour Camps. In fact, these Jews were counted as Hungarian casualties, believe it or not!
Budapest remained untouched until our turn started in October of that same year. The majority of the Budapest Jews were sent to a central ghetto, while some managed to live in “protected ghettos” in quarters protected by various neutral states.
My Own Story
We were told to report at a disused football stadium from where group after group of people were taken away. It was announced that women with babes in arms could leave. My mother, my 4 year old brother in her arms and I clutching her skirt just walked out. No one stopped us there. We escaped! The Caretaker of our block of designated Jewish flats (with a large Yellow Star on the façade marking it out as such) would not let us in. However, after much debate and begging she relented.
My mother knew that she had to find a safe haven. Either we would perish in the Ghetto or in Poland. We were told by a Dr Rudolf Kastner, head of the Neolog (i.e. Conservative) Community, that the Jews were to be relocated to Poland, where the able bodied would work for the Reich while the elderly looked after the children. The Swiss and Swedish Embassies issued certificates to prove that the holder was a neutral country’s citizen (schutz pass). Some Jews even managed to find a place in one of the protected houses. Raoul Wallenberg organised the rescue of Budapest Jewry from the Swedish side (and who, when the Russians arrived, was arrested and disappeared in the Soviet gulags). It is less known that the Swiss were just as good to us.
>Read Leslie's article 'A Truly Righteous Gentile' for more information<
There were other initiatives too. Some help materialised from the most unexpected quarters and for the most unbelievable reasons. Take, for instance, the case of the famous trucks for Jews affair. Adolf Eichmann, a high-ranking SS Officer, the Jew expert, struck a deal with Dr Rudolf Kastner. He was to hand over the list of the members of the Budapest Jewish Community, plus a supply of trucks from the Western Powers to be used on the Eastern Front, in exchange for a trainload of Jews (who could afford it of course), to leave for Switzerland. To this end, a Mr Joel Brand was dispatched to Istanbul in May 1944 to meet with British representatives to arrange the transaction. It is public knowledge that the British Government deemed the deal not worthy. Joel Brand was promptly arrested as an enemy national! So much for the British!
Jews were obliged to observe a curfew. We were allowed out between 2 and 4 in the afternoon. My mother went out in search for a safe place but could not be back in time. Her Yellow Star gave her away. She was arrested. The Arrow Cross (Hungarian Nazis) took her to their headquarters in number 60 Andrássy Avenue (the same building served as Headquarters for the Communist State Police, A.V.H., later in the 50s). The blood was flowing like rivers in the Interrogation Hall.
People were screaming from the pain inflicted. However, nobody touched my mother. She was always convinced that her interrogators were underground Jewish Activists.
After much search, through a cousin of hers, we managed to be admitted to an orphanage under Papal protection. This was probably the safest place in all of Budapest. Being good Catholics the Hungarians would not violate this place as they had done with the Swedish or Swiss protected houses. We were there with hundreds of children some of whom had seen their parents butchered. Others became mentally ill, for example, were opening the windows calling out to the Nazis that Jews were hiding in the building, endangering us all.
We were fed adequately, until one day, the food supply stopped. After about 3 or 4 days without a thing to eat, I passed out. This emboldened my mother, and the other women looking after us, to leave the building, looking for food. To their great surprise, at the gate they found a Soviet machine gun emplacement.
My mother, who comes from the town of Munkács in Subcarpathian Russia, spoke the language. She told her story to the soldiers there. “So, you say that you are Jewish! We shall see.” was the response. “Nachum come here,” the soldier shouted and Nachum came. He started to converse with my mother in Yiddish. Her knowledge of Yiddish saved the day (the other women being local girls, could not speak the language). They were given food and firewood. This saved us all.
My immediate family survived, but my father’s sisters, with their husbands and children perished in Auschwitz.
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