HOLIDAY CAMP
Indeed, Kecskemét was very much better than Russia. In fact, it was a holiday camp and not only in comparison. We were unbelievably lucky to have arrived there and just as unbelievably lucky to have been able to leave the place in October without a single casualty throughout our stay.
After our arrival we marched to a school in the middle of the country town. There we played soldiers for a day or two and then walked the 8 km to the military airport where our new barracks were being built by a labour company of ex-convicts. They were good enough to work but not good enough to die for their country, so were under the same conditions as we were: i.e. no uniforms, no arms, no pay and always to be accompanied by a guard.
The convict company and ours lived side by side on the outskirts of the airfield and we never once had any trouble or problems with them. In fact they always helped us, shared their sources of food and their art of building latrines with us and on one occasion invited us to their circus performance, during which one of the convicts was buried alive in a coffin six feet underground. When the grave was opened 24 hours later, the buried fellow may have been alive, but certainly he was not present. He must have unburied himself during the night and disappeared, - for ever as far a the Hungarian Army was concerned.
Soon after we arrived to Kecskemét I was called to go to the Company office. Obviously I was in some sort of trouble, or so I thought. However: there was my Father. The surprise of seeing him there could not have been greater. At that time all the Jews from country areas were already "re-settled" (deported to Auschwitz) and even in Budapest no Jew was allowed to be on the streets after curfew. Jews had no right or opportunity to be away from Budapest, which was not only against the law, but would have been dangerous.
Unbeknown to us in Kecskemét, Horthy realised what is happening and decided to do something for the Jews. Whether he was being a humanitarian or wanted to collect bonus points for after the war is of academic interest only. He sent his confidantes around to find out what he should and could do and it was his ADC General Gerloczy who contacted Father, sent a Royal Car with a Crown for a number plate to the Jewish House from where Father was brought to the Royal Palace. There he and the General had some discussions and during the talks, Father was to suggest how the Regent, Admiral Horthy could possibly help.
The scheme discussed was for Horthy to exempt certain Jews and their families from the regulations and make them "Honorary Aryans". Gerloczy listened to this and some other suggestions, excused himself and went to the next room where Horthy was, returned some minutes later, asked a few questions on behalf of Horthy, returned with a message, etc. This is how it went on for quite a while, Horthy was interrogating Father but was so ineffectual and frightened in the country he was almighty in, that he was afraid to see him in person, just in case he is reported to have been meeting and talking with a Jew.
Some days later a courier from the Palace arrived with an envelope in which there were two typed letters exempting Father and Mother from all the regulations restricting the Jews. Father's certificate bore the serial number of 3 and was signed on behalf of Admiral Nicholas von Horthy, Regent of the Kingdom of Hungary.
Within days, Father got on the train and decided to visit his son in Kecskemét. His visit was a great surprise to me, but did cause no great ripples by my comrades in shovels, because my Company was one of non-israelite Jews, i.e. racially Jewish, but not of the Jewish religion. As such we wore a white armband with our soldier cap instead of the yellow armband, a great distinction, but no great advantage. We had plenty of people in our company, whose father or mother was 100% non-Jewish, in fact we had a guy with us whose father used to be Secretary of State until he was found out to have been sleeping with his half-Jewish wife. My best mate's father was actually a professional non-commissioned officer and came to visit his sone every week.
Father and I sat and gossiped outside the office when the young officer in charge of my company came bye. I jumped up to salute him, my Father greeted him with a loud: "Good Afternoon, Lieutenant, Sir!" to which he replied: "What on earth are you doing here, Uncle Kálmán?"
Lieutenant Bocsor was the son of a flour mill owner, who was a customer of Father's and who often visited Father in Budapest with his son. After their chat I realised that things might be looking up for me. Although I did not know what the Lieutenant could do for me, I knew that I have a friend. Luckily for us Bocsor was a friend to us all, even though sometimes he was frightened to show it or wise enough not to.
Bocsor invited Father to be the guest of the Company for meals and he did so, meeting all the important people like Kövári and Kelemen. His fame preceded him because most of these people knew of Father's role in the efforts of ensuring that our train goes to Kecskemét and not to some outrageous place in Russia or Poland.
After a while our wooden barrack sheds, pre-cut in Germany and designed in the same fashion as the concentration camp huts, were erected and we could move out of the school and onto the airfield. There were six side entrances into six rooms of the long building. Each room had a long table and benches in the middle and on both sides shelves, three high. Those shelves were our beds and living areas. Our heads pointed towards the middle so that we could at least breathe. The shelves were about 1 meter high, so that once we were in our "living areas" we could only crawl or sit. Not surprisingly we spent minimal time inside.
In spite of fatigue, sleep did not come easy as the place was really hot and airless, so some of us moved out and slept in the fresh air. However, we awoke with swollen eyes, full of mosquito bites and the dew settled on us. We decided to sleep under the wings of the enormous Gigant planes, that were strategically set up around the airfield. One night while we were asleep one of these planes was towed away and we just missed out on being crushed by it.
Our job was to build a second runway at the airfield while it was being used by both the Hungarian and German Air Force. We had a few Stukas (dive bombers), Messerschmidt ME 110's (fighters) and Focke Wulfs (light bombers) and finally the 6 engined Gigant transport planes. These had noses that could open and the body of the plane could take a tank or 200 people standing up. It was then the largest plane flying and interestingly it was really a glider plane, which used 6 French made engines and a number of small rockets to become airborne. Many were the occasions when we were involved at one end of the runway in building it and had to run for our lives because a Gigant was lumbering down the runway and we felt that it will never take off. Mostly they did.
The road making machinery being used for laying the runway was made by the same German company, who manufactured Father's Medicago hammer mill in Budapest, Prague and Berlin. They were also well known as manufacturers of narrow gauge rail equipment and these were also to be seen around the airfield. Soon it became known in the building contractor's office that one of the chaps in one of the labour companies can be approached for advice as to the best way to order spare parts for an Ohrenstein & Koppel machine.
We had no trouble with the Germans or the Hungarians on the airfield. Especially the German Luftwaffe personnel was polite and absolutely correct in their behavior towards us. Even the gendarmes left us alone, but then we lived on the airfield and made sure that we had the correct authority when we went into Town to paint it red. We actually enjoyed visiting Kecskemét and on one memorable occasion the staff of the local house of ill repute took a day off, purchased food and wine, engaged horse-drawn carriages and came out to the airfield for a picnic. They were amateurs for the day. In the evening they returned to work.
Our life was almost enjoyable, but it was not all skittles. The food was not too bad, but of course most of it was "ersatz" - substitute. Coffee was made from chicory, bread was black and hard and weeks old, meat was available seldom and obviously we were restricted in our movements. Even if we had permission to leave the airfield we had to be escorted by a soldier, who in turn had to be bribed to do the escorting. Health was also at a premium, because in spite of the best intentions, the living conditions, the close proximity in which we were with our comrades, caused a lot of diarrhoea, infections and both flea and lice infestations. The worst was the prevalence of a form of typhoid, which caused the patient to almost waste away in a few days.
I escaped almost all illnesses, except skin problems, and I claim that this was due to the fact that I never went near the official latrines. If I had to go, I picked up a shovel and wandered off to the fields and dug my own, never-to-be-used again hole. While I had lots of diarrhoea attacks I never contracted the dreaded spotted typhoid and in fact I doubt if I had a single day's ailment during all the months I spent in the army, with the exception of my constant dermatitis and some problems with my teeth.
One day I was called to the office and was told by Lieutenant Bocsor that I am to travel to Budapest and bring back some nails which were used to hold the railway lines to the sleepers. It appears that Father was asked to find these nails, which were required to build the narrow gauge rail line on the airfield and of course he had some in stock and Agocs released it to him. He agreed to supply but for every 10 kg nail bartered a day's furlough for his son. I was to be accompanied by a soldier who was to guard me and also to help me carry the nails. We could only carry 40 kg, so that gave me 4 days with my parents in Budapest.
The interesting thing was, that by that time Father, with his Regent's Exemption, and Mother with hers decided that it would be safer to live in a Hotel than in the Jewish House. However, I could not go there as I was not exempted. Thus they lived in the Hotel Császár and I lived in their room at home.
The flat was chock a block with people. Being locked up almost all day, not being allowed either newspapers or radio, they were starved of news of the outside world and I brought to them some hope by coming back home, being sunburned and in fine shape. I could not tell them any horror stories and I was not even giving them the impression that I am returning to my company with reluctance.
There were literarily thousands of people in the 20 flats of the building. One of our new neighbours was a young lady, who like all young people of those days was in a hurry to live her life, in case tomorrow is cancelled. She fell in love with me instantly and never left my side until I left her and Budapest. I was not complaining.
The next time I saw her, less than 12 months later, it was at some sort of celebration or party. By then she was the wife of a Turkish diplomat and to-day I could not even remember her name. I believe that at the same function was the wife of another Turkish official. Her name happened to be Zsazsa Gábor.
Becoming an "important" supplier to the war effort had certain other advantages. Lieutenant Bocsor appointed me to be the custodian of the nails and also I became the storeman in charge of the shovels and other hand tools. My warehouse was at the other side of the airfield amongst all the army and air force officers, both Hungarian and German, and to get there I was provided with transport. Not quite a chauffeur driven car, but a bicycle, a luxury which was very much appreciated as it gave me freedom of movement I enjoyed greatly.
I felt rather bored and lonely on my own so far from everybody, that I considered going back to work to build the runways, but instead I appointed my friend George Kennedy as my assistant. Now there were two of us doing no work. This was noticed by the civilian building supervisor, who insisted on calling himself major and requisitioned for me to become his assistant in addition to my usual job in the warehouse. He spent all of his days sitting at his desk, whittling away at a piece of wood making cigarette holders in the shape of male sex organs. These were all exhibited in his office and had to be dusted every day. This was my job. I also had to make a fire, using the chips of wood from under his desk.
To relieve the boredom I used his telephone. There were not many people I could ring, but I managed to ring my parents in their hotel a few times. The way to do this was to shout at the operator sitting at the airport switch and get her to connect me into the switchboard at Kecskemét. From there I had to be put through to some other Town's switchboard and knowing the code word which gave me a priority I got into the Budapest switchboard, from where all I had to do was to ask for the hotel number. All went well until one day my Father would not recognise my voice on the phone and insisted in telling me that he has no son. I realised that I should cease ringing them and I did. Later I heard from my parents that after one of my phone calls military intelligence rung them to enquire who it was who rung them and why.
We were almost completely isolated from the war. We knew that the Russians were progressing well and were pushing the Germans back, that Tito and his partisans were causing a lot of problems to the Germans and of course we knew that the Allies in France must be winning, because the news services were constantly explaining away the loss of ground in the West as well as in the East.
However, there was very little that suggested to us in our idyllic surroundings that we are in the middle of a vicious war. We sometimes saw in the evening sky the bombing of Budapest, we saw the flashes as the bombs exploded some 150 kilometres away. The bombers that attacked Budapest were Russian and they always came at night. However, every day a huge armada of American planes arrived above Kecskemét on the way back from Germany.
We were not at war with the USA and it seemed that we had an arrangement with them. They did not bomb Budapest and the Hungarian air force kept away from New York. Sometimes they dropped their bombs they could not get rid of earlier over Germany, but our American friends made absolutely sure that they did not drop it on any target larger than wild pigs. The Hungarians protested about the daily overflights, but this was the extent of the quarrel.
Thus it was no surprise to us that the air raid alarm went off every morning at about 11 without fail and on hearing the siren we all, soldiers, airmen and slave labourers were wandering to the centre of the airfield where there was a large reservoir of water. Being mid-summer we were usually frolicking, some in our trunks, some without.
On one memorable occasion we were swimming in the water, when we saw some Messerschmitts coming in to land. This was at the time when the Rumanians, after being allied to the Germans, with no prior warning signed an armistice with the Russians and declared war on the Germans. The Germans began evacuating their troops from Romania by sending almost all their Gigants to airlift arms and troops and being close to Romania and having a long runway, our airport became the home port for the Gigants, which continued to fly out the Germans as long as it was possible.
We believed the Messerschmitts to be German and we were hardly interested. We saw their wheels come down and expected them to land as so many of them did every day. We became interested only when they started to blaze away with their machine guns and cannons at the parked planes.
Although it should have been obvious that they were not after the 40 or so young men frolicking in a muddy water hole, it seemed to us that every shot was directed at us. The whole lot of us ran as fast as we could out of the water and tried to burrow ourselves into a nearby mound of clay. Never could one describe the sight of so many nude bottoms pointing to the sky and seeing no heads attached to them.
The attack was carried out by Romanian planes. It was repeated next day, when the destruction of every plane on the airfield was completed. It was difficult to hide one's glee at having seen some 50 German planes destroyed.
By early October it became obvious that war is approaching Kecskemét. The Russians were coming and we were discussing if we should hide and get liberated when the Russians occupy the area, or if we should retreat with the Germans.
Some decided to stay, they were the unlucky ones. When the Russians came, they did not get a great reception from them and were not allowed to follow them back to their lines when they withdrew. Staying in no men's land they were betrayed by the Hungarian population and many were summarily shot by the SS.
Most of us, however, decided to retreat as soon as possible and we were watching what the German and Hungarian air force people were doing. In this respect I became a very important link in our intelligence service. I worked in the middle of the air force offices and actually sat in an office where there were both Germans and Hungarians. I could overhear their telephone conversations, hear them discussing the situation and generally I could gauge what the situation was.
By that time Lieutenant Bocsor was almost completely dedicating himself to ensuring the safety of his 250 slave labourers. He was a great little bloke and the fact that he might have been promised financial rewards if and when it will all be over, does not take anything from the fact that he was a gentleman.
My friend Kennedy was very sick with an infection on his thigh and he left employment as my assistant warehouse man. Instead I got a middle aged fellow to help me do nothing, who was cheeky with the Hungarian soldiers and constantly baited the civilian workers of the Army and Air force installations, who came to us for their hand tools. He told them what he will do to them when the Russians come and made himself a very unpopular man to both his labour comrades and to his enemies.
The closer the Russians came, the more nervous these people became, realising that on our testimony will depend what will be done to them after the Russians arrive. They were particularly disturbed by my idiotic abrasive assistant and 4 or 5 of them decided to do him in. They beat him until he was half dead, then they knifed him and left him for dead. I watched horrified from a distance, could do nothing except to run for one of the officers, who knew him and suggested that he deserves the beating.
He did not die, but I actually had to push his eye back into its socket before I put him on a horse drawn cart and dispatched him into the hospital. He stayed there through the first three day occupation of Kecskemét by the Russians, survived the return of the Germans and I met him after the war, aggressive as ever.
Bocsor relied more and more on two comrades of ours, who were both ex-officers, and who could be said were almost in charge of our company. Kövári and Kelemen, both called George, were as different as chalk and cheese, but single minded about surviving and ensuring that they knew about anything that happened around us. With foresight, they were buying food from the peasants and stockpiling it, while ensuring that the food given to us was nourishing and that we were fit and healthy. They even bought medicine on the black market and were most concerned for us all. There were others high in the pecking order. Another George, Schusztek, (who later married Rózsi Bársony, the Marilyn Monroe of Hungary) and even the Barons Tornyai and Dirsztay, together with Goldpierre, a well known poet and playwright, are members of the top echelon as Bocsor consults them also. I also become important, but only as a listening post. Furthermore I had a bicycle and thus became the most mobile of our company and its official courier.
On the 4th October I reported to Kövári and Kelemen that the German Air force is issuing rifles to the aircrew, whose planes were destroyed. On the 5th I see some German Waffen SS troops digging in just outside the airfield. Next day I tell Bocsor that the German and Hungarian airforce people are burning their files and packing up.