SLEEPING AROUND
The Brothel
I took Father to the brothel (actually it was more of an assignation service, but she usually had one girl in the flat ready for work) and introduced him to Frau Eidam, who probably knew exactly why somebody like him wishes to take up residence in the maid's room off the kitchen in a flat of ill repute. However, she displayed the same professional discretion as would be expected if he would have visited a brothel instead of taking up residence there and she never asked any questions then or any other time. I left them and went back to see how Mother is going and then back to my bed-going bed at Mrs Szabó.
The Transylvanian butcher was still going out into the country by tram in the morning, buying a pig, butchering it and bringing it back in a huge bag and selling it off the kitchen table of Mrs. Szabó. I usually bought some meat for my "comrades on the front" but delivered them to either Mother or Father. The butcher and I were good friends, so much so that he invited me to become his partner and travel with him to buy and butcher pigs. I declined.
My official cover was that I was serving in a Company in the front line just east of Budapest and I was supposed to be always on my way either to the front or as a courier back to my officers at an Army headquarters near to Mrs Szabó's place.
However sometimes my story was that I was injured and while I could show my blood poison scar on my wrist, which was well healed in spite of my trying to keep it as a wound by frequent scratching, my limp was easier to demonstrate as an injury, but would have carried no weight if subjected to medical scrutiny.
It would not have been healthy to be detained and investigated, especially not if the Arrow Cross or the Army was to have caught you. The penalty for desertion was immediate hanging and there were people whose body could be seen, hanging from lamp posts in the City, sporting blackboards or pieces of paper declaring "I was a deserter" or "This is what deserters deserve". Of course this did not make you less of a deserter but it made you more desperate and more careful.
Nevertheless it was impossible to move on the street and not be stopped by some organisation, who wanted to know your right of being on the street. I was stopped almost daily and it was a nerve racking experience to be checked for your papers.
On one occasion it was obvious to me that those who looked at my papers had their suspicion, because they made me stand in an area guarded by one of them and they kept my papers. Understandably I was anxious and after a while decided that I cannot loose by becoming aggressive. I had my stick on me and started to shout at the men, punctuating my remarks by waving and knocking my stick against the ground:
"It is ridiculous to get one miserable day's leave and wasting it here, waiting for an officer!"
"Is that the treatment we wounded soldiers deserve?"
I made so much noise that they had another look at my papers, handed them over to me and let me go.
It is interesting to recall that a new relationship developed between me and my parents and especially Father. Whereas he used to be completely in charge, he now allowed all decisions to be made by me and although he had an opinion on what he or I should do, he never forced his opinion, in case it turns out to be the wrong one and he needs to blame himself for a tragedy. Generally, he agreed with all what was done and decided by me, who did not possess the wisdom or caution of trying to stay responsible. Indeed, if I would have acted with less bravado and more sense, if decisions would have been taken by me with more caution and without what in retrospect seem enormous risks, I would have had to be completely inactive. Undoubtedly, my parents' chances of survival would have been worse.
Now that I had my parents settled it was time for me to have a few of my own problems. Mrs Szabó warned me one night that two gendarmes who were refugees themselves and were living next flat made enquiries about me while I was out. I did not sleep very well that night and in the morning nice and early I dressed and quietly left the flat.
The building was a typical European housing settlement type, built around 1900. There were 4 floors and they were built around a courtyard. Each of the small flats had their entrance from the landings which were, as if they would have been balconies, arranged around the courtyard. If all the people living in the flats would have stood in front of their doors on the landings, any person in the courtyard could have addressed all the inhabitants.
This time I was hoping to leave quietly through the staircase which was also open to anybody to see from almost any part of the landing. As I got down to the first floor level I heard shouting and saw a gendarme in uniform standing on top ordering me to stop. I doubted the wisdom of running across the courtyard, because they had rifles and I had no ways of taking cover. However, my choices were limited.
I run out on to the road, where the tramlines were in the centre and saw a tram approaching from the right. As it got close I jumped up the moving tram's foot plate. The driver shouted at me to get off and when I did not, brought the tram to a stop. I finally jumped off. Just then another tram was approaching from the opposite direction. This time I jumped on to it from the centre and in the rear so that the driver shouldn't see me. Hanging on to the hand rail this tram bore me towards the house from where I just rushed and as we travelled past it I could see the two gendarmes just stopping a car and going off in hot pursuit of the tram from which I was expelled. Had I not been told to get off the first tram they would have caught up with me.
I went to Mother and told her that I need to find somewhere else to live. She suggested that perhaps I could stay a night with her and I agreed. Next day, I was approached by Csöpi, who quietly told me that they overheard me telling my Mother about my problems and if I want to stay there, I should feel free to do so.
(The photo shows Csöpi and I in 2006 when my wife and 2 of my grandchildren visited her in hospital where she spent the last 5 years of her wonderful life.)
One has to realise that neither Csöpi nor her mother had any sort of inkling that we might reward them after the war, it was just never discussed. They accepted that we had more than they had and that we contributed to our upkeep by buying food and sharing it with them or giving them money so that they may buy something, if available, which they would share with us. Neither were they religious nor did they have any political affiliations or feelings towards communists or Nazis. They were just human beings, uneducated but bright, poor but happy, who realised that we were in need of their help and found it absolutely natural for them to give that help in the purest fashion.
After being there for a day or so it became obvious to Zanyu, as Mrs. Reszeli was called, that I left behind all my belongings at Mrs. Szabó and she volunteered to go and get it. I had misgivings about this because amongst my few items of clothing there were false papers which were awaiting to be filled in with names, etc. I imagined that if the gendarmes found those papers they will await me when I pick it up or else they will follow the person who picks up my luggage for me. I warned her of the danger she risks.
Zanyu did not listen to me, she said that I have nothing to fear and went off to collect my bundle. Causing us to worry for her safety, she did not come back for many hours, but when she did, she told us that the delay was due to her spending a lot of time traveling from one place to another and making sure that nobody is following her.
She also brought Mrs. Szabó's regards to me and her warning to me that I should not return. The gendarmes called on her again and told her to let them know if I should come back. She promised to do so.
Every now and then I visited Father, who has now arranged with Frau Eidam the payment of 1 gold coin per day, always provided she does not allow any of her girls to work there. I never found out if Father did not want the temptation of the girls, or if he was disturbed by the visitors who rang the door bell at all hours of the day and night. Frau Eidam kept her word only during the night, but she could not refuse to admit any girls visiting her, and if someone called while a girl was there, well she couldn't really refuse the extra money. It would not have been fair to either the girl or the men.
I must say that I never saw any, except one of Frau Eidam's girls until after the Russians came, although we heard them visiting Frau Eidam, bringing her food, or just coming for a gossip. She always shared with us whatever they brought. There was another tenant, the Romanian, who was also sharing the food with us and we could have been one happy family, but we were not. It was not their fault.
Frau Eidam was a non-stop teller of her past experiences. When she was a young prostitute in Vienna she was obviously a multi faceted specialist because her exploits were certainly out of the ordinary. She was telling her stories to us proudly, making sure that we realised that she excelled in her profession.
Her auto-biography would make better reading than my story.
One day while going to Mother, I accidentally met Kövári. He was in uniform and lived in a similar fashion to me. Kelemen was in the Ghetto, together with Kövári's girlfriend and her Mother. When he heard that I got refugee papers for my parents he asked me to get some for him, his girlfriend and Kelemen also. I promised to do so and after we parted, remembered that both their names started with "K".
By the time I realised this, I was sorry that I promised to have a go at getting the papers as I was becoming nervous about returning there again and especially to the same desk. Still, I promised and in any case, Kövári got me my papers and I have to try for the sake of reciprocating.
In spite of my forebodings I got the papers without any problems. The official in charge of refugees whose name starts with a "K" was not the same I met on the previous two occasions. I made Kövári into my cousin and a married man, his girl friend became his wife. Kelemen was another cousin and when the fellow behind the desk asked why they have different names I tell him that they and I are all of German origin, but we changed our names to sound Hungarian. No trouble at the police stations either, I went to two of them, nowhere near to each other. There were so many refugees by now that getting the papers was surprisingly easy.
Next day I met Kövári, who was delighted to get the papers. It was the last time I ever saw him. Somehow he managed to get Kelemen out of the Ghetto, but had difficulty in arranging his fiancé’s escape. Finally, he and Kelemen decided to go into the Ghetto and bring her out. On the way in they are stopped and taken to an Arrow Cross House where they were tortured until they admitted that they were Jews and that their papers were obtained illegally. They are taken down the street and in front of the Hotel Royal both of them get a bullet in the back of their neck, in full view of passers bye in one of the main boulevards of Budapest.
Kövári died instantly, but Kelemen was picked up by strangers and was still alive. The bullet entered the back of his neck, through his mouth, shattered his teeth, damaged his throat and chin, but he was still alive. He was taken to a hospital, where he stayed until liberated. I met him after the war, when he was happy but still a mess. He warned me that Kövári's fiancé blames me for his death. Neither Kelemen nor I could understand why. Next time I met him, after a number of operations he was almost perfectly well.
Another sad case is that of a school mate of mine. I met him one day on my way to Mother and I told him what my cover story is. I also told him that I am running out of my supply of false papers and he suggests that I meet him later that evening in a coffeehouse situated at "Freedom Square". For some reason I could not get there, but passed through Freedom Square next morning. As I approach the large square, I realise that something is going on and when I see soldiers with Arrow Cross armbands directing people from all approaches to the square towards the centre I realise that there are people hanging from trees.
One of them was my school friend, the others were the boys I was supposed to meet. After the war I meet his mother, who tells me that she hasn't heard from him for months, but that she has heard from others that he is in Germany. Of course I was too much of a coward to tell her that I saw her dead son months ago.
I also had more pleasant meetings with people I knew. One day I was on a crowded tram when two armed Arrow Cross men and a girl in Arrow Cross uniform (green shirt, everything else black) boarded the tram. I recognised the girl and she smiled at me, but said nothing. Buci Kovarcz was the daughter of one of the most infamous Nazis, who became a Minister and eventually was tried and executed for the murder of thousands of Jews.
I knew her from my holiday at Lake Balaton, when she and I were going out a few times. After a while I broke off the relationship as it was against the law for a Jew to have sexual relations with a Gentile woman, and even 'though there was no question of anything but a few kisses and a bit of groping around, I did not even wish to be subjected to the suspicion of it. Now on the tram she held in her hand my possible death, had she told about me to her fellow Nazis. She did not and in fact she moved in such a way that her companions had to have their back towards me.
After the war I read in a newspaper that she was in prison awaiting trial. I am afraid I did not try and help her. Happily for my conscience I read soon afterwards that both her and her mother were released and their trial was abandoned.
The other person I met was a guy who went to the same class as I did. He was a junior officer in the army but wore an Arrow Cross armband. He stopped me on the street and interrogated me on why I am wearing army uniform when I am a Jew, etc. I asked him if he is going to report me or cause my arrest. He was quite hurt: how could he betray a friend of his? I must say that I never regarded him as a friend but on that day under the circumstances I was very happy to be a friend of his.
When later he was attacked in school, where we returned after it was all over, I spoke up for him and he came to no harm. Similarly I spoke up for one of our teachers, who I knew helped a class mate of mine, who disappeared later and could not speak for him.
I did not speak up for another teacher of mine, who used to come to our home to teach me and who arrived the day after the house where we lived was evacuated by the Jews. He took over our flat and when the house was almost destroyed, removed everything of value, including even my father's dinner suit, he could find. To his bad luck we survived and we were tactless enough to ask that our belongings should be returned.
I had to move around a lot. I lived with Father in the brothel for 3 or 4 days and then moved to Mother for a similar period of time. They were living about 6 kilometres apart, Father on the outskirts and Mother in the centre of Budapest. To go from one to the other I would have had to go through one of the two Ghettos, and since that was neither possible nor desirable the distance I had to walk from one to the other became considerably more than 6 kilometres.
The war was going on every where but in Hungary, or so it seemed. In October the Russians were 80 kilometres from Budapest, in November and December there was no change, they were just as far as ever. How long are we likely to last without any action around us? The Germans took all the Jews from the country, then the Arrow Cross took all the men from Budapest and the old men and the women and children are now being starved to death in the Ghettos. If that is not enough they are going into the houses and dragging out people for torture and to shoot them into the Danube. There is no food to be bought any more, not even for the Gentiles, even they live on the food they stockpiled, - how long can the Jews last without anything?
Even if Wallenberg could get all the food he needs to distribute it is impossible for him to do so. There were some 100,000 Jews to feed, an impossible task. Thus it is natural for the dead to be placed in front of the houses to be collected and buried in the parks outside the Ghetto. There is nothing green in Ghettos.
For us it is not that bad, as yet. Mrs. Eidam still finds the odd thing and shares it with us. Csöpi and Zanyu also get a few things and while we cannot say that we eat enough, we are surviving and will cope with it all until after liberation.