November 4 additional units of the Soviet army stormed into Budapest and other Hungarian cities, and by November 10 the battle had ended with the defeat of the Hungarian freedom fighters. Several thousand Hungarians died in the revolution, and more than two hundred thousand people fled the country. In the months following, thousands more were imprisoned, deported, or executed.
For me, the morning of the revolution began like any other day. We went to school, but on the way home we noticed a lot of trucks with young university students crowded on top, waving the Hungarian flag and shouting, “Soviets go home!” I remember thinking, Why would we want them to go home if they were our so called “liberators”? When we got back to the orphanage, our supervisors were glued to the radio and were whispering to one another. By the evening we were told that if anyone had a place to go they should leave, just in case our building got attacked.
It was about 7:00 p.m. when I left the orphanage to go to my mother’s place. My father lived much farther away and I was told to avoid certain areas that had become very dangerous. By this time there was complete chaos all over the city. All the streetcars and buses had stopped operating, so I was on foot, trying to stay on side streets to avoid the mobs. At one point, a guy jumped out of his truck, pulled the red kerchief off my neck, and yelled, “Don’t wear that thing around your neck because it will get you killed!” I was completely confused and burst into tears. The red kerchief had been a symbol of freedom even as early as that morning! What had changed?
It took two very long hours to get to my mom’s place. My grandma was in complete panic when I arrived. Apparently, my mother was on her way to the orphanage to get me. There were rumors everywhere that the Jews were again in danger and might be deported. My grandparents and I were trying to listen to the news on the radio, but we got nothing but static. We did manage to hear something about taking our country back and chasing the Soviet occupiers out of Hungary. We were terribly worried about my mother because we heard gunshots everywhere. Thankfully, she returned home safely by midnight.
By the next day, the Hungarian revolutionaries had taken over the radio station and we heard from the leader of the revolt, Imre Nagy. He assured us that we would win the revolution, that we would banish the Soviet occupation once and for all, and that our country would finally be free and independent of any foreign influence.
We were not allowed to go outside for several days, and often we had to go down to the basement when we heard the siren warning of approaching Soviet tanks. Rumors were going around that the Soviets were coming in full force to quash the revolution. We heard that anyone opposing the Soviet occupation would go to jail or be killed. This was definitely bad news for us, as both of my uncles were fighting with our freedom fighters.
On Tuesday, November 20, 1956, after the failure of the revolution and with the shooting finally slowing down, my father came and took me to his place. He told my mom that he wanted to spend some time with me because he was concerned that I wasn’t practicing my cello. He also said that we would go out to the countryside to bring back some meat and other food supplies. That sounded really good because we had very little to eat and hadn’t had any meat for weeks. With that I said good-bye to my mother and grandparents and left with my father. I remember holding his hand when we were walking to his place. I was so happy he had risked his life to come and get me.
When we got to his place, Dad fixed our usual meal of some old bread, dry salami, and hot tea. He told me that we had to go to sleep right after supper because we were leaving for the countryside very early the next morning to get some meat to bring home. I believed him. I thought it was odd that he didn’t ask me to practice my cello while we were there, but I didn’t ask any questions.
I tried to go to sleep on the sofa bed, but I kept waking up. At one point I saw my father sitting under a very dim light as he sewed some money into the lining of his big leather coat. As I watched him sewing with one arm, I couldn’t believe his concentration and skill. I watched with great admiration as he held the needle in his teeth and threaded it. Then he held his coat in his teeth and sewed the money inside the lining. I wanted to help him so badly that night, but something told me that I was not supposed to see what he was doing. I also wondered why he was hiding money inside his coat.
He got me up at 4:00 a.m., and when we went downstairs there was a big truck waiting for us on the street. When I climbed into the truck I saw that it was it was full of people. I counted them—thirty people exactly, including us. Were they all going to the country to get some food? It was still very dark outside, and the whole city seemed to be asleep. Dad told me to be very quiet. I tried to listen to what people were talking about and found it interesting that nobody was talking about all the meat and other food supplies they were going to buy.
We traveled for many hours and arrived in the city of Vesprem late in the afternoon. I vaguely remembered having heard that people used this city as one of the stops when they were trying to reach the border. The truck dropped us off at an elementary school building. We were ushered into a classroom by a nice, elderly man. I noticed that everybody gave him some money. He brought us some food and told us that he would be back to pick us up at 4:30 in the morning. We were not allowed to turn lights on and were told to be very quiet. Everyone slept on the hardwood floor, and it was very cold. My father wrapped me up in his leather coat and I fell asleep right away.
I still believed we were there to buy food and supplies. I thought we were paying off this man to make sure that he kept quiet so we wouldn’t have to share our food supplies with other people.
The morning came quickly and we were on another truck, with a driver who looked like a young farmer. After a few hours of driving we stopped next to a dense forest. The driver handed maps to some of the men and wished us good luck. I remember his words: “This is as far as I can take you, folks. God bless you and good luck.” I saw some of the men give money to the driver, and then he drove off.
I was one of the youngest of the group, with the exception of a set of infant twins. The men discussed the map for a few minutes, and then we started walking. Being November, it was cold and damp, but thankfully it wasn’t snowing and we had good visibility. We were told to stay low and try to avoid any clearings, where we would be visible to the border patrols. Crossing the railroad tracks we had to crawl on all fours so we wouldn’t be detected by either the Soviet army or the Hungarian guards. We had to go through several wooded areas with very thick brush. My dad was carrying a backpack and a small suitcase. My job was to push the branches out of the way to clear a path so we could keep moving. My hands and arms were scratched and bleeding from the thorns and the thick brush, but we couldn’t stop because it was going to get dark early and everyone seemed eager to reach our destination while it was still light outside. I began to wonder what the real purpose of this dangerous adventure was, but I was afraid to ask any questions.
We ran out of water by noon, and everyone became increasingly thirsty as the day wore on. At one point our group got separated as we crossed over railroad tracks. As I recall, some of the men thought that thirty people walking in one group would be too conspicuous. They decided we needed to be very careful and so we split into two groups. The family with twins got separated from each other—one baby and his dad were with us, and the other and his mother were with the other group. The mood was somber, and people were very quiet. My instincts told me not to ask any questions and to simply keep walking.
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