When the Danube Ran Red

19 Evil Tidings

118 19 E vil Tidings A loud discussion between my mother, my father, and Erzsi next morning woke me up, making it clear to me that they thought we must flee immediately and find a place to hide. Erzsi left hurriedly, but she returned within a few hours bringing bad news. Most people who had offered their dwellings to us during the summer were not around any more; they had left for the countryside or moved to other addresses. There was only one couple she had found at home during her search, but, she said, they told her that they were now frightened of their neighbors and therefore unwilling to let Jews move into their apartment. Still, Erzsi did not feel defeated. She said she believed what my father maintained, that the task was easier at this point in the war than it had been during the spring or summer of this year. While the danger was greater, as the Nyilas pulled together their forces to eliminate the remaining Jews in Budapest, the end was closer. The Allies were already fighting in Germany, and the Soviet army was marching toward Budapest ; the end of the regime, my father maintained, was a question of a couple of months rather than years. “It won’t last long,” he said again and again. Quite optimistically, Erzsi went out on a search the next day. To no avail: she came back empty-handed. It was October 17. She went out to search on October 18 as well. Finally, on October 19, she located a person who offered his help. She and my father decided to go back to visit him once more, the next day. That visit did not take place, however, for on that day, something happened that was worse than any of my Evil Tidings 119 nightmares, worse than my fears of Hanna’s marketplace, worse than my decision to take my life: the Arrow Cross came, picked up my father, and marched him off to a camp. We woke up at 6:00 a.m. to a horrible scream. We ran to the entrance hall; peeking through the keyhole, my father saw that several of the Nyilas were racing through the staircase of the house, rifles slung from their shoulders. We ran back to the inside of the apartment, but could not help hearing as they shot their way inside some apartments. Those doors on our floor, including ours, they just kicked in or tore open, yelling , “Every man between sixteen and fifty, every woman between sixteen and forty-five, get ready! Hurry downstairs!” “Wake up, you lazy lot! Out of bed! Every decent Hungarian is at work, but you are asleep, damn Jews!” “Wake up! Wake up! The time for being a bum is over!” “Men between sixteen and fifty, out of bed.” “Out of bed, swines!” “You must be at the entrance of the house by 6:15; if you are not, we will come, get you, and shoot you dead!” “We have the list of names in our hands! We know who you are! If you don’t appear downstairs in fifteen minutes, we’ll find you in your apartment.” Iván did not fall into the age group they came to drive away, neither did I or my mother. My father did. Dressing and hurrying up, he reached for the backpack prepared by my mother a couple of days before. I ran into the room and threw myself on his bed. It was still warm. His face in anguish, he bent over me. Iván came in too. In a hurry, my father kissed us and left. We went after him to the foyer. “If any of you damned Jews follow these swines, we’ll shoot you on sight,” a tall, strong man with a pockmarked face screamed at us. I ran back and again threw myself on my father’s bed. Now it felt cold. Then I ran to the window. Carefully watching from behind the curtain , Iván and I observed a growing group of about forty to fifty men, When the Danube R an Red 120 standing on the street, forming rows of five. And there were women in another group, but farther to the right. “The marketplace,” I thought to myself, recognizing clearly that the image of my nightmares had now materialized: “He had promised me that they wouldn’t do...