Outcasts (28 page)
Without having a clear idea of what he was going to do, Bela decided to head toward the administration building. He surveyed the distance. He would have to walk two hundred metres past an American guard with a Tommy gun slung over his shoulder.
Bela had seen enough of American soldiers to be able to imitate their air of self-confidence. He simply had to imagine being part of the victorious side. No matter how hard he tried to build confidence, however, his knees were turning to pudding at the thought of the distance he had to cross.
Fortunately, he still had one last piece of chewing gum, saved from the pack the Americans had given them during the march. Bela knew the gum was a critical part of the "American look." As he put it in his mouth and started to chew, he realized the gum also helped calm the queasiness of his knees and his stomach.
If he was going to do anything at all, he had to do it now. He felt his courage already dissipating.
Bela garnered his last bit of strength, put on the best swagger he could muster, and walked toward and past the American guard with the Tommy gun. The young private was also chewing gum, checking him out with a look of disdain. Bela walked calmly. The guard didn't seem to be suspicious, probably thinking that if Bela was trying to escape, he would have been walking away from the administration building, not toward it.
Bela forced his feet to take slow, measured steps. If he was going to be shot, it would happen any second now. He braced himself and realized taking a bullet in the back would be a quick, easy, relatively painless way to go. The shot never came, however, and Bela didn't look back, only ahead.
As he reached the door of the administration building, he froze. What will I do now?
As he stood there in a frozen stupor, he saw through the glass pane that a uniformed officer was heading out of the building. Bela grabbed the doorknob, opened it, saluted the soldier, and closed the door behind him. With his heart pounding so loudly he was convinced the entire camp could hear it, he cautiously looked around. All was calm. The private with the Tommy gun wasn't even looking at him.
Another soldier came in, another officer went out. Bela opened the doors for both.
Until noon that day, Bela dutifully opened and closed the door and saluted everyone entering and exiting. No one asked what he was doing there. There were two doors - an inner and outer door. By noon Bela was opening and closing both doors from inside the building. At lunch time one of the staff approached him and said, "Come on kid, help pass out the lunches."
Bela understood, nodded, and said, "Yes, yes," trying not to seem overanxious.
Bela was directed to the basement where there were boxes of food piled to the ceiling. He was shown where the prepackaged boxes of lunch rations were, and instructed to bring up a dozen - one for each of the clerks upstairs.
Bela dutifully passed out all the lunch rations, ate a lunch portion as well, then went down to the basement again and helped himself to more food, grabbing packages at random from cartons full of chocolate bars, crackers, cookies. He even found a hen laying eggs in the basement. He grabbed two eggs, cracked them carefully, then poured the insides straight into his mouth, swallowing the raw whites and yolks whole.
After lunch, Bela returned to his post at the door and continued working until the staff in the administration building finished their day. Around four o'clock, when he completed his task, he casually went down to the basement again and filled his pants pockets: cans of spam, sardines, condensed milk, crackers, chocolate bars, and cheese -everything he could grab. Walking very carefully, with each pant leg looking like an overstuffed sausage, Bela sauntered past the guard again. Trying to look nonchalant, Bela even gave him a little wave. The guard was smoking and busy reading a paperback book. A scantily clad woman with voluptuous, half-exposed breasts decorated the cover. Bela thought the soldier must have been reading the sexy parts, as the guard barely looked up to acknowledge the greeting.
"Where were you?" Tibor asked when he returned. "I was worried about you!"
Bela motioned to his brother to come under cover of their tarp and, looking around to make sure no one was watching them, slowly unpacked the packages of meat, fish, crackers, cookies, and chocolate bars hidden in his pockets. Tibor grabbed a chocolate bar ravenously, ripped it open, and practically swallowed it whole. Then another. He smiled at his brother. "You're amazing."
Bela told him about his stint as doorman.
Then Tibor's expression changed to a look of concern.
"You stole all this food? They're going to come after you. What were you thinking?"
"What was I thinking? We're starving! Are we just supposed to lie here and die of starvation? Anyway, if they want to come after me, let them. Sooner or later we're all gonna die with what they're giving us to eat."
That night they went to sleep, without feeling hungry, for the first time since they arrived.
The next day everyone woke to the sound of sirens blaring: six military policemen in two jeeps were driving through the camp. There were no roads - the jeeps simply drove wherever they wanted to, the prisoners jumping up and out of the way like pigeons scattering before a speeding car. The sound of those sirens confirmed Bela's worst fear.
"This is it," he said to Tibor. "I'm finished. The Americans found out I stole their food." It was probably the two missing eggs that gave him away. There was only one chicken, after all.
As the jeeps sped through the camp, almost running over several prisoners, flattening tents and sleeping areas, one of the military police ordered a stop and began to study the faces of the prisoners.
Then, one of the MPs recognized Bela and shouted to the others, "That's him!"
Two MPs grabbed Bela and got him into the jeep. The jeeps turned around and drove back to the administration building.
When they arrived the MP who identified Bela pointed to the front steps and motioned to Bela.
"Get back to your post!"
Still incapacitated with fear, Bela was incredulous. He simply couldn't believe what he was hearing.
The MP thought maybe Bela didn't understand and yelled again, louder and slower this time, emphasizing each word.
"We need you o-o-o-pen and clo-o-o-o-ose the door." With that, he stretched out his arm and pointed to the door.
Bela's fear dissipated into an unbelievable sense of relief. No one had noticed all the food he had taken - they just wanted him to get back on the porch and be a doorman!
Each morning from then on, he left the fenced in prison encampment, walked past the private guarding the main entrance, made his way over to the administration building, and saluted everyone going in and out until noon. Then, he dutifully went down to the basement and brought up the lunch rations and distributed them to everyone in the offices. He was courteous, friendly, and helpful.
His English was improving rapidly, as was his ability to deftly gather and hide foodstuffs in his pants. He learned to walk effortlessly as he smuggled cans and packages of condensed milk, spam, corned beef, cookies, and chocolates in his pants pockets. He took a lot less than on that first day, and learned how to pilfer it - one can here, one package there - without anyone noticing a large stash missing from any one box.
Other inmates were also given the chance to work. The camp commanders asked for volunteers to work outside the camp. Everyone who was still healthy volunteered for such a chance. Tibor was chosen to work in such a brigade, and he and his group were taken to a lumber mill to sort wood. The volunteers were not paid, but were given real food. Tibor brought back pieces of wood for a tent frame.
Food became the currency of the camp, and Bela and Tibor were able to trade for a better spot, further up and away from the first row, directly beside the latrine and the horrible smells. As the days became warmer, the smell became worse.
With the wood Tibor bought from the lumberyard, they had a new centre pole and created a makeshift frame. In camp terms, they started to become relatively well-off.
Bela and Tibor were hounded by others to share their tent and food. It was an impossible situation - they couldn't share their food with thousands of others, no matter how much Bela took from the American food-storage facility. They did, however, take in two others who they knew from their hometown.
Hungarian army officers who ended up in this camp received the same treatment as the rest. They were still in a position of authority visa-vis their own men, but could do little except share in the hunger and humiliation of their prisoner-of-war status.
A few commanding officers pretended nothing had changed, such as Major John J. Varga, who was constantly barking orders at everyone. Varga surrounded himself with yes-men to reinforce his own delusion that he was still in charge. The major was a tall man with big bones, somewhat overweight, with thinning hair. He wore black-framed glasses, sported a goatee, and always had a stern look on his face. Everyone was convinced he was crazy as, on hot days, he stripped off all his clothes and walked around naked.
Once a week each company received flour rations. While there were several military cooks in each company, they didn't have anything to cook with. Without any ingredients or utensils, they tried in various ways to make something with the flour.
Major Varga surreptitiously stole some of the company's communal rations, gave it to his camp cook, and ordered him to make
langos
(fried bread) for himself and his entourage. Tibor became aware of this thievery and threatened to expose the major if he didn't stop stealing the company's flour rations, especially when everyone else was always hungry.
Bela's job as doorman gave them the kind of independence and security others simply didn't have. But while Tibor's stomach was full, his heart still ached from witnessing the miserable conditions of the others around them. Tibor couldn't tolerate that an officer, someone whose rank still commanded respect, was stealing from those entrusted to his care.
The major found out about Tibor's accusations through an assistant. He was incensed.
"What is this little nobody, a reservist, accusing me of?" he screamed at one of his assistant's. "You tell this nobody to report to me for a hearing tomorrow at 8:00 a.m. promptly."
Tibor was informed of the "obligatory" hearing and told Bela where he was going. Bela was furious.
"Why are you going? Major Varga has no power over us!"
"I'm just gonna have a chat with him."
"He has no right to order you to such a hearing," Bela snapped. "Who does he think he is, and where does he think we are?"
"The whole thing is ridiculous," Tibor replied. "If I don't go, he'll just call me a liar. Plus, who knows what stupid things he'll say about us."
Bela insisted on going with his brother.
Major Varga sat like a king holding court, stark naked, but fortunately for everyone around him, the overhang of his belly covered most of his genitalia. Tibor and Bela stood before Major Varga, who looked at them sternly and shouted, "How dare you come before me like this, undressed. Your buttons aren't done up all the way!"
The brothers shot a side glance at one another, not quite believing what the major had said. They didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Sir, this war is over. You are just as much a prisoner of war as we are," Tibor replied in a quieter tone.
Major Varga's face became crimson, and contorted with anger. He started shouting even louder.
"I will report you to the authorities!"
"What authorities?" Bela shouted back.
By this time everyone within hearing distance started to pay attention. Major Varga seemed startled that someone had yelled back. He started to say something, but Bela cut him off.
"If you don't stop stealing the company's rations, we'll tell everyone what you've been doing. You know men here have killed each other for a piece of bread. As an officer, you should be ashamed of yourself!"
Major Varga took a hard swallow, collected himself, and yelled in a steady dictatorial tone, "I will have you both court martialled -"
But before he could finish, Bela once again cut him off.
"I look forward to that, Major Varga, but before we get there you will be dead, torn from limb to limb and decapitated by our fellow prisoners once we tell them what you've been doing."
The beady eyes of Major Varga glazed over. Something registered. The message slowly sank in. His massive chest seemed to collapse under the weight of comprehension. The argument was over. The half-crazed major felt the pain of defeat at last.
In the middle of June 1945, after roughly forty days in captivity, an unexpected announcement was made at Tittling:
"The Hungarians can gather their gear - get whatever belongs to you. You are being transferred."
Nothing was said about where they were going, and no one asked anything.
Tibor was elated - they were finally leaving - but Bela looked disappointed.
"Now, when we have shelter, work, and a whole system of survival worked out - now we are probably going to be sent to a new place where we have to start all over again," Bela said with a long face.
"Don't be so pessimistic, little brother. You'll see we're going to a better place."
The Hungarian prisoners of war were assembled, put on open trucks, and, within a day, transferred to a refugee camp called Pocking, inside Germany near the border with Austria.
K
AROLA
A
YKLER SAT INSIDE
the little chapel in Micheldorf, immersed in prayer. Her favourite spot was the pew directly in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary holding a plump, but serious-looking baby Jesus. The statue was of carved wood, but Karola marvelled at how the painted cloak on the statue seemed to flow, as if it were real blue cloth. She stared at the face of the Virgin as she prayed. Possibly it was the candlelight falling onto the statue from below, flickering and dancing, that lent a soft, mysterious glow to the face of the Madonna, but Karola was convinced that the countenance of that wooden statue softened and occasionally looked right at her. Local residents claimed that this chapel was a holy place and there were numerous reports that, at certain times of the year, the eyes of the statue came to life. During the war, worshippers provided sworn testimony that wet droplets appeared on its face of the statue.
