Outcasts

by Susan M. Papp

  Domokos nodded knowingly as Hokky crumpled up the paper and threw it also into the fire. Domokos motioned to his friend to give him a piece of paper. "Was anyone killed?" he wrote.

  "Only the station master," Hokky wrote back. "He happened to be an ethnic Hungarian." Hokky looked up at his friend and continued to write. "These groups worry me, Domokos."

  Domokos read what he had written and nodded. "They nearly killed me yesterday," he wrote back. "They thought I was a Jew."

  Finally, Hokky put his pen to a final sheet of paper. "I want to take you to the western part of the country tomorrow afternoon. Tell no one where you are going. I think it best you tell your wife you are going to Prague to appeal your case. We will cross the border at an obscure border crossing and you will be hidden in my car. My diplomatic immunity will prevent them from searching the car at the border." Domokos lifted his tear-filled eyes from the sheet of paper and nodded.

  Karola Aykler and Domokos Aykler in the vineyard, circa 1937.

  Hokky flung the final page into the fire and, as they watched their conversation go up in flames, erasing the evidence of their discussion, both men sat in silence as the edges of the pages curled up and were sucked into the fire. When Karola came into the room with a tray of tea and pastries, she immediately sensed that something wasn't right. The radio was blaring and the fire was ablaze, even though it wasn't cold. Before she had even put the tray down, the senator stood up, bowed from the waist, and told Karola his wife sent her love. He shook hands with Domokos and said good night to both of them. Without another word, he left the house.

  Karola knelt at her husband's chair and put her head on his lap. Domokos took his wife's hand, kissed it, and helped her up. Then he led her out of the parlour and out onto the back terrace where they both sat down on a bench. He closed his eyes, enjoying the cool, autumn air of home. There is just enough of a breeze, Domokos thought, so that we can talk freely. He put his lips into her hair and whispered to her. "Our friend fears for my safety. He thinks the Czechs will probably re-arrest me in a few days. I must go away tomorrow." Even with just the soft glow of moonlight casting light on her face, Domokos could see the look of utter desolation on his wife's face. "We will be together soon, my darling. I promise you that." Karola took a breath, ready with the next question. "It's best you don't know where I am going," Domokos continued, cutting her off. "I will send for you and the children as soon as I am safe. Should anyone ask you, I've gone to Prague to appeal my sentence."

  The next day he was gone and Karola Aykler was again left alone to manage the vineyards and raise her children.

  chapter 6 | early march 1939

  THE FIRST GREYS OF dawn spread slowly into the hills and valleys of the region, followed by streaks of magenta as the first rays of the sun pushed their way into the sky from the east. Officially on a covert military operation, the soldiers were in civilian clothing. They had been out all night surreptitiously criss-crossing the border region with Czechoslovakia. Scouts moved unnoticed on bicycles and mopeds, traversing with ease between villages and towns, in many locations, aided by the local population. Their mission was to destabilize the border region, but the border was porous by then. Part of the region had already been re-annexed to Hungary as part of the First Vienna Accords.

  The men were exhausted but elated. They could hardly wait to report to their commanding officer. "The border guards are gone, sir," one of the five announced, saluting, barely able to contain his excitement. "The Czechs have withdrawn from the region."

  Domokos Aykler, the commander of this small detachment, saluted back and smiled. He had been notified some days earlier by top-secret military messenger that March 15, 1939 would be the fateful day when the rest of Karpatalja, including Nagyszollos, would be reoccupied by the Hungarian military. He was very well aware that on the same day less than one hundred years ago, in 1848, the Hungarians, led by Lajos Kossuth, declared their independence from the Hapsburgs. The day had enormous historical significance for Hungarians. It was an amazing coincidence that the liberation of their hometown and district was to take place on the same day!

  One week before this military action, his men had reported little resistance in the district and Domokos calculated that there was minimal risk of danger to his family. He sent for his wife and son, Bela (the other children were away at school). Domokos wanted his loved ones by his side as the Hungarians reoccupied the region.

  On March 15, 1939, the German army occupied Bohemia and Moravia, the two western provinces of Czechoslovakia. As soon as they did, Slovakia ceded from Czechoslovakia and created its own independent, fascist state under the protection of the Third Reich. That same day, the Hungarian army reoccupied Nagyszollos and, within three days, it took all of Karpatalja without much resistance.

  Following behind the tanks and lines of infantrymen that rolled into Nagyszollos, Domokos sat in front of a black Tatra sedan with his wife and son in the back seat. The main street, Verboczy ut, was lined on both sides with ecstatic, cheering crowds. Women were dashing in among the troops, thrusting red and white carnations into their hands and lapel buttons, planting random kisses of welcome on the cheeks of soldiers. Many people along the route had tears of joy in their eyes.

  Bela felt he would burst with pride. His father was the commander of the troops marching into Nagyszollos, and he, Bela, was sitting in the back seat of the command vehicle! The red, white, and green Hungarian flags that had been forbidden until then were popping up everywhere in windows and doorways and flying from balconies and rooftops. Each time the familiar tricolour was pushed through a second-storey window of a house or shop window, Bela would yell, "Look, Father, another flag! And another. Look, Mother! It's unbelievable!"

  Along with the thousands of residents lining the streets that day was Suti Weisz who, together with his father, Vilmos, stood proudly waving a red, white, and green tricolour and yelling patriotic slogans. "Our people are back," he chanted. "We are part of Hungary again!"

  Karola, dressed in an elegant beige linen suit with matching hat, watched her excited son and couldn't stop the tears of joy from streaming down her face. She was so proud of Domokos. She could barely believe that her husband was home again, that there were no more borders to contend with, no more searches, no more intimidations. They would no longer be made to feel like second-class citizens in their own homes.

  WITHIN TWO MONTHS, the government of Hungary appointed five parliamentarians, including Karoly Hokky, who had formerly represented the region in the Prague parliament, and they were invested and welcomed into the parliament in Budapest. Baron Zsigmond Perenyi was appointed governor of the region. The Weisz family was particularly proud when they learned the news.

  Karola Aykler felt as if she were living in a state of euphoria. For so many years they had been living in perpetual fear of and intimidation by the authorities. Now she could finally breathe. The timing of the political changes was a godsend for the family economically. They had mortgaged the house, the businesses, and the vineyards to stay afloat and if they had remained part of Czechoslovakia, they would have eventually lost everything. Now, new markets were opening up for Hungary. The distillery was working in two shifts to keep up with the new demand for pear, peach, and plum brandy. Wine merchants came in a steady stream to taste and order wine from Nagyszollos; for most, the Spolarich-Aykler winery was the first stop on their visit.

  Because they were an influential family that had obviously suffered as ethnic Hungarians under the Czech regime, they were rewarded for their loyalty in economic benefits. The family received lucrative state contracts and concessions. In addition, the Hungarians needed reliable local individuals to keep critical businesses working well. Both Istvan and Tibor, who now had engineering degrees, were awarded businesses.

  Istvan and his partner, Bela Friedmann Farago, were appointed managers of Futura, the largest grain wholesaler and distribution centre in the region.

  Tibor and his partner, Jaszli Berliner, operated
another state-controlled business in town. It was basically an administrative centre where the paperwork was filled out for residents wishing to requisition radio parts, rubber products, and yeast products. Once the administrative paperwork was completed and approved, the purchased items were delivered from distribution centres off-site.

  Tibor and Istvan were very close. In Tibor's eyes, Istvan was worldly. In addition to politics and history, Tibor felt he could discuss anything with his older brother. He often spoke to Istvan about the gentleman's code of ethics, behaviour, and dress. Most importantly, his older brother coached him on how to court women. When Tibor graduated, Istvan took him to Kassa and introduced him to a voluptuous blonde named Mancika, who taught Tibor the secrets of making love to a woman. Tibor had never seen such sexy long legs. He was mesmerized by her perfectly sculpted breasts, overwhelmed by her sexual prowess, and simply wanted to stay in her arms forever. Tibor returned several more times without telling his brother. Istvan finally enlightened him as to what a prostitute does and explained to Tibor that making a habit of visiting a brothel is not something that a gentleman should cultivate.

  Still, Tibor was eternally grateful to Istvan for enlightening him about the realities of life. His experience with Mancika gave him a real self-confidence around women and he realized he enjoyed their company to a much greater degree than the company of men. Now that Istvan was married and both brothers had steady incomes, Tibor accompanied Istvan to Budapest as often as they could on business and shopping trips. They set up meetings with prospective business clients and found time to visit the finest tailor shops where they ordered stylish custom-made suits and shirts. Tibor made it a habit to get his hair cut and styled at a barber in Budapest. He had begun to notice that the barbers in Nagyszollos provided the same uniform haircut for everyone. He even treated himself to the luxury of a manicure.

  As his experience of the world grew, Tibor cultivated a real passion for music. There were so many enthralling sounds of jazz and big-band swing coming out of the United States: Tommy Dorsey and his Orchestra, Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, and Glenn Miller. He absolutely had to have the newest recordings by singers such as Bing Crosby and such sultry female vocalists as Ella Fitzgerald and Marlene Dietrich. With each trip to Budapest, he expanded his record collection. In school, he had been taught the basic steps of ballroom dancing and now, as an adult, Tibor hired a dance instructor to help him become adept at dancing to big-band swing, the tango, and the cha-cha.

  The cafés of Budapest were overflowing with patrons eager to eat and drink until the small hours of the morning. Music and laughter spilled out onto the corso of the Danube that was lined with cafés and restaurants night after night. The citizens were apparently oblivious or didn't want to hear about the war that seemed to be just beyond Hungary's borders.

  For Tibor, such outings to Budapest meant the ultimate escape and each time he returned to their sleepy provincial town, he became determined to bring back a bit of the sophistication and culture of the capital. He joined a cultural group that regularly invited visiting acting troupes to Karpatalja, insisting that these tours include Nagyszollos and providing the financial incentives to make this happen. Following performances at the Casino, Tibor would invite the troupe back to the house up in the vineyard for late-night parties. Eventually, Tibor Schroeder earned a reputation as an incredibly attentive and generous host to the visiting artists. He, in turn, prided himself on his friendship with some of the more famous actors and actresses of the time.

  To Istvan and Tibor, it was inconsequential that their business partners were Jewish. Istvan and Bela Farago Friedmann had served together in the Rongyos Garda and Istvan could think of no one else who would be a better partner than his friend and comrade-in-arms. Jaszli was Tibor's friend and an integral part of the business. But events that affected Karpatalja were taking place at an incredible pace - faster than most residents could absorb. When the second anti-Jewish legislation was enacted in May, 1939 limiting Jewish ownership of businesses, nothing changed in the day-to-day operations, profit distribution, or ownership of their businesses. But, just in case proof of the non-Jewish ownership of the business was required, all the necessary superficial documents were prepared and ready.

  The reintegration of the region into Hungary also brought many other changes. Hungary now shared a common border with Poland, a cause for celebration as Hungarians had always cherished their close relationship with the Polish people. Throughout history, Poles and Hungarians had, at times, shared common kings and queens and they had been on the same side through many tumultuous upheavals and wars. The celebrations of this mutual border were widespread and heartfelt since many of the region's families had Polish ancestry and relatives.

  Yet in September 1939, only a few months after Karpatalja became part of Hungary again, the German blitzkrieg invaded Poland from the west while the Russians invaded from the east, crushing the army of the country and scattering its people. Over one hundred thousand Poles fled south into Hungary. Some loaded themselves onto horse-drawn carriages while others came in trucks. But most of them came on foot, often carrying nothing but the children in their arms or on their backs, many of them still in shock caused by the brutality of the invasion they had witnessed. Starved and parched from days of walking, the devastated stragglers came to the door with empty stares.

  In many regions of Karpatalja, the residents lined the streets in sympathy, hoping to offer solace through demonstrating solidarity, offering bread, water, and whatever they could. The procession of dazed refugees continued for weeks. It was seemingly never-ending. The municipal governments of the main cities in Karpatalja (Ungvar, Kassa, and Nagyszollos) voted to set aside resources for the accommodation and food for the refugees. Karola ordered cartfuls of grapes and freshly baked bread to be sent to the road leading through town. She sent the overseer and her own young children, Picke and Bela, to distribute the food to the refugees as they walked by. Many other residents offered similar acts of kindness. The Poles slept by the roadside and continued their journey aimlessly south, trying to get as far away from the fighting as possible.

  At the same time, the refugees raised thorny questions that Hungarians were not prepared to deal with. How could a regime that had promised to undo the injustices of the Treaty of Trianon destroy the homeland of their best-loved neighbour? Hungary hadn't yet declared war on anyone, yet the consequences of war were thrusting themselves upon the consciousness of the Hungarian people.

  It broke Tibor's heart to watch the Polish refugees as they came through Nagyszollos. He felt it was an ominous sign of things to come. Although he came from a family with a strong military tradition, his feelings toward all things military and to war itself secretly filled him with dread. The only person with whom he could share these feelings was his older brother, Istvan.

  Istvan had served in the Czech army and presented a view of the Czechs that was completely different from what the local populace knew of them. Istvan believed that the Czechs were more adept administrators and much more clever at the game of politics than the Hungarians were.

  "We lived in a democracy in Czechoslovakia," asserted Istvan. "They had to listen to our grievances in Prague, whether they liked us or not. I'm not so sure they will be listening to us in Budapest now that we are part of Hungary again."

  Following the invasion of Poland, Britain and France declared war on Germany. Still the German victories spread. They took Norway, Denmark, Belgium, and the Netherlands in May. By June 1940, German troops were marching down the Champs-Elysées. Paris had fallen.

  As these unbelievable events occurred, Tibor looked to his older brother for direction and guidance. They spent hours discussing the news of the day, the disastrous war just beyond their borders, the poverty of the hard-working Rusyns in their community, and the increasing number of discriminatory laws against their Jewish neighbours. In general, their homeland was in a sad state of affairs.

  In August 1940, the Second Vienna A
ward resulted in more territorial revision. Northern Transylvania (Erdely) and the Szekely region were regained from Romania. The newsreels showed the wildly joyous welcoming crowds who offered the soldiers flowers with tears of joy and celebrated for days in the villages and towns of northern Transylvania.

  The celebrations were short-lived. On June 22, 1941, Germany launched its attack on the Soviet Union. A few days later, on June 26, unmarked planes bombed the city of Kassa. Hungary reacted by declaring war on the Soviet Union, officially joining the war.

  chapter 7 | summer 1941

  SUTI HAD BECOME WHOLLY focussed on the little bee that had somehow wound its way into the classroom. Every once in a while, a stern buzzing noise emanated from the creature's tiny wings as it pushed itself away from the wall only to bounce back a short distance later. With each attempt to find an exit to freedom, the circles it made became smaller in length and shorter in distance and its buzzing noise diminished. Suti watched it anxiously, realizing that it had probably been trapped inside for some time now.

  He was mesmerized by the bee's struggle despite the fact that his beloved teacher, Victor Ortutay, was telling them a tale - "The Legend of the White Stag" - that never failed to fascinate him. Suti's mother had read the story of how the Magyar tribes arrived at the Carpathian Basin to him many times and he knew it by heart. He listened with one ear as his teacher told the class that, while hunting, the two brothers, Hunor and Magyar, had come across a rare white stag so majestic and stunning that they became determined to follow it. Taking their wives, families, and their entire tribe with them, they followed the amazing stag for days that stretched into weeks. Each time they got close enough to shoot it with their bows and arrows, the stag mysteriously melted away into the forest. Finally, after weeks of pursuit, the stag led them to a land of plenty where the forests were full of wildlife and game and the crystal-pure waterfalls and rivers teemed with fish.