Judith Present

A Rainbow of Jews

“We Were the Survivors”

Narrator: A pack of wolves were dying of hunger from a long cold winter, their pack leader comforted the young wolves with promises of a beautiful spring to come. But one young wolf had enough cold and hunger and decided to live amongst men, because he thought, the important thing was to stay alive. And in time he forgot he was ever a wolf. Then one day many years later as he is out hunting with his master, and running to catch the master’s prey, he sees it’s the old leader of the pack. He falls silent, shamed, but the old wolf says, “I do not mind dying, I am happy to die as a wolf where you on the other hand belong to neither world of wolf nor man. Hunger comes and hunger goes, but dignity once lost never returns.

Spring 1945

We could hear a commotion; we all looked at each other and wondered; it wasn’t that long ago the Germans left, destroying evidence we ever existed, our names to be forever forgotten.  Could it be the Americans?

A man with a big green coat and hat walked in weaving he’s way between the bunks trying to shake our hands, while we stared at him with frightened eyes, but he smiled at us just the same. “Who speaks Russian?” Russian, speaks Russian?”  He shouted.

Kowalski spoke a little Russian. He raised his hand. “I do sir.”

“Well then tell them the German’s are gone and the Russians are here.  We have won the war!”

“Won the war, Kowalski,” yelled out. The Russians have won the War!”

“Make sure this isn’t a trick,” Bauman told him.

Then we heard more commotion and ran outside to look as Russians on horseback attached a rope to the fence and pulled it down. And our tears fell down with it.  Kowalski and I ran back to the bunks to carry those who no longer could walk so they could see what was going on.     

Trucks were pulling in, but we didn’t know why, yet we lined up not even know where they would take us.  Then like a desert caravan we drove down the dirt road leaving Auschwitz; away from the long hours of work meant to kill us, to starve us and if that would not work, to gas us. We were the survivors. 

We came on trains from different countries all over Europe and told we had to go back to the countries we came from. How would I get back to Hungary?   Would Raphael Trento get back to Italy and Schmehl Bauman return to Germany?  The Russians had no answers for us since most of the rails couldn’t go the entire way to any destination. But they told us Russian soldiers must come first to get back to their loved ones. So once again we boarded trains not knowing where we were going, but with less fear then when we arrived in trainloads to Auschwitz, for we now truly believed the war was over.  No one had papers, but they didn’t’ expect us to have them anymore; all we had to do was tell them what country we wanted to go to.

One train with six cars left Poland for Russia. We had no warm clothes, but spring was beginning to melt the snows and the train chugged up and down hills till the tracks were gone.  While they added more tracks trying to connect with other broken connections to continue on to Russia, we stayed in bombed out government buildings.  Even if we didn’t know each other’s languages we would sing or whistle old tunes from our countries and the Jews that didn’t even speak Yiddish knew the same tunes.    And though we laughed and sang there was always the faces of loved ones we would never see again. Nor did we know what we would find when we finally did get back to our countries.  So, we mourned and sang and tried to go on.

From Poland we went on to Belarus where the Russians had to bargain with the government to take Jews back.  On we continued to Lithuania where they hated the Russians as much as the Jews and several men didn’t want to get off the train.  And we could see that even with the war over the Jews were still not welcomed anywhere.   In Latvia and Estonia there were no incidents. Finland, though they didn’t like the Russians but were happy to take back their own Jews.

Our first stop in Russia was at St. Petersburg.  At each stop more Russians got off the train heading home and we quickly found seats to lie down on.   Some of the Russians came back to the train with bread for us and we cheered them and wished them and their families well. Oh, how human we felt where once we were sheep.  Yet as I looked around, we were still emaciated, some still in stripped pajamas, some barefooted, some with hats pilfered from the Russians to keep their ears from freezing, but we were alive; we were the survivors.  Yes, we survived, but we could not forget what we saw, and it would stay with us forever.

 The train continued on to Moscow, Kostroma, Kirov, Samara, and Saratov, then made its way into Volgograd and Georgia and into Turkey, where the Turkish Jews got off and there were many; now on to Greece, Bulgaria, Romania and finally my Hungary.

At Romania they tried to find out where everyone was going. Those going to Austria, Serbia, Croatia would travel around Hungary, while the Hungarians would take a train going to Budapest and from there who knew. I was going to Nograd on the northern part of the country outside of Czechoslovakia. For eight days I only ate bread and soup and at each stop I looked for handouts to sustain myself.   Slowly the train wobbled along the makeshift tracks, through Hungarian woods. I always loved the sun shining when spring was in the air; it made the small flowers along the forest ground sparkle like stars in a dark blue sky.   

I arrived in Nograd only to find it quite different from the last time I was there.  German soldiers were now the ones hauling the rocks, prisoners of a lost cause. They looked at me, while I looked back at them. I knew it was apparent where I came from; I was the Jew who refused to die; now the table was turned. But then that wasn’t true either.

Nothing was left of my home only the neighbor who turned us in. Anna Szendrey was once a friend of my wife, who became fearful and who hid behind her curtains when they invaded our house with guns and boots, scaring the children. She listened to the children’s screams and I hoped when I looked up at her that day of horrors, she would have nightmares the rest of her life.  Yet she was also a survivor. Once again, she peered through her curtain at me, but this time I waved at her and she quickly let the curtain fall.

Further down the street the café was still open, and I walked to the back to see if they might give me something to eat.  Leo Sandor was in the kitchen hosing down the dishes. I stood in the doorway till he looked up. He was startled to see me.

“Gabor!” I do not believe my eyes. Is it really you Gabor?” He wiped his hands on his apron and pulled out a chair.  “Please sit down. Let me get you something to eat. When did you get back? What about the others?  We got little news around here, so once you left, we didn’t know where you were.”

“I am here from Auschwitz.”

“What is Auschwitz?”

It is where they took us. They killed Micha, Lousander, Zendak, and Banick, and I was used to move rocks for no reason whatsoever.

His mouth fell open. “Surely this is not true?”

“It is very true Sandor, very true indeed.  Do you mean to tell me those who turned us in did not know where we were going or what they would be doing to us?”

“I pray to the heavenly saints; this is a lie.”

“It is not. Don’t you understand they wanted to exterminate us, eliminate us from the face of the earth? We went from being Hungarian citizens to pariahs. Remember Sandor I was a lawyer now look at me.”

Sandor sat down. “So, this is true?”

“True enough,” I told him. “Now where is that food you were talking about?”

He started to serve me from his own rations, then sat and watched each morsel go into my mouth while he shook his head in disbelief at what I had told him. I was ravenous and food was all I could think of, but I also knew Sandor had turned Jews in, at least now he knew where they went.

“Where are you going from here?” he asked me. But I didn’t know the answer.

“It is a good spring in the air Sandor, if I must, I will sleep under the stars. After lying on straw for years, the forest floor would be a delight. To breath in earths musty smell would be heaven.”  But I don’t’ think he could even begin to perceive what I was talking about or what I had been through. I lifted my shirtsleeve and showed him my number. “This is my number Sandor; this is what I became; an animal to be branded. I left him with his mouth open and lots to think about.

A government building was set up for those returning home. Metal beds against dark green walls housed many, not all Jews, some political prisoners, and a few homosexuals. I looked around to see whom I might know…Paulus Benedek whose little son Abrek went to school with Leasounder was sitting on a corner bed. I had not seen Paulus since we were taken away.

“Paulus are you here alone?”

“Gabor!” She stood up and put her arms around me. “Gabor, it is so good to see you.”

“I am alone too,” I told her, and we understood each other.

“Where will you go from here, Gabor?” She asked with concern.

“Tonight, I will be here, tomorrow who knows.” Then I lied myself down on her bed and fell into a deep sleep.

When I awoke, Paulus was staring at me and I thought I was finally in Heaven.  “Is there something wrong that you would want to sit and look at an old gaunt man.”

She leaned towards me and I thought she was going to kiss me.... oh yes, a kiss, but it was not to be.

“Gabor,” she said, there has been some talk of…remember the Zionists?

“Yes,”

“Going to Palestine,”

I was going to open my mouth, but she put her hand over it.

“There are no countries that want us; to take us again, we have already caused too many problems for them. But listen, this is just talk now, but I believe soon the idea will be in every Jew’s heart. They all tried to kill us; do not think it was just the Germans. There are still Pogrom’s in Poland even after liberation.  They are all sorry so many of us are still alive. If they don’t want us, we should have a place of our own.  

“You believe this?” I asked her.

“It is my hope and I need hope. I need a cause, a place and a reason to go on.”

“It is very good to know what you need. For me, I don’t know what I need, maybe I need to kill Germans, is that a need? Because Paulus I am angry, very angry and I can kill now.”

“Palestine will need angry men like you.  That could be you Gabor, you could be part of it all.”  She placed my head in her lap; her thighs were soft, and I breathed in her smell.

“Maybe I can dream again,” I told her, “I did not have one dream when I was in Auschwitz, for there was nothing to dream for. But this Palestine might just be something…” and her stroking my hair put me into a great slumber I had not had in years.

I am a playwright, actress and director whose theatre company PRESENTARTS brings historical characters to Museums, Historical Societies, Organizations, and Churches for entertainment and fundraisers. But it is the research that I like the best, as I try to find something in my characters that most people don’t know. I am also a fine art digital photographer and illustrator, which I also use for Theatre and Short Stories. My artist website is judithpresent.zenfolio.com