November 21, 1944. Notes from my diary: "Village of Hét. Supper and lodging at Mr. György Lökös. I am sick."
It was getting dark after we passed the first town after Putnok. We did not want to go any further. There was a long journey ahead. The wall of the former parish hall had become the weighing-in station. Soldiers who arrived by train were standing around. The chef was giving out food. We had been given rations and some supplies at the Putnok station, but we accepted their hospitality. While we were standing in line for the handouts, someone came over to us and said "You should never stand in line in the dark. Where do you want to go? Come with me. Be my guest. My wife is preparing supper. You can sleep at my house."
"Sometimes miracles happen" I tell Varga loud enough so that the good man should hear. Meanwhile we are guided along in the dark
"Well we did have some very rough times" said the old man. "Everyone has a cross to bear. My only son died a hero at the River Don. He was twenty-one years old. We know what war is. We try to help whenever we can. Come along. This is my house."
He leads us to a spacious room. There is a big table in the middle covered with a table cloth. The room overlooks a veranda and porch. His wife greets us as it we were family she had not seen for a long time. She showed us her son's room, which looks out on to the street. We see a framed life-sized photo of the soldier son.
"We will be eating right away. I'll set the table." There were two girls already seated. The older one, Piroska, must have been about fourteen and seemed rather shy. But Etel was quite the opposite jabbering away. She said that she was in the third grade. We sat down and joined them.
It has been such a long time since I had sat at a table like this. When did I last sit on a chair? Well, two months ago. Quite extraordinary.
In the twenty-second of April, an official telegram arrived at he military headquarters. Permission had been requested for me to attend my step father's, Dr. Emil Bíró's3.1 funeral on the following day. The company was at Hajdúhadház. I was given a three-day pass. I traveled overnight via Nagyvárad. The funeral was set for 8.3Oam. I went straight to the cemetery from the station. My wife, my mother, my sister and relatives were all there. This was my last time with my Éva. She only stayed at our home until the end of the month. Troubled times were ahead.
After the funeral, I sent a wire requesting an additional three days. The next day permission was granted. Our life together was extended by three days. Oh we did not want to - we must not be torn apart. But there was no hope. After three days I had to say goodbye to my precious world...
Our hostess really treated us - rich greasy foods...which my stomach was no longer accustomed to. Little Etel sat across from me and she kept the conversation going. Her mother was proud of her. She came first in her class.
"What are you going to be when you grow up?" I asked.
"Well, perhaps an actress or maybe a teacher" was her reply. In the meanwhile, our hostess kept urging us to eat. "Please make yourself at home...eat...eat..."
Wine was served and we became quite chatty.
Then I asked Etel : "Can you tell me the name of the hill behind us?" (I had to make plans for the next day.)
"I don't know the name, but behind it is Királd."
"Királd?" asks Varga and jumps up as if a pin had been stuck into his rear end. "My sister-in-law from Békés has relatives there - retired miner in the community. Sir" - Varga was now back in time. He was in the artillery during the air raids when I enlisted in Erdély (Transylvania) on August 31, 1940. - "Please let me go for one day."
"Come on" I said "from now on we stick together. I'll go with you its not far." "Great! - Yippee!" - shouted Varga.
We got up from the table. Etel showed me the family's pride and joy the beautifully bound album of Pest's Newspapers for that year and suggested that I take it to my room to read before going to sleep. If I hadn't been careful, I would have let out a shout too. The little darling presented me with a guide and an update on the news, which would enable me to plan the next stage. There were maps of all the counties and districts in detail. There will be no sleep for me tonight. I will work out plans for our trek.
There was no sleeping - not because I was mapping our journey, but because of the feast. I was on the run all night long. "The Place" was quite away off - near the chicken coop. Then I did a scandalous deed. I tore out the maps that we would need for our journey. Next day we set out before noon.