We have no idea where we are going. We are escorted by the cavalry.
This is going to be a very long march and we have been given the usual warning: "whoever tries to escape will be shot." Some of the gendarmes on horseback guarded the front, the others the rear. The guys who were familiar with this area thought we were heading toward Hangony. Our procession kept getting longer and longer. The ones behind the gendarmes just could not keep up. The gendarmes galloped back and tried to hurry them up. This gendarme cavalry was not the same corps that was with us overnight. They seemed more humane. The men who were lagging behind were brought to the front to set the pace. That is how I got to the front, right behind the gendarme on horseback. Károly stuck with me, and said:
"That man looks so familiar, he's probably from Békés" pointing to the gendarme in front of us.
The sergeant seemed friendly when I approached him. He broke the rules when he started to chat with me. Gendarme Szabó had been stationed in Szolnok, where he did his training. His family lives there. Now he lives in Békés and there were many people he knew even my colleague, the tough Dr. Lajos Telegdy, the Békés lawyer. The gendarme was so surprised. I got him so excited that he went back to tell his comrades.
Uncle Lajos was quite something. He was extremely meticulous about our cases, even to a simple amendment. . I inquired about Lajos' daughter, educated in Chamonix, who became Dr. Ferenc Heim's wife. Heim was a lawyer in Csaba for Almássy of Gerla and for the Count Wenckheim of Corva. In 1944 he was appointed prosecutor. This certainly impressed sergeant Szabó, though he never met or heard of Magdi or Feri Heim...But this broke the ice...and I soon learned that we were heading in the Hangony direction to Feled. We had about forty kilometers. We arrived in the evening...non stop - the gendarmes pushed us on up over the mountain and down the mountain. It was up, up, up. Our littled troop reached one of these rises, hill of boulders, shrubs and little fir trees. János Földes was behind us. He was not in uniform and he was looking for the right spot on the mountain where he could hide and just take off. He wanted to reach the partisans who were not too far away. It appeared to be a good plan, but a dangerous one. I tried to talk him out of it Földes was in his prime. He was experienced and sure of himself. He asked those in front of him and those behind to cover for him so that he could disappear and not be noticed. After a few kilometers when they call the roll, he would be far away. He was familiar with each tree and bush.
He stepped out of line as if to tie his boots. He waited a bit and at the right spot fell into the next line, round a corner he left the path and took off like a rabbit on all fours. The troop was just a few minutes from the top of the mountain.
Before we reached the top, one of the gendarmes took a head count. His comrade checked. Someone was missing, János Földes, the labourer from Ózd.
"He should not be far!" the gendarmes say and quickly they get organized. One gendarme, gun in hand, heaps us together. The other gallops away at great speed searching the other side of the mountain returning without results. Then they switch. The other one who was guarding us, sets out with his gun determined to find the escapee and ready to kill. Betore long János is found and tortured. He is tied to a horse, head all bloody, clothes torn. We were prepared for the worst - they would follow through with their warning: "whoever escapes will be shot"...fortunately this did not happen. Földes was brought to the front just behind us, handcuffed, dragging himself along. On we went, without food or water. It was dry and clear. Before dark, we approached the mountain ridge, both police at the rear, keeping watch, Károly and I at the front. In the distance, we could see a small settlement. Could this be our destination? Suddenly we see a speck approaching us - the first human being during this long hike. Who could this be - someone in uniform? We look back at the gendarmes, but they're not interested. They are riding side by side, chatting away. Károly and I step aside so that we can get a good look at the approaching officer. Officer? Soldier? Its hard to tel1 his rank as his overcoat hides the stripes. He is all equipped. A leather case for his map, an other for his binoculars. On his side a bulging leather bag and a furlined cap on his head. We are getting closer and we see his rank - second lieutenant.
"Where are you coming from?"
"From Ózd."
"Is it far? Have the Russians arrived?" - he is very excited. "Where are you off to?"
"To Feled".
"I don't envy you - the military camp with that bloodthirsty guy from Újvidék, the Lieutenant Colonel Hubay".
I shudder when I hear the name. It was 1941, the "unfriendly days" of Újvidék, where I completed my legal assignment - I hardly made it back. In the meantime the gendarmes caught up to us, chatting away with the officer.
I was in a state of shock. Gendarmes do not associate with officers. But later they did explain that officers can address gendarmes, who are not of the same rank. The gendarmes saluted the lieutenant colonel and we went our separate ways. By now we were quite close to Feled. We arrived exhausted. It was very late.