Our gendarmes on horseback escorted us to the fenced-in camp. We were lined up in the yard, awaiting our orders. After quite some time the infamous lieutenant colonel turned up. He began by yelling and shouting at us "You're garbage" and saying that he will certainly transfer us to the proper place as soon as possible. Our gendarmes were replaced by a pitiful bunch of soldiers, who treated us very kindly. They took us to our "dormitory" - a large barn - the best places were already taken, but everyone managed to find a cot. It was hard to tel1 the guards from the prisoners. They were a pathetic bunch longing to be back home. They lacked the courage to desert. Our buddies just hunged around. There was no way that they could get back to their squadron. They just gave up.
There were some sergeants in the troop. This was discouraging for the guards but offered a ray of hope for the hostages. We began to talk to each other and get acquainted with the ones already there and the new arrivals. We talked about the Russian oppression, our longing for peace and end the war. We wondered about the future, the new world to come. Just a couple of weeks and the Russians should be here!
The only difference between the prisoners and the guards was that the former were relieved of their guns and equipment - even their belts. Supervision was lax - without belts there was no risk of anyone trying to escape - the guards and their dogs outside would quickly take note. We were exhausted from our all day hike, but we were pleased to talk to our companions in misery. Next to my cot was Sergeant Molnár. He was tired of being confined-anxious to get out to visit a friend and have a drink or two. If I would only lend him my "spare" belt he could leave and be back by morning. His exit and re-entry would be no problem. I was obliging and let him have my belt. Next morning theme was no sign of him. At roll-call, it was apparent that someone was missing. A soldier squealed on me, saying that the one from the labour camp helped him and supplied him with the belt. What a great way to start the day! Not only had Molnár taken off with my belt, but I was accused of helping him break out. The orders were to go to the garrison's t headquarters for interrogation and was assigned to the work crew of the day. The job required carrying cauldrons to one of the houses in the village where the camp's kitchen was located. Our little procession is stopped by an officer and I am taken away for interrogation to another building. We enter a room where artillery officers with red collars are seated around a table. They are young. They hear me out and smile about the story of the "lent belt". It seemed plausible that I would not have parted with my belt, had I known that my new acquaintance, the sergeant Molnár, was not planning to return it to me. The case would have been closed, but the officer in charge reported that at 16 hours the previous day second lieutenant XY could not be located. No doubt they were referring to the officer we met coming to Feled. By now he must have reached the partisans. Of course I did not say anything, but I felt this was the right time to tell them about the atrocities the gendarmes in Királd subjected us to, that they forced us to come to Feled rather than let us return to the regiment. They were surprised. One of the young officers inquired about my military service prior to the labour camp period. There was some cross examination about when and where I had completed my service. I gave forth like clock work: 1931 to 1932 active service with anti-aircraft defence; 1938 gunner at the Citadel followed by an observation post at Kissvábhegy; then in 1939 on November 9 with the enlisted men in Kassa at the Pétervásár school; 1940 December munitions officer with the local firing squad. I was demobilized on August 31, the day the Transylvanians marched in. Then came a rather naive question: how did I get here? I wondered what was next tom Károly and me? I was told that we would be transferred to Losonc within twenty four hours by rail, after which further plans will be made. The interrogation ended in a rather compassionate tone. I brought the good news to Károly - "we will be leaving soon." A new arrival of prisoners was squeezed into our dormitory. What a racket! A sergeant major was brought to our section - János Curilla, from Csépány, close to Ózd. He was quite concerned what would happen. There was a sergeant major from the 2018 Regiment. He pretends to be well-informed and keeps asking for a clerk from the office...there is even a barber. At last, the time has come for the haircut we missed in Királd! The night was a short one. Roll call was at dawn. Everyone is up. We are anxious about what will be next. Besides our little troop there are twenty others getting ready. Outside the men are being lined up by the gendarmes bedecked with their hats adorned with the rooster feathers.
We are cold - it is dawn as we march along the winding streets of Feled. At last we reach the station with our gendarme escorts. We board the train for Fülek where we transfer on to the Losonc train. We see the wounded on Red Cross stretchers and we realize how close we must be to the front line. Russian soldiers appear with bandaged heads, arms in slings...