"We were not in Brezno for a long time, maybe a week. But we already consciously wanted to get somewhere to finally recover in some way, because the survival with everything that happened during that period was roughly half a year... We got to Polhora and stayed there thanks to my mother with one non-Jewish family, because who else would help us. Mom said there that she was good at sewing and that she would help them. And for the work he will do for the family we stopped at, they will allow us to have fun. I would say that we were very burdened by the life we lived in that hut for half a year. Because we actually survived in one outfit. We must have been terribly impoverished and the only thing we dreamed about during all that time in that hut was to be able to eat. We were simply at the end of our strength. Because when a person is hungry and has no prospect of being able to eat in the near future, it was something terrible. This means that we were not only physically but also mentally at the end of our strength. So the fact that we got out of the Abyss under the circumstances we experienced there was an oasis of peace and tranquility for us, that we got to that family who saw how ruined we were and helped us a lot."
"The evening before we left, my uncle told my mother, that is, my sister-in-law, that he does not take responsibility because he does not know how we will cross the line. That he doesn't take responsibility for us. That was clearly stated. And then we had such a private meeting, with Bozena and with my mother: we will not be dependent on our uncle's help. Although the Jewish religion says that uncles are obliged to take care of the wife and children, according to Jewish tradition. Which my uncle made it clear that he couldn't keep it. He is not sure if he will be able to save his family. We then agreed with my mother and my sister, let them go their own way, but we will follow their steps for five minutes and find the way between the war line. Which is what happened."
"Our journey through those mountains, we didn't always run somewhere, we stayed somewhere and slept. And I also know that, since we needed to eat, my father and probably my uncle butchered one horse. The meat was cleaned and we started roasting the horse meat on the fire. But what didn't happen. It was very cloudy, foggy, almost dark. Now it started to get a little clearer and we discovered with horror that some soldiers were coming down the hill opposite. And we didn't know who it was. That is, whether they are good soldiers or bad soldiers. Well, when the fog cleared, we found out with horror that they were German soldiers. So we left the horse to roast, and we ran on. We didn't even eat. And there we buried ourselves above another dwarf pine, that was under the Pomegranate. There we endured everything that came, that is, when the Germans came for us. After all, we could be seen: they were on one hill, we were on the other. So you could see well from hill to hill when there were no clouds. Whether we wanted to or not, we had to bury ourselves even deeper under that dwarf pine. And we survived it there. We were stuck under that dwarf pine for at least three days. And we also had to eat. When we ran to those mountains, among other things, we had ointment, and that's what our parents confessed. And we ate only ointment for these three days. To stay alive. Because we were afraid to climb out, because we didn't know where the Germans had gone."
"Since I was the president of the ROH, for example, I had such a problem: when Palach burned down, there was still such an atmosphere in Czechoslovakia that most people did not just agree with it, but showed solidarity. However, even the president of the republic walked in that funeral. And one ROH member asked if we would pay for her trip to Palach's funeral. So I say, 'Of course.' And so it happened. And then my ROH secretary came to me, acting as my secretary: 'We're going to have inconveniences.' I say: 'Please bring me the notebook.'She brought me the notebook, I tore it up. 'Listen, we don't have a minute anymore, we don't have a problem anymore.'(Laughter) So I dealt with such delicate things in such a way."
Jozef Weiss was born on September 1, 1933 into a non-religious Jewish family on a farm near Topoľčany. In September 1941, the father was ordered to build a concentration camp in Nováky, and in the spring of 1942 the whole family joined him. In Nováky, they survived deportations to concentration camps and after the outbreak of SNP, together with their relatives, they went to Banská Bystrica. After suppressing the rebellion, the mother wanted to follow her brother and his family to the mountains. There they survived the German encirclement for three days, buried deep in the dwarf pine. Subsequently, they hid in a cabin in the woods near Nemecká. After helping the partisans, father fell ill and succumbed to the disease a few days later. With his mother and sister, they managed to get to the liberated territory in Brezno and from there to Polhora, where they recovered after the hardships they had endured. They returned to Topoľčany, Jozef started going to school again, spent his free time in Hašomer Hacair and was preparing to move to Israel. In February 1949, his dream came true and after landing in the promised land, he and the boys went to Kibbutz Kfar Masaryk. After two years, at the request of his mother and sisters, he managed to postpone his military service and in the spring of 1952 he visited Czechoslovakia. Immediately after his arrival, he found out that he had made the wrong decision and that he would no longer be able to get to Israel. At first he worked as a laborer, after two years of military service he stayed in the army for a short time until his sisters arranged for him a position at the Smena publishing house. He completed his high school diploma remotely and studied journalism. He tried his best to avoid membership in the Communist Party, which is why he was involved in ROH. He left the post in 1970 at the price of the Communist Party sending him to study Marxism-Leninism. During the reign of Vladimír Mečiar, in 1993 he joined the management and editors of Smena, who left the editorial office in protest against the dismissal of the editor-in-chief and founded SME. Before long, he decided to help the Jewish community in Slovakia and for years held the position of director of the office of the Central Union of Jewish Religious Communities. He was responsible for signing an agreement with the Slovak government on partial compensation for Jewish victims of the Holocaust in Slovakia in 2002. Jozef Weiss died on April 21, 2024.
Hrdinové 20. století odcházejí. Nesmíme zapomenout. Dokumentujeme a vyprávíme jejich příběhy. Záleží vám na odkazu minulých generací, na občanských postojích, demokracii a vzdělávání? Pomozte nám!
