“They (the Hungarian police) came and interrogated us, they wanted to know where my father had gone. We told them we didn’t know. We didn’t want to talk about with whom he’d left. We just said he had to leave because of his work. They asked why my mother didn’t respond to their questions. My mother didn’t speak Hungarian. Only us, the children did speak Hungarian. They didn’t speak German neither Czech. So they started to yell at her: “You dirty Czech-Jewish who…” As children we hadn’t heard this word at home. When we asked my mother said it’s a very ugly word, that it means the scum of the earth for the Jews. So we knew it’s a very ugly word and that they called our mother by this word. So my brother stepped in and told them not to insult our mother. He said: “My mother is an honest woman. Don’t call us names because we were born Jews in the same way as you were born Hungarians and we’re not calling you names either.” He said this very politely but vigorously and with his fists clutched. He was a fourteen-year old boy. They beat him up so bad he fell unconscious there.”
“I stayed in the corridor of the train and next to me stood a German soldier who started to flirt with me. I didn’t want to talk to him at all. He asked why I wouldn’t talk to him and I said it was because I hated him, that I was Jewish. The very moment I wished I could cut my tongue out.” He looked at me and said: “We like about you that you are Jewish girls”. Then he gave me this sad look and said: “Do you really think I like being in this war? If I refused to go to war, they would shoot me, just like they shoot you, the Jews. I haven’t got anything against you but we have to obey the authorities.” I really liked this as it made me see that not all Germans are alike.”
“We were called up to interrogations all the time. They were beating us up so we were bleeding constantly. Once when my mother got beaten so much her head was all blue, I tried to intervene like my brother on that other day: “Don’t beat my mother and don’t call her the ugly words.” I clutched my fists against them. Well they beat me up like hell. I fell unconscious. I was weak and undernourished. So they took me like a kitty and threw me out.”
“One mason found me. He said: “that’s the young girl from the editor”. He took me to his flat. You haven’t seen a flat like that. It was a single room, with a muddy floor, one small window and one bed. His five children slept on straw. This Štěpán Geletej took me there and told his wife: “treat her, it’s the young Ostereicher.” She treated me with burdocks. She washed me, enchanted me in Ruthenian and pitied me. She gave me a glass of milk and a piece of maize flour – that was all they had. These poor people had a better heart than the rich. It’s like this till today.”
“In the transport a women had an early birth. There was blood squirting everywhere. I was only fifteen. I’d never seen anything like this before. Somebody told me to go and ask for help as I was the only one who spoke Hungarian in the transport. We couldn’t help her with the birth as our hands were dirty. We didn’t have any water, we were dirty, we slept standing. So I went. We reeked. These days we were the dirty and smelly Jews. I’d like to see any Arian living under such circumstances for three days. Forty people in a cattle car, peeing, secreting and throwing away the excrements on a piece of paper through the bars. They would then stick to the bars and all this in a sultry heat of over thirty degrees Celsius. We didn’t even smell it anymore. That’s how much we were dazed by the smell. So he kicked me away (a German soldier) and said: “get away you smelly Jew!” I fell on my bony buttocks. I was fifteen and only weighted twenty five kilos! I was skin and bones. So I banged my butt and I gave him this look and said: “You are just a human, too”. That was fateful for me. He started to kick and beat me till I fell unconscious. I didn’t wake up anymore. Luckily there was a medic.”
Dita Elena Kalmárová was born on May 13, 1926, in Olomouc. Since her childhood, however, she lived in Carpathian Ruthenia. In 1939 the Fascists came. After ruthless interrogations that she and her mother were subjected to at the Hungarian alien police they both fled to the mountains where they joined the local resistance organization. Afterwards she by chance avoided being deported to the extermination camp Kamenec-Podolsk. In 1943 she got to Palestine where she cared for wounded soldiers till the end of the war. After the war she lived with her husband in Nitra in Slovakia. After 1948 they were expelled from their own house. She‘s never joined the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia (KSČ). She died in 2005 in Prague.
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!
