Keep in mind that I was only 4 and the memories are
vague and sometimes seem more like a dream than reality. Some recollections have
however hung on and by relaying them, may help form a better understanding of
what it must have been like in those turbulent times. When we departed, there
was Marshall Law, in other words, all movement was closely scrutinized by the
Russians and anyone travelling without authorization was usually shot on site.
My mother and I embarked on a 250 mile hike, carrying 2 suitcases, full of all
our worldly processions. Travel was restricted to night as we crossed fields and
open areas trying to avoid contact with others whenever possible.
On one particular morning we had to cross some railway tracks and as bad
luck would have it, we were on the wrong side, without cover and totally exposed
to an approaching troupe train. Both sides of the rail were fenced with barbed
wire and being a clumsy kid, I got entangled. My mother frantically yanked and
pulled at the snagged clothing. All the while the train was baring down on us,
adding to and already tense situation. Finally she freed me and we scurried down
the embankment and hid in the brush as the train passed us by. The train was
indeed packed to the rafters with soldiers and heavy war machines. I'm sure had
we been spotted, we would have been an amusing diversion for some bored soldier
needing some target practice. Close call number one.
I don't recall what we did for nourishment but I'm sure, it wasn't easy for mom to
find food for us to eat. What food we started out with, ran out after a few days
so we had to scrounge around for anything eatable. One early morning before the
sun rise, we approached a hay stack in the middle of an open field, hoping to
find some shelter and a place to rest for the day after a long nights trek. As
was the custom in those days, mom was wearing a white shawl on her head to keep
the hair covered and out of her face. Not a swift move considering we were
trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. While huddled in the hay stack we
were spotted by a Russian soldier who demanded that we come forth. Terrified, we
both lay motionless when the second demand was haulered at us. In perfect
Hungarian the soldier demanded we come out immediately or he'd open fire.
Realizing that surrender was our only option, my mother pleaded that she was
unarmed and that I was with her. We came out and approached the soldier who was
brandishing one of those circular cartridge type machine guns. As it turned out
the soldier wasn't Russian at all but was in fact a member of the resistance
dressed as a Russian Officer. No wonder he spoke perfect Hungarian and lucky for
us, he wasn't who we first thought. After relaying our story, the freedom
fighter gave us food and pointed the direction for the nearest border crossing.
He also told mom to discard the shawl as it was too easily spotted. Thank god,
for the second time fortune and good luck had been on our side.
We finally reached the Austrian border after something like 10 days travel. It was near 3:00 A.M. and all was still. The lights from a border crossing post could be seen off in the distance so we headed for it. My mother proceeded towards the building while I, being a small child without fear of animals approached the guard dog, a massive German Sheppard. For whatever reason the dog responded to me in a friendly way and before long I was petting it while it licked my face. Meanwhile my mother had reached the outpost an was about to knock on the door when she spotted a large red star, and immediately started backing away slowly. It was a Russian held border post and had our present been know, it's questionable that I would be here today, relaying this story. She came up to me and motioned for us to leave .....quietly. Not only did the dog not bark alerting the soldiers in the post of our presence but in fact led us across the border. To her dying day mom swore that had I not played with the dog, in effect keeping it quite, we would surely have been killed on the spot. Whether that is true or not, I can't honestly say, however it is not a theory I would have relished exploring. I have always loved animals and in particular dogs. Maybe our brush with death and the guard dogs temperament has something to do with the fact that we now have three animals as family members, the most treasured of which is Muffy, a 125 pound female German Sheppard.