Interview with Tamás Székely, Győr holocaust survivor
Tomi is one of the last survivors from Győr. He recently turned 82, born on 22 November 1942. He was just over one and a half years old when he and his family were deported. Today he lives in Győr.
Did your mother tell you about your ancestors and the circumstances of your birth?
I never met my father, Dr István Székely. Two weeks before I was born, he died of a shot in the stomach on the Eastern Front. After my birth, my maternal grandparents, who visited my mother, Gizella Neuländer (Mrs Székely), and me in the Jewish Hospital in Pest, hid their grief from my young widowed mother as long as they could. Actually, my maternal grandparents, Ferenc and Mrs Neuländer (née Jolán Weinberger), lived in Kunmadaras, where my grandfather was a grain wholesaler.
My paternal grandfather, Dezső Székely (Schwarz), was the owner of the renowned Győr-based stove manufacturer Rába, founded by my great-grandfather. Around 2000, I came across an old RÁBA stove that they had manufactured, which I happily bought and restored. I put it in a house on my weekend plot, from where – real bad luck – a burglar stole it.
What do you know about the circumstances of your deportation in 1944?
I was one and a half years old, of course I have no personal memories. I do know, however, that I was deported with my mother’s family from Kunmadaras, that is my mother, my maternal grandparents, my mother’s sister from the ghetto established on the territory of the sugar factory in Szolnok[1], where we had arrived from Karcag.
We were of the “fortunate” ones, because between 20-26 May 1944 ttwo trains left from Szolnok, one to Auschwitz, but ours ended up in Austria, in Strasshof, a concentration camp near Vienna. In her well-known book “Hajtűkanyar” (“The bend in the road”), Maria Ember recalls a small child locked in a wagon together with her, who cried the whole train journey. It was supposedly me, but if it hadn’t been me, it could have easily been me.
My paternal ancestors from Győr, like most of the Jews from Győr, were murdered in the gas chambers at Auschwitz on the day of their arrival. I learnedthis from survivors. (In this respect see: Survival or certain death – editor.)
What happened in and after Strasshof?
Strasshof was a transit camp. From here, deportees were assigned to forced labour and transported to other concentration camps.
Our family was required by an Austrian farmer to work on his farm, Blaustaudenhof, near the Austrian-Czech border. This farm is located in the Laa an der Thaya region, about 80 km north of Vienna. The adult members of my family worked here with other Jewish companions from August 1944 to April 1945.
We lived in the attic above the stables. While my family was working in the fields, I was looked after by my cousin Judit Székely, then 13 years old, the daughter of my grandmother’s brother, who carried me everywhere in her arms. Judit later became a university lecturer. A human-hearted Austrian gendarme got me milk every day, essentially ensuring my survival.
My grandfather, Ferenc Neuländer, kept a diary of what happened at Blaustaudenhof and of our deportation to Theresienstadt as well as our stay there. This diary, at least the part written from January 1945 (1 January 1945 – 17 June 1945) is still in my possession.
Short extracts from the diary about the hard physical work on the Austrian farm, the mental state of the prisoners and the arrival in Theresienstadt until liberation. Grandfather mentions Tomi (Tamás) by name several times.
"Blaustaudenhof, Wednesday 21 February 1945
Cold weather. Work: hauling wood and manure, and in the afternoon sorting carrots again, which is very difficult because of the cold weather..."
"Blaustaudenhof, Sunday, February 25, 1945
... in the morning, while still in bed, everyone tells his dream ... 90% of them dream of home ... how they will get home, not because they want to stay at home, but ... to find a new home, if we cannot be equal citizens in our own homeland."
"Blaustaudenhof, Tuesday 6 March 1945
... sawing wood was not so easy for the women. / ... it was harder than coning, picking cucumbers, winding, untying, concolizing, haymaking, breaking corn, manure spreading, manure spreading, ice breaking, wood chipping, cutting hemp, picking potatoes and carrots, pricking potatoes, picking beet seeds, crushing corn, picking beets, unloading beet wagons."
"Blaustaudenhof, Saturday 10 March 1945
Today, we celebrated Gizike's (Tomi's mother - ed.) birthday by having her mother bake some pasta ... Tamás very sweetly greeted Mum."
"On the road to Theresienstadt, Sunday 15 April 1945
Heinrichschlag (now Jindris, Czech Republic, near the Czech-Austrian border - ed.), we arrived here last night, but as in the previous places, they refused to take us in ... there are 200 of us in 3 wagons, Ukrainians, Russians and Hungarians, who have been on the road for 9 days without food, from one village to another ... on foot or by wagon, on tractor, horse or ox cart ...
Many of us are often left behind and are forced to march up and down hills on foot. During an all-night march, Gizike (Tomi’s mum – ed.) and her little carriage with dear Tamás on it were left behind in the dark of night ...
... we met Hungarian troops ... who tried to help us with food from their kitchens, but as we can see, they don't have much either, because the Germans don't want to make up for their lack of food... We were put up in a dirty barn at the end of the village with a peasant called Schuster ... I slept very little, because I make a great question of conscience why we did not hide in Blaustaudenhof when my Katika and Jolánka had asked me to do so. So, I almost knew myself to be the murderer of my family, because I could see no way out..."
"Theresienstadt, Saturday, April 28, 1945
I shall continue the description of Barrack No. 4, Theresienstadt, where we arrived yesterday at daybreak, travelling in 4 wagons for 4 days and 4 nights. How we looked would be beyond the scope of the paper at my disposal to describe. What one can see and hear here, especially from those who came from the Birkenau-Auschwitz camp, would not convey the horrors not even paper could bear ... my eyes are constantly in tears and I cannot give enough thanks that chance ... has delivered us from these horrors, for they outweigh ... the sufferings of our wanderings, and even the hell of Szolnok ..."
"Theresienstadt, Tuesday, May 1, 1945
The peace treaty was signed today, so we can go home soon. The Jewish governor of Theresienstadt, Murmelstein, appointed by the SS, has resigned and has been replaced by Maizner (A. Meissner - ed.), former Czech minister. After two days all air raids ceased."
"Theresienstadt, Thursday, May 3, 1945
Today the news of 1 May is not confirmed, only to say that the Führer died a heroic death in the fight against the Bolsheviks, Dönitz took his place ... there is still no peace and we are here without any disinfection cca. 1000 of us are locked up in 200 square fathoms of fenced-in plank barracks ... indefinitely. The main currency here is tobacco and bread, there is Jewish money, but you can't buy anything for that or for marks, but for 6 cigarettes you can buy a good pair of shoes ... when I smoke, doctors, lawyers and better people come to me for cigarette butts ..."
"Theresienstadt, Sunday, May 6, 1945
... news from the town: Czech flags pinned to the gate guards, Czech Jews in cockades and Czech Jews with armbands ... the people are cheering in the streets, the British are expected to arrive in the afternoon ...
Unfortunately, we had a very bad day yesterday, poor Tamás had a high temperature at night ... he had inflammation of the middle ear ... According to an announcement today ... we are under the protection of the Geneva Red Cross ..."
"Theresienstadt, Wednesday 9 May 1945
... after a great noise of fighting, the Russian officer in charge of the town approached the town and went to the town headquarters to report that the area had been cleared of Germans. He asked to be calm, they respected the rights of the International Red Cross, no one would be harmed and asked that the yellow star of the Jews be removed. There was great joy and jubilation..."
"Theresienstadt, Thursday 31 May 1945
Today ... I have become a member of the Hungarian Committee ..., the committee whose function is to arrange for the repatriation of the Hungarians."
"Theresienstadt, Friday, June 8, 1945
Yesterday at 3 o'clock in the afternoon we were put in a railway carriage ... in my carriage there are 34 of us, of which I am the commander, unfortunately I am not in good health ..."
As the diary shows, we were directed to Theresienstadt in April 1945. Here we were liberated in the first days of June 1945.
At that time, I was two and a half years old, but because of all the deprivation, I was no more developed than a one-and-a-half-year-old child because of the inadequate nutrition of infancy. At this critical age, I lived mainly on the carrots found in the fields, constantly chewing them, almost grating them with my teeth. The disadvantage of malnutrition was not really overcome later. Much later, while walking with my mother, we sometimes came across carrot rubbish in the street, which she said I kicked away to prevent passers-by from trampling the food. My mother would weep at this.
We arrived in Budapest by train from Theresienstadt around 21 June 1945. My father’s apartment at 1 Hattyú Street in Buda was bombed during the siege. So, my mother and I travelled on to Kunmadaras to visit my maternal grandparents, who had also arrived home. It was at this time that the official notification of my father’s death as a forced labourer arrived.
My poor grandfather Neuländer did not enjoy his freedom for long, falling victim to the infamous Kunmadaras Pogrom in 1946 [2]. I still cannot find words to describe this terrible event, this horrific manifestation of anti-Semitism, which took place only a year after the mass murder of Jews.
How did life go on after the Pogrom?
Leaving behind the horrors of Kunmadaras, my mother and I moved to Győr, although none of my father’s Győr relatives returned. When I was four or five years old, I became the legal heir of the stove factory. At the age of 22, my mother took over the management of the plant, which at that time was mainly engaged in service work, until its nationalisation and liquidation in 1948. We received minimal compensation for the expropriated factory after the regime change in the 1990s.
I have fragmentary memories of my own from that period. For example, my mother and I used to get the stamps soaked off the envelopes of the letters that came to the stove factory, which we then put in an album. I also remember and know from stories that in the 1940s I became one of the favourites of the downsized Jewish community in Győr, as there were no Jewish children of my age among us.
In the beginning, we shared a flat with a Soviet-Russian officer at 42 Árpád út, who drank a lot and sometimes started firing shots in the flat. At the same time, he brought me chocolate (!) and tubes of milk cream, which was no small thing in those days.
Towards the end of the forties, my mother managed to buy an apartment at 23/b Árpád út. At that time, she remarried to Imre Székely (Schwarz), who was 20 years older than her. My sister Éva was born in 1950.
Where did you go to school?
In 1948, I became a first-year pupil at the Teachers’ Training School in Győr. I was the only Jewish child in the school and I remember that a young rabbi even taught me religion and tried to teach me Hebrew. He looked up my Hebrew name, which was Simson or Samson. I still keep my Hebrew textbook from that time.
I went to the primary school on Nagy Jenő Street, which is very close to the new flat and has been named after Miklós Radnóti for some time.
In 1960, I graduated from the Miklós Révai High School. I was not admitted to the university at first, so I became an apprentice technician at the MÜM 14 Vocational Training Institute, where I obtained a certificate as an electrician. Afterwards I studied automation and control engineering at the universities of Leipzig and Jena (GDR), but I dropped out of the diploma course. This was in the mid-1960s. I returned to Hungary and attended the Kandó Kálmán Technical College in Budapest around 1965.
In the decades that followed, I worked in many different jobs and tried to make good use of my German, English and Russian language skills alongside Hungarian. In Austria I was employed as a salesman and in a bank, and then I set up my own company, a commercial agency. I also worked for a time as a commercial adviser to the Israel Advocacy Office in Budapest, which was the predecessor of the later Israeli Embassy.
I retired in 2000, got married and moved to Győr, where I still live today with my wife Márti.
What is your relationship to Judaism?
Emotionally, I feel deeply Jewish. Until I was forced to use a walker, I regularly went to Friday night prayers in the prayer room next to the synagogue here in Győr. I always attend the Holocaust memorial service at the cemetery. My heartache is that I cannot follow the prayers in Hebrew.
I note with wisdom and joy that my son, born of a previous relationship, now 31, with whom I have been in close contact since he was a small child, and who now lives in Israel, is a truly religious Jew who also follows the rules of kosher eating. I am proud of my son, who has completed his higher education in England and Tel Aviv and now has a responsible job in an Israeli company. On my recent 82nd birthday he welcomed me in Győr.
I follow events related to Jewish life in Győr with interest, and I am a diligent reader of the Website and Newsletters of the Jewish Roots in Győr Foundation.
Tomi, thank you for the conversation.
The interview was written, edited and translated into English as well as the illustrations were inserted into the text by Péter Krausz
[1] Szolnok sugar factory ghetto: “4,700 people were crammed into accommodation for four to five hundred seasonal workers, where they had to spend ten to twelve days in appalling conditions, the vast majority of them in the open air. Their situation was made worse by the fact that on the second or third day it started to rain, which did not stop for five days.” (Szeged.hu)
[2] The pogrom in Kunmadaras was a series of anti-Semitic acts that took place after the end of the Second World War, on 21 May 1946. The riots, which started in the market square against an alleged speculator or ‘price gouger’, resulted in three deaths, all of them local Jews returning from deportation. A rumour that local Jews had kidnapped Christian children may have played a part in the escalation of events. Nine of those involved in the lynching were convicted by the People’s Court, some of whom were sentenced to death, later commuted to prison by the Budapest ordinary court. The literary version of the event is Pál Závada’s 2016 novel, A Market Day (Wikipedia https://hu.wikipedia .org/wiki/Kunmadaras) Here are the names of the three victims: Ferenc Kuti, Ferenc Neuländer (Tamás Székely’s grandfather) and József Rosinger (Magyar Narancs, https://magyarnarancs.hu/tudomany/emberevok-111640) (Ed.)