Outcasts (16 page)
A few weeks after the funeral, Hedy pleaded with Tibor to let her return to work earlier than they had planned. Home without her mother was an empty dwelling and being there all day every day only made the loss more profound. At least at work she could focus on other things. Tibor agreed, but wouldn't let her work much or stay long hours. When she didn't feel well, or became overwhelmed with grief, Tibor escorted her home. As they walked, Hedy talked at length about the shock of losing her mother, about how life could be cut short cruelly at any time. Tibor told her he regretted not having asked for her hand in marriage before her mother died. He felt in his heart that it would have been the right thing to do and that Hedy would feel comforted in the fact that her mother had known of her plans for the future before she died. He said he felt compelled to speak to her father as soon as possible. Hedy agreed.
In early March, a few months after Hedy's mother passed away, Tibor went to see Vilmos and formally asked for Hedy's hand in marriage.
Suti near the house in April 1944.
"I am deeply in love with your daughter, Mr. Weisz," he began confidently, "and wish to ask for her hand in marriage."
Vilmos looked into his daughter's eyes as Hedy and Tibor sat side by side, and realized it would be useless to object. It didn't take much to see that the two were very much in love and, after what his family had been through, Vilmos didn't have the heart to disappoint his daughter. He consented to their union. Overjoyed, Hedy and Tibor decided they would wed as soon as the war ended. Tibor shook Vilmos's hand and promised his future father-in-law that he would love, honour, and take good care of his daughter.
T
IBOR SAT ON THE
train as it chugged its way toward Budapest on its slow, tortuous journey. Because of the frequent nightly bombing raids in the countryside, the train engineer and conductors had to slow down, stop, and inspect each spot on the line where possible damage had been reported. Tibor's nerves grated each time the train slowed and came to a screeching halt and he was having trouble focusing his mind on the purpose of this trip: the meetings he had scheduled with a group of engineers at the firm of Weiss-Manfred.
To take his mind off the interminable trip, he concentrated on the dinner he would be having with his family on Sunday. He was looking forward to spending time with his mother, his sister, Picke, and their father, Domokos. He hadn't seen Picke for a while because she had spent the last year in Budapest attending a finishing school for young women. His father also hadn't been home in some time and he had specifically chosen this get-together to announce to his parents that he had asked Hedy Weisz to be his bride and that she had accepted. He very much would have wanted to bring Hedy with him on this trip but he realized that was impossible to do at the moment. But the war would be over soon - he was sure of it - and its end would herald a new beginning for both of them. He smiled as he remembered the meeting he had already had with his older brother, Istvan, and Istvan's wife, Eva. They were both thrilled at his news. Tibor had sworn them to secrecy, at least until he could announce the news to the rest of the family, but he had had to tell someone that he was engaged.
Both Hedy and Tibor were counting on the war being over soon, but the dismal state of affairs all around them just seemed to be getting worse. Once the Americans entered the war, everyone, even the loud-mouthed politicians, realized that Germany and its allies would eventually be defeated. Rumour had it that the Hungarian government had already tried to surrender to the Allies but had been thwarted by the Germans. Tibor closed his eyes and concentrated on Hedy's face. The Russians continue to make gains on the eastern front, he told himself. It is only a matter of time.
Tibor sat on the train daydreaming, his mind obsessed with plans of emigrating to some faraway place with Hedy once the war was over. He shook his head as he remembered his last meeting with their family doctor, Daniel Szabo. In the middle of dinner at a nice little café in town, Dani had announced that he had a brilliant scheme for getting to America at almost no cost. Intrigued, Tibor asked for details.
Daniel Szabo put down his glass and wiped his moustache on the back of his hand. "All right," he said looking around to see if anyone was listening. "Let's volunteer for the western front, surrender to the Americans, and then be transported to the United States for absolutely no charge."
They chuckled and Tibor looked at Dani with affection. "Everyone should be so lucky," Tibor said as he waved Szabo's scheme away. What fond memories he had of the good doctor. Unfortunately, Dr. Szabo was never able to follow his own advice. He had been shipped off to the eastern front as a military physician and had never returned from the catastrophe on the Don.
Finally, the train came to a stop at the station in Budapest and Tibor gathered his things together. He was always amazed at the atmosphere in this city. People continued to flock to restaurants, to shop, to eat and drink well, and to carry on business as usual. It was as if they were completely oblivious to the war thundering all around them. As head of the press corps, Colonel Aykler had been assigned an apartment on Kiraly-hago ut, on the Buda side, and Tibor stayed there whenever he went to Budapest. He settled in and got ready for his meetings. He would get them over with and looked forward to an evening out with his friends the next night.
Tibor was out late on Saturday night with his friends and they all had a bit too much to drink. On Sunday morning he was still asleep when he heard knocking at the door. Reaching for his dressing gown he stumbled to open the door and found Picke standing there.
"What are you doing here?" Tibor asked, still in a daze.
"Have you seen what's going on outside?" she asked, glancing at his dishevelled state. "Obviously, you haven't been out yet."
She pushed him aside gently as she walked into the narrow, long hallway of the apartment and Tibor closed the door behind her. "Get dressed and shave. You look terrible. Where were you last night?" She stood with her hands on her hips and frowned at him. "There are German tanks everywhere, they've invaded the city," she continued in an excited tone.
"Calm down, my dear sister," Tibor said, stopping her in mid-sentence. "If you don't slow down and calmly tell me what is going on, my head will explode. What are you talking about, German tanks?"
"They're everywhere. I walked over from school and I saw German tanks on every major street corner. After two blocks, I was so intimidated by them I started taking side streets."
Tibor walked over to the short wave radio and flicked it on. Classical music came wafting through the airwaves into the room. He tried another station. "More Mozart. Great!" he sighed, and he padded off to the kitchen to make coffee. "There are hundreds of hours a week of information about the war but, when something drastic happens right here in the capital, there is nothing about it on the radio." As he took a shower and dressed, he tried to make sense of it.
Nazi Germany invading Hungary? Their ally? It didn't make any sense. It was true that the Horthy regime had tried to surrender to the British, but Hitler's spies had found out about it and quashed the attempt. If it was truly an invasion, then what was the purpose?
As they headed down into the streets, Tibor soon realized that what Picke had witnessed was in fact true. German army tanks lined all the major thoroughfares of the city. They stopped at a newspaper kiosk and Tibor asked for the most recent edition of the
Magyar Hirlap
.
Tibor Schroeder as a reservist in the Hungarian army in 1942.
"It's all yesterday's news," the kiosk manager said in a flat monotone. "We haven't received anything yet this morning."
The fact that no one seemed to know what was going on was frightening.
Tibor and Picke were meeting their parents at noon and the two of them took their time as they made their way through the side streets toward the restaurant. The Zoldfa, well-known in Budapest for its exceptional cuisine and great service, was owned by their mother's uncle and it was full of well-dressed patrons. As soon as Tibor and Picke walked in, the maître d' greeted them warmly and told them their father had already reserved the table. Picke spotted their parents and hurried ahead to kiss her mother and father. Tibor followed and leaned down to kiss his mother. More reservedly, he shook his father's hand then took his place at the table. The waiter handed everyone menus and began stuffily, "I would strongly suggest the goose liver as appetizer, followed by the chicken schnitzel. This is the finest meal on our menu today and, who knows, it might be the last good meal any of us will have in this city for a long time."
Tibor stared at him, aghast by his casual attitude. As the waiter walked away, he turned to his father. "I can't believe the attitude of the people of this city. What is going on?" He was getting angrier by the minute. "There are German tanks everywhere yet there is nothing on the radio or in the newspapers and no one seems to be taking this situation seriously. It seems like everyone is ignoring the facts at hand and talking in some kind of code."
Domokos sat quietly, seemingly studying the menu, and waited for Tibor to finish. His mother pleaded with her eyes for him to stop and, even though he knew that look well, Tibor would not be silenced.
"I find it hard to believe that you," and he looked directly at his father, "as head of the press corps, knew nothing about any of this." He stopped and waited for an answer. When Domokos said nothing, he continued. "Who knew about this? Why weren't there Hungarian troops sent to the border to prevent the German tanks from invading the country?"
Picke looked from Tibor to Domokos and watched for her father's reaction. She was stunned by Tibor's outburst.They sat in an uncomfortable silence as the waiter brought the wine, poured each of them a glass and took their orders.
When he left their table, Domokos took a sip of wine, lit a cigarette, and turned to Tibor.
"Are you finished?" he asked. Tibor nodded, suddenly aware of the spectacle he was making of himself in front of his family. "Son, as we are all sitting here now, I swear to you that no one among the highest military command was informed of the German invasion. We had a report from Lieutenant-General Szilard Bakay, commander of Szombathely, that there had been unusual German troop movements throughout the border region and our general staff officers sent a message to German headquarters asking for the reason. They replied that the troop movements were training exercises."
Domokos glanced around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. When he was satisfied that no one was within earshot he continued. "Our regent was in meetings with Hitler while the invasion was being implemented. You are aware of the fact that our troops are already overextended. In order to prevent the invasion, our commanders would have had to have some prior knowledge of this invasion and our troops would have had to be redeployed from other parts of the country, mainly the east to the western front, which would have taken weeks at best." Domokos stopped, trying to control himself. It was obvious to his family that he was in great distress. "The regent and prime minister are the only individuals capable of ordering such a redeployment." He leaned in and looked into Tibor's eyes. "My information is that Regent Horthy is under house arrest by order of the German High Command." Everyone at the table took a breath and went pale. "I was as shocked as you are to realize what has happened. But I am not a politician, or part of the government for that matter. I am not part of the general staff. I command the press corps. But you cannot blame the press corps for not being informed of the invasion." He sat back heavily and took another sip of wine. He was perspiring, and wiped his forehead with his napkin.
"Let me state, unequivocally, here with my family, that I believe
this is the end
. The invasion by the Germans means we are no longer in charge of our own country or our own destiny." Then he lowered his voice and, with a spark of anger growing noticeably in his eyes, he continued. "Personally, I think the government should resign immediately, en masse. That would signal to the world that independent Hungary as a country exists no more."
