Tam byli - ale já jsem nevěděl, že tam jsou - byli u někoho židovští manželé a nepohodli se s nimi. Nevím proč. Tak se sebrali a… ti lidi je asi vyhnali, podrobnosti neznám. Viděl jsem, jak šli vesnicí na četnickou stanici a šli se udat, že tam jsou schovaní. Četníci zřejmě zavolali gestapo, za chvíli přijelo auto, naložilo je a odvezlo pryč. Těm lidem se asi nic nestalo.
Z té půdy bylo malé okýnko, viděl jsem na ten svah naproti, viděl jsem, jak Němci ustupují. Za nimi šla řada rudoarmějců, které jsem viděl poprvé. Nevěděl jsem do té doby, jak vypadají. Na tom kopci byl židovský hřbitov. Židovské hřbitovy kolem dokola vždy měly kamennou zeď, byly chráněné ještě z dřívějších dob, kdy v obci žili Židé. Němci jak utíkali před rudoarmějci, byly to oddíly 3. ukrajinského frontu, naskákali do toho židovského hřbitova za tu zeď a bránili postupu Rudé armády. Ten velitel, poručík nebo nadporučík, dal nějaký pokyn, přitáhli minoment a přes tu ohradu začali ostřelovat Němce schované na tom hřbitově. Když pak Němci chtěli vyskočit a utéct, venku na druhé straně stála řada rudoarmějců, měli kulomet, samopaly a ty Němce postříleli. Bylo to pro mě, když dneska o tom uvažuji… byla válka. Navíc ti Němci, kdyby mě našli, mě zastřelí. Takže jsem měl obrovskou radost, že je postříleli a Rudá armáda postoupila. Dostali se k nám, na dvůr, a říkal jsem si: teď už můžu jít ven, ti mě nic neudělají, to jsou moji spojenci.
Než na nás došla řada, maminkami odpárala hvězdu z oblečení, a řekla mi, abych šel na nádraží, sednul na vlak. Věděl jsem, kam mám jet, protože jsme tam předtím asi dvakrát s otcem jeli. Měl jsem vystoupit v Novém Městě nad Váhem, tam přestoupit na motorák a jet do Vadovců. Vadovce byla obec, kde jezdila ještě železnice. Bylo mi čtrnáct let a dokázal jsem to, nikdo si mě nevšiml. Výhoda byla v tom, že průkazy byly od patnácti let, mě se to ještě netýkalo. Měl jsem s sebou falešný křestní list, který vydal senior evangelické reformované církve, abych se jím prokazoval. Nikdo ode mě nic nechtěl, dojeli jsme do Nového Města, tam jsem vystoupil z vlaku. Naproti stál vlak, transport německých vojáků, Červený kříž. Byly tam sestřičky a vezli je asi do Německa, do nějakých nemocnic. Byla tam spousta vojáků kolem těch sestřiček, bál jsem se, že to špatně dopadne ale nikdo si mě nevšiml. Tak jsem si sedl na nástupišti a čekal jsem až vypraví motorák do Vadovců. Pak jsem jím jel, ve Vadovcích jsem vystoupil a ptal jsem se přednosty stanice, jak se dostanu do obce. Byla tam tři údolí, v jednom jezdily vlaky, v jednom byla silnice a ve třetím byla vesnice, kterou jsem hledal. Pak mi ten přednosta řekl, že mám jít do údolí a doprava a přijdu do vesnice. Tak jsem tak šel, přišel jsem do vesnice, našel jsem jejich dům, byl uprostřed vesnice. Šel jsem do toho domu, oni už věděli, o co jde, čekali, že přijdu. Pan Klanduch s paní Klanduchovou se mě ujali a řekli mi, že budu schovaný na půdě.
“At that time, anti-Jewish demonstrations were taking place in Bratislava. The Germans from Bratislava – so-called ‘Prešpuráci’ – played a crucial role in them. I came to know them in a rather unpleasant way. It was in 1941 or 1942, when I walked through the mountain park in Bratislava. Even though Jews were forbidden from entering the parks, being a kid, I didn’t care too much about it. However, there appeared a German boy who lived near to us. We knew each other, his name was Sepp. He brutally attacked me because I – a Jew - dared to walk around the park and destroy the beauty of the Bratislava area. I was covered in blood; I was bleeding from the nose and ears. My mother treated me at home. She told me ‘the mills of God grind slowly, but rightfully’.” It seems to be unbelievable, but she was right. Being a German, Sepp was drafted into the Wehrmacht and in 1943, Gabriel noticed a parte posted on the house of Sepp’s parents, announcing his heroic death for the fatherland and the Führer in Russia.
“Prior to August 1968, I was excited about Šik’s economic reforms. I became an active promoter of these reform ideas and believed that a meaningful change in the Communist Party was possible.
In August 1968, the tanks arrived and it was over with the reforms. At the vetting, they accused me of spreading right-wing revisionism. At that point, I realized that I would have done better to go fishing instead of becoming engaged in politics. But that was the way it turned out for me and I can say that I believed in it. I was convinced that it somehow was possible to reform it. That it was possible to create a society that was socially inclusive and prosperous at the same time. But it didn’t work. After the vetting, they expelled me from the party as well as any leading positions.”
“When the Germans came to Slovakia, it was evident that deportations of Jews were imminent. Therefore, right in the beginning of September, my father decided that I should go to Kostolné, where the Klanducha family lived. They were willing to offer me a shelter. I got there on a regular train with a fake birth certificate. I was hiding with the Klanducha family from September 1944 until April 1945, when on April 7, the village was liberated by the Red Army.”
“When I was young, I was a member of the Jewish scout organization Hashomer Hatzair in Bratislava which was dedicated to nurturing love for nature and the relationship with the Jewish people. Its typical activities included the creation of wooden watchtowers, sort of a lookout post for hunters. That organization would probably protect the kibbutzim in Israel. We would call ourselves ‘chaver’, which meant something like comrade. For our members, we also organized summer camps. The organization ceased to exist in 1938.”
“When the Germans were in the village, I had a ready-made refuge in the attic under the roof. I would always hide there and wait until they left the village, which sometimes up to two days. I lay there and wouldn’t move. The last night, the Wehrmacht soldiers slept on the floor in our house. I was hiding and didn’t even breathe. At dawn, there was an alert, the soldiers were running around the village and they started to defend themselves from the advancing Red Army. Above the village, there was a hill with an old Jewish cemetery that had a stone wall to it. They fortified themselves there and took a last stand. That seemed kind of odd to me. On the one hand, they were murdering Jews, but on the other hand, they would look for salvation at a Jewish cemetery. The Russians deployed their artillery and mortars. Some Germans were killed, some fled and others surrendered.”
“My brother was six years older than me. His name was Antonín Szász (after the war, he changed his surname to Smutný). In 1938 he went to what was then Palestine to work in a kibbutz. After the outbreak of the Second World War, he joined the Czechoslovak army. His journey led him all the way through the battle of El Alamein and Dunkirk to the west of Czechoslovakia. After the war, he worked as a historian at the Historical Institute in Bratislava. In the 1950s, he was fired for being a former western soldier and worked as a tutor of teachers.”
“When the front line came closer, the Red Army got hold of the airport in Piešťany. The Russian aircraft would fly over the road that led from Piešťany to Vrbová to Moravia. The retreating German troops used that road for their escape. Day and night, the Russian airplanes patrolled there, raiding the ranks of the retreating Germans. When it was over, we went on the road to look. The road was littered by thousands of corpses of the gunned-down German soldiers. There was a severe problem with clear the road of the bodies. The locals at first robbed the dead, stealing their shoes and looking for valuables.”
Gabriel Szász was born in 1929 in Bratislava in a Jewish family. Before the war, he lived with his parents and brother in Bratislava. He became a member of the Hashomer Hatzair Jewish organization. In 1938, his brother Antonín went to Palestine, where he later joined the Czechoslovak army. After the foundation of the Slovak State, the family was subjected to anti-Jewish measures. After the suppression of the Slovak National Uprising of 1944, Gabriel’s parents went into hiding to the countryside, staying with the Klanduchova family in Kostolné. Unfortunately, they eventually didn’t escape the Auschwitz concentration camp, where they perished. Gabriel was hiding in a shelter until the liberation by the Red Army. After the war, he studied law and later taught at the Trade-Union College in Měšice in Prague. In 1957, together with his wife and son he moved to Sokolov, where he worked in the mines. After August 1968, he was expelled from the Communist Party and had to leave his managerial post. Mr. Gabriel Szász lives in Sokolov. Gabriel Szász died on 6 September 2019.
