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By Root 2198 0

symbolizes our ancestors’ miraculous crossing of the Red Sea, a series of nefarious decrees was issued. Events now moved rapidly. The town crier, a hunchback carrying a drum that was too big for him, imperturbably announced these decrees. By order of the military command all stores and offices belonging to Jews were closed. No Jew was allowed to go out, except in the late afternoon to buy food. There was a sudden frenzy of shopping. Though we no longer had the right to sell anything, the store’s shelves were soon emptied. It mattered little whether customers paid or not. My father simply gave them what they needed. My sisters and I pitched in. Even little Tsipouka, her hair carefully combed, helped out. If the police caught us, God would not forsake us. Who could tell what tomorrow might bring? Then there were three days of curfew. Fortunately, everyone was well provisioned. There was nothing more to fear.

The yellow star? That scarcely bothered me. It made me feel more intimately bound to the Jews of the Middle Ages who wore the rouelle in the ghettos of Italy. I felt I was living—not learning, but living—an incandescent chapter of history, one that later generations would study. No, I was not afraid of the yellow star. All Jewish families were cutting up bits of yellow cloth. A wretched market sprang up; there were stars of every possible style. Those worn by the rich were bright, those of the poor faded. Strange as it may seem, I wore mine with newfound pride. Some passersby stared at me derisively, while others averted their eyes. That was their business. But the posters that suddenly appeared on the walls were something else. They were signed by the German military governor, and their message was clear: Whoever opposed the new order would be shot. Shot? I didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it, but my legs trembled.

Special units of the army and the notorious Gendarmerie began raiding Jewish homes. There were inspections, searches, threats. You had to turn in your jewelry, silver, foreign currency, precious stones, objects of value. My father tried to make light of it. “They’re going to be disappointed. The only thing they’ll find in most Jewish homes is poverty. I hope they confiscate that too.” But even poor families had silver candlesticks or Kiddush cups for Shabbat, so they left the least valuable objects in sight and hid the others in cellars and attics. It was reported that anyone who resisted was beaten by soldiers, though not at our house. A lieutenant and two gendarmes drew up the list. They went through the living quarters and the store, searching cupboards, opening drawers, throwing books on the floor. But my poor mother was impressed nonetheless. “Did you notice?” she asked. “The lieutenant saluted on the way in and the way out?” Maybe she was trying to be funny. One way or the other, the gendarmes got what they wanted: the poor Jews of my town became poorer still.

It would be hard to exaggerate the malice of the Hungarian gendarmes. Ordered to implement the Eichmann plan, they did so with a zeal and brutality that will forever remain the dishonor of the Hungarian army and nation. Were they all anti-Semites or members of the fascist Nyilas party? Why were they so cruel, so sadistic? They beat women and children, trampled on old people and the sick. The announcement that a ghetto was to be created came almost as a relief. At least we would be among Jews, with our families.

Once again I felt as though I were reliving a page of medieval Jewish history. We would now live as our ancestors had in Italy and Spain, and later in Germany and Poland, and we would not be alone, for their presence would protect us. I pictured myself within the walls of Frankfurt or Venice, Lublin or Carpentras, listening to masters from beyond the grave who explained that these gloomy little alleyways led to the light of discovery. We must not give way to pessimism. In search of certainty, I rushed to the shelf where my mother kept her German books. There I consulted her pride and joy: the Jewish Encyclopedia. I looked up “ghetto