|Tibor Cseres: Serbian Vendetta in Bacska|
UJVIDEK, RENAMED NOVI SAD
"On October 23, 1944, Todor Gavrilovic Rilc, Political Commissar of the Partisan Division in Novi Sad, flew the red-starred flag of the new Yugoslavia from the tower of the Hungarian built Ujvidek City Hall.
During the day, the 7th Vojvodina Brigade marched into Ujvidek, Capitol of the Province. The Serbians, old and young of the town, crowded in the streets welcoming the liberating partisans. Flags, red and in national colors, with five-pointed stars, were fluttering everywhere. Slogans resounded cheering the party and Comrade Josip Broz Tito. The Hungarians stayed indoors.
The enthusiastic and happy citizens mingled with the soldiers and together they celebrated", remembers Jovan Veselinov Zharko, the newly appointed Municipal Party Secretary, recalling the Serbs' feelings concerning the day when Ujvidek was renamed Novi Sad.
Gyorgy Szigethy, Hungarian citizen from Novi Sad, has completely different sentiments compared to the Serbs' solemn mood.
"On October 20, 1944, the last gendarmes left Novi Sad, which fell on evil days then. The first Soviet and partisan troops arrived on October 22. During these three days, the town's unofficial leader was a Serbian Orthodox Priest named Olimpia.
Escorted by some partisan officers, a Soviet major came by car, there was great ovation. When a Russian military truck arrived loaded with Russians and partisans, with much difficulty the major got out of the car. The major was lifted onto a platform, with a 5 liter demijohn in his hand. Raising it to his mouth, he drank deeply and made the long-awaited welcoming speech, on the occasion of having occupied the city:
There was another great ovation, when a partisan officer presented the regards of Comrade Tito and of his liberating army. Then Olimpia welcomed the liberating brothers.
That night the terror began in Novi Sad."
One of the reasons that the Serbs regarded the shabby-looking partisans as their liberators, because they killed the Hungarian enemies of the Serb hosts for a bottle of spirits.
If Bulgarian troops, marching across the region had arrived on
time, a great number of Hungarians could have been saved.
On October 23, the partisans started arresting Hungarian men living in the district west of the railroad line dividing the town. Usually guided by a local Serbian resident, armed partisans with machine guns carried Hungarians off every night. They destroyed Hungarian homes, searching for "fascists" who might be hiding and looting.
Girls and women suffered a lot at that time. The town rabble had its way of pleasing the partisans. Spying on Hungarian houses, they knew where young girls and women could be found. They led drunken partisans to them, and in return they could plunder under the protection of partisan arms.
The captured Germans were collected in the fastener factory, in Most Sumadijska Street. The partisans shot everybody who was reluctant to hand over his valuables.
The Hungarians were led to the former winter port of the Danube. The fort of the former Hungarian river police on Martial Island served as the center for the upcoming massacre. According to the survivors, men were locked up here for days and for months. Some of the captives were 14 or 15 year old boys, "Leventes" (a compulsory apolitical, para-military youth organisation, universally disliked), who were considered "dangerous fascists".
On October 25, a partisan officer appeared in the fort, escorted by a troop of obviously drunken armed men. He read out some 300 names from a sheet of paper by his flashlight. Having finished reading, he put the light in his pocket, waving to his men. They surrounded the selected Hungarians and disappeared in the night with them. After a while, we heard the machine guns rattle and the truck engines roaring.
A friend of mine, who was among the selected ones, had luck. In the summer of 1944 an American bombardment had destroyed the power station near the railroad station, so on the night of the massacre it was very dark. The darkness saved my friend. When his name was read out, he was struck numb with fear. He did not report even at the repeated call, and the officer went on reading as if nothing had happened. His name was not mentioned again. The Hungarians who were carried off from home were massacred according to the roll. My friend had been driven to Martial Island in the morning of October 24. On arriving he saw 4,000 men crowding there. The partisans called out these men in groups of 100, and shot them dead in a quarter of an hour with machine guns. Paralyzed with fear, the captives waited, feeling and
knowing that they must die because they are Hungarians.
At first the partisans carried off people according to a list of names, under the auspices of the National Defence Department, OZNA (Odeljenie za zastitu naroda). This organ was the forerunner of the dreaded UDB (State Security Authority).
All the victims had stayed in their homeland, because they felt innocent. They had not taken part in the reprisals against the Serb Communist Partisans, therefore, tought they had no reason to flee. As it later developed, their main and only fault was not a particular war crime but being Hungarian.
On the second night, the previous scene was repeated, a roll was read out again. The partisan officer said smiling, those whose names were called may go home. We did not hear the rattle of guns as these men left. Later on, however, we learnt that none of them arrived home.
On the fifth day, the captives on the island received some water and bread. During the week-end Russian soldiers took some 100 men to work on the reconstruction of the airfield, many of them survived.
During the first week some 1,500 men were killed on the island. Most of them were shot and pushed into the Danube. Some are buried in a land called Shanghai, on the floodplain behind the slaughter house between the highroad to the village of Katy and the Danube. From 1941 to the fall of 1944, this floodplain area had been a frontier zone, where the Hungarian corp of engineers had built a primitive defense line with trenches made from wood and earth. These trenches served as common graves later. Partisans were patrolling railway stations, roads, and trains, and ruthlessly killing everyone who did not have a travel document issued by them.
The partisans murdered the majority of the assembled men. A small numbers of the victims were driven to work but many of them were killed along the way. The partisans shot two Franciscans, Rev. Krizosztom Korosztos, the prior, and brother Kristof Kovacs, and robbed the monastery. Before the Soviet troops marched into the town, Ferenc Svraka, the parson in town, had phoned brother Krizosztom asking for advice, pondering whether to flee or stay. Almost at the same time Tallian, a relative of Krizosztom's, told him, "Brother, the last train is leaving soon. Be ready!"
All this happened before and after the morning mass. Although it was a week day, the flock gathered in such large numbers for the mass, that half of them had to remain outside. At this sight Krizosztom phoned the parson and his relative, the commissioner
of police and said, "I cannot leave my flock and lose touch with them, as they will need me."
However, he did not forbid his brethren from to escaping but recommended fleeing. Still, two Franciscans, brother Mihaly and the previously mentioned brother Kristof stayed with him in the monastery.
When hunting for Hungarian men, the armed partisans overlooked the monastery altough a shoemaker working in the neighborhood warned them that there were men in the monastery.
The partisans told the humpbacked, sickly Krizosztom to stay, but he refused, "If you do not let my brethren go, take me with you, too!", he cried and followed the two younger monks. Krizosztom and Kristof were slain. Father Mihaly survived the sufferings, and wrote a diary-like report about the bygone events.
"24th October, 1944. Yesterday was Saint John's of Capistrano Feast Day. In the sky above Ujvidek, the clouds are thinning out, heading towards Budapest with all the nervousness of the pursued. Under the clouds geese are migrating to the south honking dreadfully as if they were saying, "Poor, poor are those staying here."
We are withdrawing to the monastery. Someone remarked,"Now only the Serbs and the honest Hungarians stayed in Novi Sad."
There is some frightened, hidden self-justification in this remark against a future accusation. "Why would Tito's partisans hurt those who have done only good, I know everyone thinks that all Hungarian are guilty, To be a Hungarian is a deadly sin."
25th October, 1944. I am visiting some patients in hospital today. Our flag has disappeared from the facade, and their flags are flapping there. A lad passes by me running, with a newspaper in his hands, Novi Sad, Novi Sad is the title of the new paper. The red ribbon on his cap follows the boy.
The guards are Serbs already. They are eyeing everyone like predatory sparrow-hawks.
In the evening, we shiver and huddle together with a homely warmth, trying to ease the silence pressing our chests by telling the stories of our lives. We are looking back like the dying.
Our prior, Rev. Krizosztom Korosztos was citing Saint John Chrysostom his patron saint, who spent his hard life in exile... Nomen est omen! Now Rev. Korosztos thinks that his patron saint has something in store for him. He is an inspired Hungarian patriot, who volunteered for his mission in Bacska. He left the
peaceful monastery in Szecseny, where he had been the prior, he joined the Transylvanian Army Corp as a chaplain.
Rev. Kristof Kovacs was born in Jaszbereny. Saint Christopher, his patron saint holds Little Jesus on his shoulder, while fording a river. He is a good educator and an especially fervent palmist. Reading his own hand many a time he foretold, "I won't live long! That is what my life line shows, and I will die a violent death!"
I am Mihaly (Michael), the protege of the dragon-killing archangel, and a devoted Hungarian son of a Swabian family from Almaskamaras. We are all young. We could live much longer, though Rev. Krizosztom has always been sickly, and he is called "the old one" by the flock because his gouty humped appearance. We confessed to each other. We studied the Pope's blessing, and the authorization of Rodex for extreme cases.
26th October, 1944. Troops have been marching through the town since dawn, as if pursuing those who left earlier for the Danube. In the morning partisans occupied the streets.They hammered on the doors, thumping with the butts of rifles. When the host lingered, the door was burst open. Guns thundered and people swore. The moans were more and more frequent. All men aged 18 and 50 years old were driven away for an account.
Similarly to an overflowing river, the driven mass flooded every street, like cattle being driven towards the slaughterhouse.
It was a silent, mute march. No one believed that it will be just an identity check.
We cannot speak to our Serbian guards. We were trying to explain to them that Rev. Krizosztom should be freed. They may have freed him, but he stayed, because he didn't want to leave without us.
The fear was rushing along our nerves during the march, will it be a bullet in the back of the head, The waters of the Danube in October are already cold, but it won't matter at all...
We were going to Monarica. New ones kept coming till late at night. We were lying down on the bare floor. I pushed my overcoat under the prior's sore waist.
We heard many hots, one by one or in long bursts.
900 men arrived from Temerin with shovels and picks. Will they dig our grave, Everyone thinks of this.
27th October, 1944. Nothing happened all day. We were waiting excitedly. Small groups kept arriving to join us. At around ten at night, some partisans entered the place holding a long list from which they read out some 300 names. Rev. Krizosztom's name was also mentioned. "You can go home and continue your work.
Since it is already late, you cannot leave for home right now, as it is not secure in the streets. You will spend the night in Pavilion #2."
Those whose names were read were still milling around in the pavilion in the morning.
Around noon, Pavilion #2 was not empty yet.
In the evening we were strictly commanded, "Lay down! No one can go to the window!"
The windows were set so low, that we could see out of them even from the floor. Armed men were standing in two rows in front of the pavilion. A military band started playing.
Some of us sitting close to the windows reported on every phase of the events. "The gate of the pavilion is opening. The captives are coming out tied together in threes. The soldiers are beating them with rifle butts. The prisoners are stopping short. They are trembling. Those who get a harder blow, fall on their knees, and are floored."
Then they were driven away. Later the music drowned out the thundering of machine guns.
29th October, 1944, the old Franciscan priest is said to have been badly beaten! He was beaten to death.
Others report that he had been skinned before being killed, because he had settled Szekelys, i.e. Magyars of eastern Transylvania to "Dobrovoljac" (settlers from other Serbian provinces) houses. The latter is true, but we cannot believe that he had really been flayed. In those days, such a long torturing procedure was not used for killing there, as the murderers did not have either the time or the patience for this. What seems possible is that Rev. Krizosztom's piety and his fragile, sickly look, and the fact that he denied even a silent collaboration, provoked the accompanying soldiers to slay or shoot him suddenly.
That night they called out several hundred of us again. After a while we could hear the rattle of the automatic weapons.
30th October, 1944, we were making acquaintances with the others in the camp. The troubles or problemes of others made us forget ours, we tried to make others forget. Kristof is made friends easily, as there was some charm in his character. He was a magnet, attracting others as if he were attracting iron dust.
We can't accept that we have lost Krizosztom, though he accepted his fate himself.
"I have only one chance to be sacrificed for my Church and Homeland, I cannot let it go." he said at the beginning of the fall.
He took the valuable chalices and sacred cloth of the cloister in Ujvidek to Budapest, and handed them over to the Reverend Provincial. He asked him to stay, because the Serbs were vengeful.
"Coming to Buda was not to save my hide, but save to the valuables of the Order". He refused to accept the possibility of staying in Buda.
In the evening terrible news came, five hundred martyrs were buried in the abandoned trenches.
November 1, 1944, we were crossing the river on a ferry to Fort Petervarad. Kristof was hobbling beside me. In his eyes, the rays of the setting sun said farewell. We heard the tolling of the bells from the town. "Kristof! Is it already us for whom the bells toll!"
There was a long wait, then an order came.
"Run! Run!." We have to rush not to be trampled by the guards' horses. Eight hundred captives stopped short at the castle gate, gasping wildly for breath . On the gate there is a big skull and an inscription below, Memento mori!, i.e. Remember death! Why, We could not think of anything else.
The guard beside us asks Kristof, "What is the time,"
Kristof tells him the time and smiles, while the guard takes his watch away, saying, "You won't need it any more..."
In the casemates under the fortress, the atmosphere was sepulchral. People kept coming to confess one by one. The officers were taken away.
November 2, 1944. It was said that only two hundred men were to remain here, the rest would be ordered to go farther. We were shrinking back, trying to stay among the remaining.
We heard the fierce shout,
"Papovi napred!", i.e. "Priests forward! They are scolding us, we are guilty.
With iron rods, sticks, shovels they beat us. The bones cracked, our faces were bleeding.
They were beating us till they started to sweat. I was ordered to wipe the others' faces clean. Poor Kristof had a long cut on the head, he was bleeding heavily. I forget my own wound. We were going forward. The speed of the march was regulated by blows.
Occasionally I cast a furtive look at Kristof to see how he could keep up with such a wound. We reached a well. Bloody water is
running from Kristof's mouth.
In the afternoon he is not able to stand or walk any longer. He has received a hard blow on the leg, maybe one of his tendons is ruptured. Some are willing to carry him, but the guard shouts at us, "Put him beside the haystack!" This was a death-sentence.
"Sic debuit esse", Kristof said. "This is the way it should happen." "Then shoot me, too", I ask the guard. "Go to hell", he said jerking me after the others.
Then a Russian truck came with a black death's head flag on it. We raised Kristof onto the truck. I put his cowl on him, too. He was being driven to death.
A young guard addresses me in Hungarian, "Father, why have you stayed here,""Because we love you." He is startled.
"Why should the innocent run away,", I said.
November 3, 1944. The guard who spoke Hungarian warns me while he helped me to a house because, I was about to faint.
"Take off your frock, they will beat every priest to death", he said. Our host procures a jacket for me from the local priest. My partners were mainly from Temerin. They shared their little food with me.
November 12, 1944. We went to work. Good news came, the aged and the ill can go home. On Sunday morning, when they were leaving, I was hurrying after them but I was stopped by my guard, "You have to stay here." Oh Lord, I am sentenced to death. A few days pass before we learn that they were not going home, but were shot into the Danube.
I was crushed beneath the burden of God's incomprehensible measures, he wants me to live against my wish.
In 1945 I informed Rome of everything, Father Michael." Beside shooting the victims into the Danube, some of the corpses were burnt in "Shanghai", next to the slaughter-house.
A German prisoner-of-war, a driver, said in Passau, Germany : "We were transferring men for days from Ujvidek (Neusatz in German), we never carried anyone back. There is a small woods near Szenttamas and Feketics, that is where we were going by truck.
The men we carried there were forced to dig the pit for the mass grave, then they were shot into it. The next bunch of people buried the corpses, then dug their own graves. We buried the last ones, and because we did not have to dig a pit, we hoped that we could drive the trucks back."
In the 1970s a proposed highway was to pass the woods at Feketics, but the authorities rerouted it in another direction after being warned that mass graves were there.
The fate of the Hungarian captives in the fort of the river police who were taken away after the second night call and told to go home, but who never returned was unknown by the remaining prisoners. They did not hear any rifle-fire or rounds from machine guns. These victims were herded to the Guszak quarters, and massacred. Their necks were slashed with knives.
In 1947, those compelled to forced labor were to build embankments on today's Pinki Street, where the embankments in the direction of Guszak had ended. Behind the quarters, the pick and shovel men found a mass grave full of human bones and severed skulls.
The Partisans shot all the captured Hungarian students, too. The students were massacred in the woods of Rajc, after having been driven along the bridge over the canal, close to the slaughter-house, naked and with hands tied together above their heads.
No one returned from the soccer-field of the Cultural Society group in Ujvidek either.
The data, which shows that on the soccer-field alone, ten thousand people were killed, is exaggerated. This number refers to the losses of the whole town.
In the summer of 1941 the Hungarian railroadmen who transferred to Ujvidek officially participated in transporting, and detraining the Csango-Szekelys from Bukovina, (Rumania) and helped them settle at the "Dobrovoljac" place. Upon this score nine unsuspecting Hungarian railroaders, with a station agent and some traffic managers among them, were arrested. As they did not consider themselves guilty, they were not afraid of punishment. However, the partisans, encouraged by the Dobrovoljacs, tied all the Hungarian railroaders with wire to the rails at the station in Piros, and drove the only yard-engine remaining there over them. While the whistle blew once, all of the nine victims were beheaded and dismembered either at the knee or at the shin, according to their height.
Szenttamas has a bloody heritage going back to the War of Independence in 1848-49. Then, openly opposed to the Hungarian government, some troops of Serbian border guards entrenched themselves in the villages which had remains of Roman fortifications. During the year of 1848, the government troops launched an unsuccessful attack three times against these armed Serbs, who were declared rebels.
The first siege on July 14, 1848, was led by lieutenant general Baron Fulop Berchtold, the commander-in-chief of the government troops. However, the siege began dispiritedly and halfheartedly. Having met the resolute resistance of the rebelling Serbs, Lt-Gen. Berchtold soon gave the order to retreat despite the superiority of the Austro-Hungarians in number.
On the same night, after the siege of Szenttamas, the commander of the Serbs ordered an attack on the neighboring village, Foldvar, emboldened by their unexpected success against the Austro-Hungarian forces. The Serbs could march into the town only on the third day of the assault, during which the Serb and Hungarian villagers set each other's houses on fire one by one.
The government troops reoccupied Szenttamas by noon on the 18th of July. In the Catholic church, they found 37 Hungarian children's bodies with the heads cut off. These children must have been the victims of the Serb soldiers.
At this sight the imperial divisions of the army, i.e. the Polish, Czech and German soldiers, who at the time still took the side of the Hungarian government, rushed to the Serb villagers, and massacred everyone they could reach. When they could not catch up with the Serbian outlaws who committed these horrifying, Balkan sins, the troops destroyed the furnishings of the Serb church. I learnt all this from an authentic source, reading the memoir of an Austrian colonel, Count Leopold Kolowrat. According to him, even the Serb commander was shocked at the events.
On August 19th, the Hungarian army in Bacska, by this time strengthened, was ordered by Defense Secretary Lazar Meszaros to lay siege to Szenttamas again. The assault started from three different directions, the villages Kisker, Verbasz, and Obecse. Though the attacking parties of the 2nd infantry regiment, led by
Colonel Bakonyi and Lieutenant-Colonel Aulich, succeeded in breaching the fortification, the attack failed again because of the tough resistance of the Serbs.
The main reason for the victory of the Serbs in Szenttamas is the fact that the rebel troops consisted of veterans, experienced frontier guards, and trained Serbian volunteers, while the Hungarian soldiers were mostly untrained draftees.
Owing to this, the third attack on September 21, proved also unsuccessful, although it had been organized under Lazar Meszaros' leadership. The repeated failure of the Hungarian soldiers strengthened to a great extent the rebels' confidence and martial spirit.
On April 1, 1849, Mor Perczel's division of 7,000 battle hardened soldiers laid siege to Szenttamas, which was defended by some four thousand Serb frontier guardsmen.
The village, situated on the banks of the Ferenc Canal, was approached at dawn on the 3rd of April by the two columns of Mor Perczel's forces, who came from two directions, east and south.
One of the columns came from Verbasz, under the leadership of Colonel Miklos Gal, the other one was commanded by Miklos Perczel, from Kisber.
Before the battle the dark image of the last year's atrocity in Foldvar, the image of the 37 beheaded Hungarian children in front of the Catholic altar, had been circulating among the Hungarian soldiers. Though few of them had participated in the reoccupation of Foldvar, all of them became furious while marching toward Szenttamas.
The battle started with the pounding of artillery at seven in the morning. The Serbian frontier guards beat back three charges of the Hungarian infantry. The long lasting gun fire and the bayonet charges proved unsuccessful. Nevertheless, Miklos Perczel at last managed to occupy the bridge-head. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Sandor Foldvary entered the fortification, flourishing a flag, accompanied by national guardsmen from Szeged.
An awful hand to hand fight followed. The Serbs wanted to flee over the bridge, but the determined Hungarian soldiers, were chasing them and threw most of them over the railing of the bridge.
At another location, Gal's column was unable to break the desperate resistance for a very long time, and he could only succeed after Miklos Perczel had entered the village.
Since the soldiers from Szeged were successful, the other Hungarian troops could occupy the right, then the left sides of the
fortification. Then the battle raged higher against the frontier guardsmen, who tried to seek a place to hide in the village. At last it ended with a sweeping victory. The Hungarians cut down all the captured Serbs, as neither side gave mercy. Upon seeing beheaded Hungarian corpses on the main square of the village, the Hungarian soldiers fought with an even more ruthless fury.
After the bloody struggle, about two thousand Serb frontier guards were found dead on the battle field. The Hungarian casualties came to 200.
According to the Serbian notion of valor, the villagers of Srbobran, which was renamed Szenttamas in 1941, could not have surrendered to the arriving Hungarian troops without putting up a fight.
The Hungarian soldiers were fired at in the streets or from attics. They sometimes fired back, but were not always hitting the place where the snipers were shooting from.
During the days of the Hungarian entry in 1941, ninety-two Serbs from Szenttamas died.
In the following months the Hungarians interned twelve people, accused with illegal subversive activity and the counter-intelligence corps arrested and took away twenty-one villagers.
Without any investigation, we can easily assume that among the dead, the interned, and those accused of espionage, there may have been those who were completely innocent and had to suffer despite their innocence, says a Yugoslavian summary made in 1946.
No one can tell whether the bloodshed of 1849 or that of 1941 created a more ardent memory for the villagers in Szenttamas. Obviously, in the fall of 1944, mainly the latter one would be more vividly remembered by concerned families or relatives.
According to the martial morals of the partisans, "the liberators of the people", the revenge could not have been avoided.
Pal Suge is one of the few witnesses of the revenge who dared to verify his testimony by giving his name. Obviously, since he fled to a Western country, he was not afraid that the retaliation could reach him. Therefore, he told the Serbian national secret. In 1944, Pal Suge was 21, and at this most vulnerable age, he succeded in hiding away from the murderous Serbian guns in his native village.
"In October 1944, when the Hungarian and German army units evacuated Szenttamas, the Russian troops and Tito's partisans
marched in immediately. Then there were 18 thousand villagers, now only 15 thousand people live here. Three thousand Hungarians were either killed or carried off. The partisans led the groups of captured men to the old Serbian cemetery, where the victims were forced to dig their own graves. Having finished working, they were shot dead while standing in their graves. These were common graves. The following groups buried the dead, then they had to dig new graves for themselves. The executions continued for four or five days, each night two or three groups were executed. A group consisted of 150-200 people. The length of the graves was 15-20 m, the width was some 7 m. There are 4 or 5 mass graves like that. There are smaller common graves, with 15-20 corpses in them.
I can explain why they were massacred with the help of an example. My cousin's wife, in her seventh month of pregnancy, was carried off at night, then they beat her severely, and shot her dead in the cemetery together with the other victims. Her only guilt was that her husband was a Hungarian soldier and an arrow-cross man (i.e. member of the Hungarian Nazi party), though he did not hold any office. A woman, between 40-45 years old, crawled out of the common grave, but she bled to death about 100 metres from there. By the next day, hungry stray dogs had torn her body to pieces. Those who had Serbian enemies were all slaughtered, including their families. All those whose Chetnik sons had been convicted by the Hungarian authorities had their revenge."
Though all Hungarian villagers in Szenttamas suffered a great deal during the reign of terror, all of them cannot be included among the victims, as some emigrated from there, or died natural deaths. So our sad summary does not have an exact final result.
According to even a conservative estimate, the number of the executed is above one thousand. The greatest possible number is around two thousand. The unrestrained killing and most of the executions lasted four days. Thereafter, Hungarians were murdered in Szenttamas only occasionally.
Three common graves were in the cemetery, but there were other graves at the lumber mill, and at the cloister.
An eight-year-old girl had accidentally witnessed the slaughter unobserved, and told her parents what she had seen. The neighbors heard the child's report, too. Rumor had it that the innocent little girl had "harmful" news. The next day the partisans took away the little witness and executed her.
In 1941, seven Serb men died by rifle fire in Bacsfoldvar, and
another seven were arrested by the counter-intelligence in the following years.
In 1944, in the same village seventy innocent Hungarian men were led to the bank of the Tisza and shot, so that their bodies fell into the river near Gyongy Island.
None of the remaining Hungarians in Foldvar remember the 1848 beheading of Hungarian children by the rebel Serbian Frontierguards....
|Tibor Cseres: Serbian Vendetta in Bacska|