Béres Iván
Born 6 June 1941, Budapest. He was an industrial trainee before the Revolution, than fought at Corvin Alley. Later he was not called to account, he worked as a tanner, then a lorry-driver.
I heard shots from the direction of Múzeum Boulevard. I fled into the gateway of the house behind the Verseny Department Store. I saw that the white coats were trying to drive towards Múzeum Boulevard in a lorry. One of them was hit by the Russians, and he fell out of the truck. Whether he was a doctor or not I don't know, but he had a white coat on, and there was a large red cross on the side of the lorry. But they could not go on because the Russian tanks burst out of Múzeum Boulevard and came down Rákóczi Road. Tanks! At such times, even the lame could run so fast you wouldn’t believe it! Rákóczi Road was emptied in a few seconds.
Then tremendous shooting began. I simply did not know what it was. Revolution? This word did not occur to me then.
When the shooting was finished, I saw that a ZIL* truck stopped on the pavement next to the department store. A Russian solider was lying on the ground next to it. And there was a rifle alongside him. I walked up to him. I don't know whose rifle it was, as it was not a Russian one, but a Hungarian rifle. I picked it up and checked if it was loaded. As soon as I cocked the hammer, the bullet flew out. The wounded soldier who was lying there was deathly pale. His eyes were wide open, and he could see I had the rifle in my hands. He only had enough strength to look up at me and raise his hand. But he was only able to lift one hand, as if to surrender. I did not shoot him, because one does not shoot at the wounded. What happened to that Russian soldier, I don't know. But I kept the rifle.
Then the terrible thing happened; the revolution was crushed, and the militia groups** were formed. One of my schoolmates was living in the third house from ours. Once I saw his father in a militia uniform. I asked him: "What's up? Your dad's become a Kádár henchman?" My family was very worried about me, as everyone in the neighborhood knew that I had been in the revolution. But nothing happened. In the seventies, my classmate's father was walking at the Füredi Road housing estate, holding a stick. I said "Good day, Mr. Garamvölgyi!" It was getting dark. "Hello", he said, "Iván, is that you?
Do you remember, son, when you told Laci that his father had become a Kádár henchman?
Do you know that I saved you from being arrested? It was me, the militia captain who removed your name from the list!" And the reason he saved me? My grandmother made undergarments. During the fifties he made and repaired lots of shirts for Mr. Garamvölgyi, who was working at the Council*** at the time, so he needed many white shirts. Perhaps that was the reason I got away with it all, and now I can sit here.
* : ZIL was a type of lorry, Soviet made.
** : Militia groups were formed after the Revolution was crushed as mobile and flexible law enforcement units. They consisted of ex-ÁVO men, police and soldiers.
*** : The council was the local government agency.