Raoul Wallenberg. What I Learned From TEXT AND PHOTOGRAPHS BY TOM VERES. 152 Look Back

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1 What I Learned From Raoul Wallenberg TEXT AND PHOTOGRAPHS BY TOM VERES In the summer of 1944, Hitler began to kill the Jews in Hungary, as he had done in other European countries the Nazis had conquered. In July of that summer, a young Swedish architect, Raoul Wallenberg, arrived in Budapest, Hungary s capital, sent by the Swedish government. Wallenberg had no diplomatic training; his weapons were his wit and determination. His purpose was to save lives. Focus Your Learning Reading this magazine article will help you: understand the power of heroic figures understand a character s motives and present them in a dramatic monologue create a tableau 152 Look Back

2 The day I found out what it really meant to be Wallenberg s photographer was November 28, 1944, when his secretary handed me a piece of paper with his instructions: Meet me at Jozsefvárosi train station. Bring your camera. The Jozsefvárosi train station was a freight depot on the outskirts of town. I took my Leica and got on the streetcar, not knowing what to expect. At the time, everybody, especially those on the Nazis hit list, thought lying low was the best plan. Yet here I was, on a raw November morning, heading for Jozsefvárosi Station. I found the station surrounded by Hungarian Nazis and gendarmes from the countryside. Wallenberg expected me to find a way to get in, so I shoved my camera in my pocket and went to one of the gendarmes. Using the world s phoniest Swedish accent, I spoke in a mixture of broken Hungarian and German. I m a At left (p. 152), released prisoners saved from deportation by Raoul Wallenberg walk hurriedly out of Jozsefvárosi Station on their way to freedom. Tom Veres took this photo with his camera hidden in a scarf. Veres later took each released prisoner s photo for a Schütz-Pass (p. 154), which provided safe passage out of Hungary. Raoul Wallenberg, photographed by Veres in 1944 (p. 156), was arrested with his driver by the Soviet secret police in January According to Soviet authorities, Wallenberg died of a heart attack in a Moscow prison in Swedish diplomat! I must go in to meet Raoul Wallenberg! The gendarme stared at me incredulously but let me in. The scene inside was harrowing. Thousands of men were being loaded into cattle cars. Wallenberg was there with his Studebaker and his driver, Vilmos Langfelder. When he saw me, he walked over and whispered slowly, Take as many pictures as you can. Pictures? Here? If I were caught, I d be on that train myself, Swedish legation or no Swedish legation. I climbed into the back seat of the car and took out my pocketknife. Cutting a small slit in my scarf, I positioned the camera inside it. Then, as calmly as possible, I walked through the train yard snapping pictures. Wallenberg had his black ledger out. All my people get in line here! he called. All you need to do is show me your Schütz- Pass! He approached a line of passengers. You, yes, I have your name here. Where is your paper? The startled man emptied his pockets, looking for a paper he never had. He pulled a letter out. Fine. Wallenberg said quickly. Next! Men caught on at once. Letters, eyeglass prescriptions, even deportation notices became passports to freedom. In his ledger Raoul and his assistants carefully checked Look Back 153

3 off, or added, each name in the book. I tried to become invisible, snapping away, trying to catch what was going on. Tommy! Tommy! I heard my name and turned around. In line, almost on the train, was my best friend, George. We had been in Grade One together and had been friends ever since. Now he was in line to die. I had only a split second to think. Tom Veres I walked over, grabbed him by the collar and said, You dirty Jew, get over there! I pointed toward Wallenberg s line. I said go! Are you deaf? I kicked his backside. He understood and got in line. Wallenberg had pulled hundreds out of line, when he sensed the Nazis losing patience. Now back to Budapest, all of you! he said. The new Swedes walked out of the station to freedom. Wallenberg turned back to face their captors. He began to lecture them in measured tones about health conditions, crowding on trains anything to take their attention off those departing. As soon as they had a good head start, Raoul and I got back into the car where Vilmos waited. The danger we d been in didn t hit me until then. This man, a Swede, could have waited the war out in safety, yet here he was marching into train yards surrounded by Nazis and asking others to do the same! When we got back to town, I found George, took him to one of Wallenberg s protected houses, and took his picture for a Schütz-Pass. Stay here until I get your papers! I said. The next day, word came: more deportations from Jozsefvárosi Station. Again I was asked to go. It was a ghastly 154 Look Back

4 repeat. Gendarmes with machine guns; thousands being herded into trains. This time my Leica was already hidden in the folds of my scarf. As Wallenberg started calling off common names that many men might answer to, I started snapping photos. That day my cousin Joseph was among those marked for death, as was one of Hungary s great actors. I pulled them out of line to join Wallenberg s hundreds. It was then that I saw a chance. I walked around the train, to the side away from the station. The train hadn t yet been padlocked from that side. I climbed on the outside of an already filled car, pushing all my weight against the bolt that held the door shut. The spring clicked. The long door slid back. Those inside, who a moment before had stood prisoners in the darkness, now blinked at the November sky. Move! I said. Quickly! They started jumping off the train, running to the line where Wallenberg continued to give out passes. Before long, however, Wallenberg clearly saw that his time was up and began shouting, All of you released by the Hungarian government, back to town! March! At the same time, a Hungarian policeman had seen what I was up to. He pointed his revolver at me. You! he shouted. Stop what you re doing! Raoul and his driver got into the Studebaker and drove around to my side of the train. Raoul opened the door and leaned out. Tom! Jump! I didn t have a moment to think. I made the longest jump of my life. Raoul pulled me inside, and Vilmos stepped on the gas. Raoul smiled and looked back at the train station. I don t think we ll come back here for a while! Refuge in Canada For some immigrants, the most important address in Canada is 52 Elgin Avenue in Toronto, headquarters for the Quaker Committee for Refugees. To this old brick house come individuals and families fleeing persecution in El Salvador, Iran, Bulgaria, and other countries torn by political strife. Some arrive with no more information than a slip of paper with the refugee centre s phone number written on it. Many refugees come because they have heard of the woman who lives at 52 Elgin Avenue. She is Nancy Pocock, eighty-three years old, the centre s founder and energetic co-ordinator. Pocock and her staff of volunteers find food, shelter, and clothing, arrange help from lawyers and social workers, and guide the newcomers Look Back 155

5 through the complicated immigration process. They obtain emergency legal assistance for the most desperate refugees, those in danger of deportation. Volunteers who work with Nancy describe her as an honest and down-to-earth person with a good sense of humour. She acts on her beliefs on a daily basis, says one volunteer. She s the most warm and loving person I ve ever met. Nancy Pocock s work on behalf of refugees has become well known in Toronto. Many cab drivers have heard of her and take refugees right to her house. She has received numerous awards, including the Pearson Peace Medal from the United Nations Association of Canada. More important to Nancy than the awards, however, is the love extended to her from those she has helped. Tom Veres Some have stayed on at the centre as volunteers. For them and for thousands of others who have passed through her home, Nancy Pocock has become known affectionately as Mama Nancy. Activities 1. Work in a small group to make a list of some modern heroes. Why are these people heroic? How has their behaviour had an impact on the lives of others? Make a list of heroic figures who have made an impact on others. Share your list with the class, explaining your choices. 2. Imagine that you are Raoul Wallenberg. The war is over. Prepare a dramatic monologue in which you explain to your grandchildren what you did to save Jews from going to the concentration camps, and why you did it. 3. Work in a group to create a tableau of any scene described in this article. Try to catch the atmosphere captured by Tom Veres. 156 Look Back