PLEASE NOTE: This book contains graphic description ... - HUNSOR

"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.56He took the valuable chalices and sacred cloth of the cloister in Ujvidek to Budapest, andhanded them over to the Reverend Provincial. He asked him to stay, because the Serbs werevengeful."Coming to Buda was not to save my hide, but save to the valuables of the Order". Herefused to accept the possibility of staying in Buda.In the evening terrible news came, five hundred martyrs were buried in the abandonedtrenches.November 1, 1944, we were crossing the river on a ferry to Fort Petervarad. Kristof washobbling beside me. In his eyes, the rays of the setting sun said farewell. We heard the tolling ofthe 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 hundredcaptives stopped short at the castle gate, gasping wildly for breath . On the gate there is a bigskull and an inscription below, Memento mori!, i.e. Remember death! Why, We could not thinkof 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, "Youwon't need it any more..."In the casemates under the fortress, the atmosphere was sepulchral. People kept comingto 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 restwould 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' facesclean. 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 awound. We reached a well. Bloody water is57running from Kristof's mouth.In the afternoon he is not able to stand or walk any longer. He has received a hard blowon the leg, maybe one of his tendons is ruptured. Some are willing to carry him, but the guardshouts at us, "Put him beside the haystack!" This was a death-sentence.