When the room went dark, she heard her name. "Erzabet, be strong, be quiet, be brave. Help the other girls and watch over Fanni. I will come and get you as soon as I can, " her father Karoly said through the door. His voice held great urgency, tension, and fear. The war had come to their small village of Manfu located in Hungary. Then, much louder to the soldiers and village men, "Zoltan, Marton, go up that hill to the trees. Imre, Mihali, go up to that rock on that hill. Laszlo, you are with me. We will trap them in the valley." The men left quietly, the girls only heard silence in the cement ammunition bunker. No windows to see outside, only deep pitch-black darkness, and the awful smell of damp cement. The girls huddled close together, trying to comfort each other. They were terrified. Stories had circulated the villages about how the Serbian soldiers killed adults and sold children, especially the girls, into slavery. True or not, the stories terrified the girls into strict obedience. Only an hour before, the six girls were in the classroom learning how to knit scarves and socks for the Hungarian soldiers in preparation for war in the winter. Even at their young ages of six to eight years old, the older girls were becoming proficient at knitting socks. The younger girls determinedly worked at learning how to knit scarves. Sometimes, they would add or drop stitches causing scarves to have uneven edges. A loud explosion rumbled through the hills, the sound reaching the village of Manfu. The teacher's eyes widened in shock. "No, the Serbian Army is in the valley! They can't be that close!" she exclaimed out loud. Another explosion, and rifle fire echoed. The noise terrified the girls who started crying, as the teacher ran to the window. She peered out seeing nothing at first. Soon six soldiers were running to the school house. "Hungarian uniforms! Thank God!" she thought. The men burst into the class room. Upon seeing the girls, three of the soldiers almost broke into tears. Their daughters were still safe. Karoly hugged his three daughters, Erzebet, Rebeka, and Fanni. Zolton hugged his two daughters Zsofia and Marget. Imre hugged his daughter Vilma. As soon as they released the girls, the soldiers helped their daughters into coats and rushed them out the door, headed for the trees. The uniforms showed dirt and blood stains on the knees and elbows, obvious signs of battle. Another explosion rumbled through the hills. Serbian soldiers fighting too close to the village. Karoly led the way through the woods toward the bunker where the girls would be safe. The girls walked quietly, sadness in their fear filled eyes. The soldiers keeping vigilant watch for any Serbian scouts. After a while, the group made it close to the bunker. Imre and Mihaly scouted ahead, and soon came back to report the Serbians and taken the bunker and have their flag on the wall. Marton immediately wanted to go engage the Serbians, but Karoly, Imre, and Zolton overrode his enthusiasm. It was more important to get the girls to safety. The girls were getting fretful because of the fear and discussion among the men. The girls wanted to go back home to their mothers. Karoly put his arms around his youngest daughter Fanni. "Oh, my sweet little girl, it won't be too long, we'll get you to a safe place." Fanni hugged her daddy's neck, tears flowing. Holding Fanni, he picked her up and carried her, while the other girls followed along. The men were even more watchful for any signs of Serbian scouts. The group decided to find safety in the old ammunition bunker in the next hill. They wound their way through the trees to hide their tracks, finally arriving at the bunker. The girls eyed the ammunition bunker with distrust. It had been built into the hillside with only the door and front wall exposed. Brush had been planted to disguise the entrance. The grass covered the ground before the door. The bunker had been emptied of all ammunition, hand grenades, and rifles weeks ago in the ongoing fight with the Serbians. The door had been left open. Mihaly crept up to the door, rifle ready, pulling the door open further with the tip of the riffle. The interior was dark, with no windows to allow light. Mihaly stepped cautiously inside and came out a few moments later. "All clear!" he whispered to the group. The fathers hugged and kissed their daughters and ushered them into the bunker, then closed the door. Karoly spoke. "Erzabet, be strong, be quiet, be brave. Help the other girls and watch over Fanni. I will come and get you as soon as I can." The soldiers camouflaged the entrance, and the men went to their ambush stations. In the ammunition bunker the girls huddled together in the pitch-black darkness. For the longest time--there were no sounds. The girls started whispering, the little ones softly weeping, wanting their mothers. Erzabet rocked little Vilma, the youngest, to keep her quiet. "Sh, sh, our fathers will come get us when it is safe," cooed Erzabet. Erzabet began singing a little lullaby. "Run, Fox, Run, Little Fox Run." The lullaby calmed the girls. Then Zsofia starting singing "Spotted, Spotted, Cow, Cow, has not ears and no tail." Over and over again with different sounds. The girls started to giggle. The crack of rifle fire stopped the singing. Vilma started crying and trembling as Erzabet held her tighter. Soon the girls heard shouts, gunfire, and hand grenades exploding. First, these explosions were distant, but definitely coming closer. The fighting seemed even more intense with the night not far off. The girls didn't move or cry, they simply held on to each other. Outside the door, the battle raged on, a few shots, then more grenade explosions. Men hollering orders, men's screams of pain, more gun fire. Some of the bullets hit the cement walls of the ammunition bunker, one bullet putting a hole in the upper corner of the door. The hole in the door allowed a single beam of light into the dark room. After being in pitch black, the light beam was blinding. Even though the room was still dark, Erzabet kept shushing the others. "Don't make a noise, shush!" The girls listened and whimpered quietly. After a while, the battle outside moved away. A few grenades exploded, few rifle reports were heard. The beam of light went out as day turned into night. The temperature dropped, the cement of the floor and walls seeming to steal what little heat the girls' bodies radiated. The girls huddled together to keep warm, the youngest, Vilma on Erzabet's lap. The younger girls, as warm as they could get being cold, went into a troubled sleep. Erzabet and Zsofia were too worried to sleep. The long night stretched on, occasional rumbling explosions and gun fire kept the older girls on the edge and awake. Morning was shown by the single shaft of light through the bullet hole in the door. The girls were cold and stiff after a long night in the cold, damp bunker. They were hungry, not having eaten since the morning before. As much as Erzabet wanted to be strong and brave, time in the bunker was wearing her resolve thin. She and the other girls were exhausted. They needed to be rescued soon. Erzabet started to cry, Zsofia crawled over to her to comfort her. Soon Marget, Rebeka, and Fanni came over. The six girls huddled and cried in despair. There had been no sounds, no grenades or gun fire since sun up. Erzabet wanted so much to pound on or try to open the door, but memory of the stories of the Serbians stopped her. As the morning hours wore on, the girls became even more stiff and tired. Soon the younger girls dropped off into sleep, their skin feeling cold. Erzabet and Zsofia tried to warm them by laying with them. The older girls could no longer keep their eyes open, and drifted off into sleep. After the battle, other Hungarian solders had joined Karoly's squad. They went to retrieve the girls from the ammunition bunker. Karoly and Imre opened the door of the bunker, peering into the darkness. Then panic, the girls looked dead. Their skin cold and clammy. Karoly and Imre called to their men to get the girls out of the bunker and into the sun. Six soldiers immediately opened their coats and shirts to place each girl on their skin to warm them Each man rocked and talked to the near dead children. One by one, the girls opened their eyes and looked for their fathers, who hugged and kissed them. Even though the girls were almost out of time, they each survived to live another day.

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Erzabet

rstrutz

Roxanne L Strutz

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Erzabet

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Roxanne Strutz

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