An Eyewitness in Hungary

Half-way through the morning the barrier was lifted and a car came through and drew up in front of the customs house. Inside were German Red Cross men and a German journalist. The car was full of food and medical supplies; something had happened at the town of Magyardvar, ten minutes drive along the main road to Gyor. They did not know what, but it was reported that many were wounded. They intended to leave the supplies at Magyarbvar and then try to get through to Budapest to see what was needed there. I begged for a place in the car and they agreed to squeeze up and take me. Soon we were speeding through the Kis Alfold, Hungary’s Little Plain, a countryside of harvested fields as monotonously flat as my native Holderness, and that was the only comforting feature of this plunge into the unknown. In Hegyeshalom village, a few minutes away, adults stared at our car and children waved. But there were not many people about. In Magyarovar the streets were packed, and the car was at...