crawl on all fours so we wouldn’t be detected by either the Soviet army or the Hungarian guards. We had to go through several wooded areas with very thick brush. My dad was carrying a backpack and a small suitcase. My job was to push the branches out of the way to clear a path so we could keep moving. My hands and arms were scratched and bleeding from the thorns and the thick brush, but we couldn’t stop because it was going to get dark early and everyone seemed eager to reach our destination while it was still light outside. I began to wonder what the real purpose of this dangerous adventure was, but I was afraid to ask any questions.
We ran out of water by noon, and everyone became increasingly thirsty as the day wore on. At one point our group got separated as we crossed over railroad tracks. As I recall, some of the men thought that thirty people walking in one group would be too conspicuous. They decided we needed to be very careful and so we split into two groups. The family with twins got separated from each other—one baby and his dad were with us, and the other and his mother were with the other group. The mood was somber, and people were very quiet. My instincts told me not to ask any questions and to simply keep walking.
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