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The person in question has given us the following information: I lived in Nagybocskó with my parents and three brothers. We had a textile shop that permitted us to live carefree. After the German invasion gendarmes took us into the ghetto of Mátészalka. We had a bad life there because Germans kept coming into the ghetto and would beat us with no reason. They took girls to sweep and scrub the streets. They took me away for work very often. They did not insult women so much but kept beating men. They deported us into Auschwitz in the beginning of June. When we got off they separated me from my parents and all my brothers. My 12-year-old brother and my mother were sent to the left side. We did know what was going to happen to them. In Auschwitz I got into block no. 14, where I stayed till the end. I worked in the laundry and the hospital. We cleaned and washed the disinfecting building after prisoners’ use. I washed the buckets for food in the kitchen. It was a monotonous work. Our provisions in the kitchen were good but incomplete. I had the opportunity to give food to my relatives and I often did, I preferred eating less. In January, I got into Ravensbrück, where real starvation started. It was terrible. I became extremely thin. We did not need to work but they gave us no food at all. 2-3 days passed without eating a bite of food. They transported us into Malchov, where there was no work to do and starvation continued. Many people fell ill. I ended up in Taucha. Rations were better here and we did not need to work. Russians were 3 kilometres from the camp when we had to carry on. We walked for two weeks eating grass on the way. We did not have a sip of water. Several of us died of starvation. The SS shot you for a single potato stolen from the fields. Finally, Americans liberated us in a little village. The following day, Russians took their place and we started having a good life. I kept visiting doctors for four weeks because one of my legs ached. I almost completely recovered. When I arrived in Hungary I learnt that three of us remained alive out of 50 relatives: my younger brother, my elder brother and me. My father and two of my brothers were together, and my 14-year-old younger brother saw my father die. My poor father got a lung disease at Easter and died of it. 8 days later my 22-year-old elder brother died, too. His enfeebled system could not suffer the death of my father and he followed him. Now, I would very much like to go to Palestine. I have to wait till my younger brother recovers as he lies now in hospital with pleurisy.

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