Samu and Juliska’s Story 
Following the Whispers of the Heart

    The story of Noémi’s life began with a tale of love that evolved into a never-ending bond between her parents, Samu and Juliska—a tender partnership strengthened by years of mutual affection and respect. Their inspiring relationship developed slowly, deepened rapidly, and ended tragically. Because of their love and devotion, Noémi’s early years were filled with security and family unity, and those memories gave her strength throughout her life. This is the story of how Samu and Juliska met and the challenges they faced during World War I. 

    It was in the year 1914 that Samu Schönberger, a student at the Jewish Teachers’ College in Budapest, first became acquainted with Juliska, who was then in her mid-teens. Samu, tall and slender with curly, dark-brown hair, was on his way to a meeting of the Organization of Jewish Teachers in the Austro-Hungarian city of Szeged when he decided to stop by the home of a college classmate, his distant cousin Sándor, who was two years younger than Samu and thus referred to by classmates as the “little Schönberger.” Samu’s glasses gave him a studious look that belied his sense of fun and adventure. Samu had been looking forward to exploring Szeged, a tranquil city close to Austria-Hungary’s southern border, known for its wide avenues, graceful buildings and a synagogue said to be one of the most beautiful in the world. Samu discovered that Sándor and his younger sister and brother were home, but their parents and two other siblings were visiting family members in another city. In the mother’s absence, Sándor’s sister, Juliska, took on the responsibility of setting the table and preparing the dinner. A petite adolescent with big brown eyes and thick, black hair hanging in two long braids down her back, Juliska spoke little, but showed interest in Samu by frequently glancing at him with a shy smile. Although Juliska sat across from Samu during the meal, he could barely see her because she kept placing a vase of flowers in front of her, obscuring his view of her face. Each time Samu moved the vase in order to more easily speak with Juliska, she silently and persistently moved the vase to its original location.

    In January of 1916, just before his twentieth birthday, Samu was drafted to serve in the Austro-Hungarian army and was deployed to the Russian Front. Like many young men his age who were called to serve in World War I, he wasn’t eager to leave his work as a teacher to become a soldier, but he had no choice. Away from his family and friends, Samu spent much of his free time writing letters home. As Samu described it years later, one lonely day he suddenly—like a bolt of lightning—thought of Juliska and decided to send her a letter. Unfortunately, Samu had forgotten her name so he addressed the letter to Ilonka—a mistake that she promptly corrected in her reply. Samu wrote again, asking her to forgive him and promising to never again forget her name.

    Months later, Samu was taken captive by the Russian army and imprisoned in Siberia. Prisoners of war were allowed to correspond with family and friends, so Samu continued writing home. When Samu received a letter from his oldest brother, Simon, that included an introductory photograph of Simon’s fiancée, the guards misunderstood and teased Samu about having a girlfriend. But that gave Samu an idea. He decided to write to Juliska, asking for her photograph. Samu didn’t know if he would ever see her again, so the picture she sent became one of his most treasured possessions—a link to Juliska that he cherished throughout his life. He thanked her for the photograph, ending the letter with a new phrase, “My good-bye comes from my heart.” After that, Samu began sending more personal messages in a secret code, underlining certain letters to form phrases expressing his love for the young woman he had met only once, when they were both still teenagers.

    Conditions in the prison camp deteriorated in 1917 after the Bolshevik uprising led to civil war throughout Russia. Although Russia soon withdrew from World War I, Samu’s imprisonment dragged on, and the months of constant hunger, forced labor, and severe weather turned into years. Samu began to wonder if he would survive. Filled with anguish and hopelessness, Samu wrote a poem for Juliska who he now considered the love of his life.

    Samu continued to endure the harsh conditions in Siberia until the Russians finally released him in 1921 after almost five years of imprisonment. Although elated to be free, Samu soon faced new challenges, especially because he lacked the identification papers needed to return home. He carried deportation orders issued by the Russian government, but because the Austro-Hungarian Empire—the country where he lived before the war—had dissolved during his time in Russia, Samu needed a passport to enter what was now the Kingdom of Hungary. He also discovered that the Hungarian government was suspicious of soldiers returning from Bolshevik Russia. Concerned that the released prisoners would promote communism, Hungarian government officials were making little effort to help the survivors return home. 

    Samu’s first attempt to return to Hungary involved using a small boat to cross the river separating Czechoslovakia from Hungary. However, when the Czechoslovakian border patrol found him on the shore of the river and chased him away, Samu realized he needed a more elaborate plan. Samu’s second attempt involved crossing a stream, with a friend waiting on the Hungarian side ready to vouch that Samu was, in fact, Hungarian. Samu brought two bottles of wine to use as a bribe if officials tried to stop him. Samu realized he was in trouble when a Czechoslovakian border guard fired a shot at his friend on the Hungarian side of the border. The guard, violently angry when Samu attempted to bribe him with the wine, grabbed Samu, saying, “You are a Jew! You deserve a good beating. Put up your hands!” He then put his rifle on Samu’s knee and began to finger the trigger. Samu was sure his life was over. Minutes later, Samu said a prayer of thanks when the border guard removed the gun. To his astonishment, the guard and his partner offered Samu dinner at their headquarters before they expelled him from the area and put him on a train headed for another Czechoslovakian town, Komárno.

    Samu happened to have an uncle who lived across the border from Komárno, so he sent word asking for his uncle’s assistance. In a series of notes sent across the river, they agreed that Samu would enter Hungary using an official border crossing. At the agreed upon time, Samu showed the Czechoslovakian border guards his deportation order, explained that he had no passport, and then rapidly walked across the bridge hoping he would not be detained by Hungarian guards. Once across, Samu was astonished to see his brother, Simon, discretely waiting for him. Simon whispered to Samu, “We need to rush so we can catch the train leaving for Budapest in fifteen minutes.” As they hurried along, an impatient Hungarian army lieutenant stopped them, yelling, “Who are you? Identify yourselves! Where are you two going in such a hurry? Why don’t you answer? Are you deaf and dumb?” He turned first to Simon, who gave his name and address, and then to Samu. It was apparent that the lieutenant had been drinking when he began to laugh uproariously before ordering them to the army headquarters saying, “Early in the morning a pair of brothers. Forward, march! One, two! To the barracks! Now!” Simon and Samu didn’t move. Simon stood at attention and said, “Sir Lieutenant, I want to inform you that I am also an officer, second lieutenant in the reserves.” The lieutenant broke into cruel laughter, asking, “What? You are a second lieutenant? You are just a dirty Jew. Forward! March!”

    People in the street began to gather, the crowd growing larger as the lieutenant continued with his drunken rant. A policeman approached, and the lieutenant ordered him to take Samu and Simon to the army barracks. As they walked toward the barracks, Simon immediately began conversing with the policeman. After Simon showed his officer’s certificate, the policeman began addressing him as “Sir Second Lieutenant.” When Samu produced his deportation order and explained that he was a teacher who had been drafted into the army and held captive in Siberia, the policeman agreed to take them to the border patrol office where Samu again shared his story. No one was surprised when the Hungarian border officials immediately escorted Samu back to Czechoslovakia. Simon reluctantly took the next train home, knowing that his parents, eagerly waiting to see Samu for the first time in five years, would be tremendously disappointed to see him returning alone.

    After this third attempt failed, Samu decided he needed to acquire a passport. However, he knew it would be almost impossible to obtain a Hungarian passport because he had no proof of Hungarian citizenship. Another strike against him was that he was returning from Bolshevik Russia—an enemy region under Communist control. Undeterred, Samu decided to try the impossible—to get home using a Czechoslovakian passport but without an entrance visa to Hungary. Someone told Samu about a local Jewish leader who was sympathetic to Hungarian soldiers attempting to return home, so he traveled to the man’s small village and approached the man, explaining his dilemma. Samu was grateful when the kindhearted Jewish elder agreed to arrange for the Czechoslovakian passport. With passport in hand, Samu boarded a train headed into Hungary.

    Once the train crossed the border, Samu handed over his passport, nervously waiting as each passenger stepped forward for inspection. The second lieutenant in charge finally called Samu’s name, and mockingly queried, “What are you doing here without an entrance visa?” Samu briefly shared his story, surprised that the soldier was closely paying attention. Unexpectedly, the official asked, “Are you really a teacher?” to which Samu immediately replied, “Yes, really.” Then came the next question: “Where did you go to Teachers’ College?” Samu politely replied, “In Budapest, at the Jewish Teachers’ Seminary.” The soldier shook Samu’s hand, saying, “I’m also a teacher. I respect and admire you and wish you well. Now hurry, the train to Budapest is already moving.” Two and a half hours later, Samu finally arrived home—after five long years.

    Seeing his family was important to Samu, but, more than anything, he wanted to travel to Szeged to see Juliska—the woman who had captured his heart. However, as he described it years later, Samu felt he was “between a rock and a hard place.” The rock was Samu’s commitment to his mother and father and his desire to follow their wishes. The hard place was his love for Juliska and his desire to ask for her hand in marriage. Samu’s parents didn’t want him to marry—out of respect for his sister, Lina, who had not yet found a husband. Samu, feeling torn and uncertain, turned to his older brother, Simon, seeking his opinion on the matter. Simon advised him, “Do what your heart whispers to you.” Hearing this, Samu had his answer—and his thoughts immediately turned to Juliska.

    Unfortunately, Samu wasn’t free to travel to Szeged until he first reported for questioning at the army’s infamous camp near Csót, where he would be officially discharged only after successfully passing interviews and any follow-up investigations. Samu dreaded going because he was well aware that he, like other former prisoners, would face questions about his capture and his behavior as a prisoner and forced laborer. Most importantly, officials would want to know who could vouch for his loyalty to Hungary. Samu felt like the interviews were hanging over his head “like the sword of Damocles.” It wasn’t uncommon for a soldier to be required to wait at the army camp for weeks before the process was completed and the appropriate documentation obtained.

    Samu was incredibly relieved when he recognized a major who had been imprisoned with him, confident that the senior officer would vouch for the legitimacy of his captivity and his patriotism. The major immediately issued the certificate of honorable discharge, smiling as he said, “You are lucky, Samu. Mazel Tov.” Samu’s friends also congratulated him on his luck securing such a rapid release, calling it a “national wonder.” Samu breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for his good fortune especially after all of the troubles, sorrow, and suffering of the previous five years.

    Anxious to speak with Juliska, Samu soon boarded a train bound for Szeged. Arriving at her home, he took a deep breath, realizing that they hadn’t seen each other for almost six years and remembering how timid she had been at their first meeting. Samu entered the hallway where he had first spoken to Juliska years earlier, nervous about the reunion he had dreamed about endlessly while in prison. Overwhelmed with emotion as Juliska once again shyly greeted him, Samu was silent until he had a chance to step close to her, whispering the secret words he had hidden in his letters from Siberia—“Of you, I have always dreamt.” In that moment, Juliska kissed him—their very first kiss.

    The awkwardness soon disappeared as Samu and Juliska began enthusiastically chatting about the past and about their future. Juliska’s face lit up as she described eagerly opening Samu’s letters and how they had raised her spirits when, bedridden while recovering from the Spanish flu in 1919, she had read and reread each letter, finally discovering that Samu was using a secret code to send her love messages. They continued talking as Samu walked Juliska to the office where she worked as a secretary for Immanuel Löw—a rabbi, author, and politician known throughout Hungary. While Samu was in Siberia, Juliska had graduated from a well-respected Jewish school in Szeged and was enjoying the challenging work in the rabbi’s office. Samu complimented Juliska for being chosen for such an important position.

    Samu and Juliska met again later that day, with Samu sharing details of his difficult journey home. Samu considered their visit that afternoon an unofficial marriage proposal. The official proposal came a few hours later as Juliska’s brother, Sándor, was walking Samu to the train station, and Samu asked, “Do you have any problems with the idea of me becoming more than a friend? I would like to become your brother-in-law.” Sándor answered with a warm smile and enthusiastic hug, which prompted Samu to ask his future brother-in-law to share those last words with his family. That was the formal marriage proposal, accepted by both Juliska and her parents. Within days, Juliska excitedly posted a letter telling Samu about an opening for a religious instructor in Szeged’s Jewish high school, and Samu moved to Szeged as soon as he received word that he was hired. On December 27, 1921, Samu married Juliska, the woman he loved with all of his heart.

The poem Samu wrote for Juliska when he was imprisoned in Siberia during World War I:

Why? And for how long?

Do you know?

You the beauty of my world,

Do you feel it?

You the most beautiful on this earth,

Why? The yearning hurts, it is burning.

Why? And for how long?

Did you notice, dear soul?

Did you comprehend the wish of my heart?

Do you feel the hope, my yearning?

Why? And for how long?

I will always wait for you

My yearning is limitless

Where is the end of my sorrow?

Why? And for how long?

On the wings of my yearning

I fly toward you

But to arrive, to get to you

I have not the strength anymore

Maybe you have forgotten me?

Why? And for how long?

My soul is tired

My body is weak

I am standing at the edge of my grave

My grave is waiting for me with its peace

Without you, why would I want to live?

Why? And for how long?