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Szabadsag at 70

A young Hungarian girl, Erika Kornélia Szeles, emerges from a building housing resistance fighters in Budapest, carrying a Mauser, November 1956. Note the knocked-out Soviet ISU-152 heavy self-propelled gun casually in the background. Photo by Danish journalist Vagn Hansen. 

After 11 years under a generally disliked Soviet occupation, a series of quiet events led to a full-blown rebellion in Budapest, with ripples across Hungary, in late October-early November 1956, remembered today in the country as the 1956 Revolution (1956-os forradalom).

At the time, the Soviets only had a two-division Special Corps in the country, along with forward elements of three other divisions, about 20,000-30,000 men depending on the season and the regular annual arrival and departure of conscripts.

In typical Russian style, the pushback was handled poorly and sparked a heavy, armor-led response against the Hungarian populace. The engagements were sharp, with the Soviet Operation Whirlwind (Operation Vikhr) deploying as many as 12 fresh divisions from the Carpathian and Kyiv Military Districts in the USSR, as well as units moved in from neighboring Romania, with upwards of 2,000 tanks and armored vehicles.

By comparison, the Hungarian People’s Army (Magyar Néphadsereg) had approximately 120,000 troops organized into 9 active ground divisions and supporting air components. While its officer corps, with dual command held by Red commissars (known in Hungarian as politikai tiszt, or political officers), was largely paralyzed, many Hungarian troops joined the rebellion, bringing small arms with them.

The cry of “Szabadság” (freedom, liberty) and “Ruszkik, haza!” (“Russians, go home!”) was a common refrain. The Hungarians had fought the Russians in 1812, 1848-49, 1914-18, and 1941-45, the latter including a brutal 50-day Red Army siege of Budapest that killed some 38,000 of its residents, so you can see the historic enmity.

Over the first week of November, the Soviets lost at least 699 killed, 51 missing (or deserted), and 1,980 wounded in Hungary, according to Russian military historian General G. F. Krivosheev.

These losses came primarily in the 8th and 9th districts around the Corvin Passage (Corvin köz) and Móricz Zsigmond körtér along with the Kilian Barracks, where Hungarian freedom fighters used anti-tank tactics and Molotov cocktails in narrow streets to good effect.

Additionally, defecting Hungarian Army units–specifically Colonel Pál Maléter and men of the 1st Hungarian Armored Division–brought formal military anti-tank guns and 76mm field artillery into the city defense. They were joined by members of the irregular National Guards (Nemzetőrség), many of whom had fought the Soviets on the Eastern Front just a decade earlier.

Although the figures are all over the place and the Russians never officially owned up to them, photos from the battle show somewhere around 50 tanks (primarily WWII-era T-34-85s, along with several newer T-54s and a small number of IS-3 heavies) and 60 APCs (mainly BTR-40 and BTR-150), augmented by a few SPGs (ISU-152s and SU-76Ms), destroyed or abandoned to the rebels, with several hundred others damaged.

For NATO intelligence, the appearance of the AKM carbine, BTRs, and T-54s was of keen interest, although there were few assets on the ground to exploit them.

For many in the West, images of destroyed Russian armor were a joy to behold.

The butcher’s bill paid by the rebels was high, with some 3,000 Hungarians killed and over 20,000 wounded. When the smoke cleared, something like 35,000 were arrested and at least 229 executed– including the good Colonel Pál Maléter. Another 1,000 Hungarians were deported to labor camps in the USSR.

Over 200,000 Hungarians (almost 2 percent of the total population) fled the country as refugees, mostly escaping across the Austrian border before it was sealed. Many of these exiles would later show up in the French Foreign Legion and U.S. Army Special Forces, the latter courtesy of the Lodge Act, where their native language skills, deep knowledge of Warsaw Pact geography, and tactical experience fighting Soviet armor were prized.

As for the Soviets after 1956, they kept as many as 100,000 troops and upwards of 27,000 vehicles in Hungary for the rest of the Cold War, typically two tank divisions, two motor rifle divisions, Spetsnaz units, an air army, and a long logistics train across some 100 garrisons. This included another 30,000–40,000 civilian family members and support staff. The message was clear: the Red Army wasn’t going anywhere.

After the fall of the Berlin Wall and the thawing of East-West relations, Moscow finally began withdrawing to its own borders, and 15 drawn-out months later, the last military transport train left Hungary on 16 June 1991.

Soviet Southern Group of Forces commander, Lt. Gen. Viktor Silov, crossed the border into Ukraine three days later, ending nearly 47 years of unwelcome military presence.

Zveroboy #196

Whenever October-November starts creeping in, I find myself thinking in of the men and women of The Corvin (Kisfaludy) Passage. Those freedom fighters in the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 held out against the Soviets and the country’s puppet regime in bitter street fighting that pitted a handful of insurgents with largely small arms against a modern Eastern European military force that had cut its teeth in nasty house-to-house combined arms operations a generation before.

Among the hottest parts of Budapest during the conflict was the Corvin Cinema, which was used as the headquarters of revolution leader László Iván Kovács. The narrow streets around the cinema allowed Kovacs’ 1,000~ irregulars to hold off a full Soviet mechanized infantry division, and, using Molotov cocktails and improvised anti-tank weapons, the Covin group knocked out 12 tanks including a few massive ISU-152s– itself a heavy assault gun fielded by the Soviets in the last days of WWII. Termed the zveroboy (Russian: “beast killer”) it was designed to smash through concrete bunkers and Panther/Tiger tanks with ease.

The Covin group held their position for 15 days. But one of the most iconic fixtures from Corvin captured by Western journalists covering the fighting was ISU-152 #196 and its partner, abandoned by its crew along József Boulevard.

Street fighters with PPS sub guns and swagger

It can be seen in a number of images from those days.

An M44 Mosin-armed Hungarian soldier, wearing an armband marking his defection to the anti-Communist insurgents.

A young Hungarian girl emerges from a building housing resistance fighters carrying a Mauser. 196 is a street cart

Note the knocked out T-34/85 in the right

I can’t find out what happened to #196. The Soviets likely scrapped it as to not be a lesson to those that the iron giant could be stopped by determination. That the beast-killer itself was a monster when viewed through the lens of those in Budapest.

As for the fighters, it is estimated that the three-week Revolution resulted in the combat deaths of 722 Soviet troops and some 2,500-3,000 Hungarians. To this figure can be added some 253 Hungarians executed or died in prison for their part in the Revolution.

Three pipehitters from the Corvin Passage, 60 years ago this month

The below image by Peter Dennis via MHE shows off a motley group of three freedom fighters in the Hungarian Revolution of October-November 1956 against the Soviets and the country’s puppet regime who would all lose their lives in the bitter fighting and subsequent repression.

the-corvin-cinema-belane-havrilla-mesz-janos-jozef-tibor-fejes
From left to right, they are the real life Belane Havrilla, Mesz Janos, and Jozef Tibor Fejes. In the background, note the flag with the central motif cut out, and the captured 76.2mm anti-tank gun with the traditional coat-of-arms being painted on the gun shield.

They are depicted in front of the Corvin Cinema in Budapest, which was used as the headquarters of revolution leader László Iván Kovács. The narrow streets around the cinema allowed Kovacs’ 1,000~ irregulars to hold off a full Soviet mechanized infantry division, and, using Molotov cocktails and improvised anti-tank weapons, the Covin group knocked out 12 tanks including a few massive ISU-152s.

The Covin group held their position for 15 days.

Each of the three Covin group rebels shown below had their own story. Many were captured in a series of photos by LIFE’s Michael Rougier, which were sadly in some cases used by security officials after the uprising to track down rebels.

MTI Photo: Laszlo Toth

MTI Photo: Laszlo Toth

Béláné Havrilla was born in 1932, one of five children, growing up partly in an orphanage. She worked in a textile factory; married in 1952, but soon divorced; worked as a cleaner, then in a lamp factory. On 24 October she took part in the protests, joining the Corvin group first as a nurse, and later taking up arms herself, usually fighting together with Maria Wittner (shown with PPSh to the right).

Dennis: Photos show that she equipped herself with a khaki padded jacket (differing slightly from the regulation military model in having no side pockets); large stocks of these jackets were kept at Army depots and they were often worn by insurgents in the increasingly cold weather. Here the jacket is not fastened but closed in ‘female’ (right over left) style, and held fast by the Sam Browne-type belt; she has added a national armband to the left sleeve. She has a standard Mosin-Nagant M91/30 infantry rifle in addition to a holstered pistol.

mesz-janos-janko-with-the-wooden-leg

János Mesz was born in 1931, one of 12 children in a worker’s family in Pecs. He spent part of his youth in a home for destitute children, and worked at various times as a gardener, a miner and in a factory. He lost his leg in an accident when run over by a suburban train. In 1956 he joined the ‘Corvinites’ – according to recollections he introduced himself as an officer (which was not true), but actually proved to be a fine gunner, commanding his group’s artillery. He was wounded in the head when his anti-tank gun (or 122mm howitzer – accounts vary) was hit and both his two helpers were killed; several photos show him as here, with a bandaged jaw. On 27 October he saved the lives of two injured Soviet soldiers who were taken prisoner.

Dennis: Here he wears a khaki Army M-51 uniform jacket without insignia apart from a narrow sleeve band in national colors, trousers of apparently the same shade, and a civilian fedora hat. He armed himself with a Mosin-Nagant M44 carbine and a PPSh-41 submachine gun; he also carried stick grenades in a canvas pouch for a PPSh drum magazine, and slung an extra 7.62mm machine gun cartridge belt around his body.

fejes

This newswire photo is stamped by the Hungarian Security Police in the corner

jozsef-tibor-fejes-rs jozsef-tibor-fejes-the-bowler-hatted-hungarian-revolutionary-who-in-1956-is-considered-to-be-the-first-person-ever-to-have-wielded-a-captured-ak-47-in-battle
Born in 1934 into a workers’ family, Fejes, known as “Keménykalapos,” the man in the bowler hat, spent his childhood in an orphanage after his parents divorced. While still a child he was transferred to Transylvania to work, spent some time in a correctional home, and only returned to Hungary in January 1956. In October he was with the crowd tearing down the Stalin statue, and was among the first members of the Corvin group.

Dennis: He is shown here wearing typical workers’ dress – a mid-blue loose shirt and trousers, with heavy laced boots. Over this he wears a lady’s dark grey jacket (note the buttons on the left), and a knitted scarf apparently of sand-colored wool. When photographed he was well armed with a captured AK-47 assault rifle; on his belt are two leather rifle cartridge pouches – probably he had had a Mosin-Nagant before laying his hands on the Kalashnikov. Slung from his shoulder is a thermos bottle.

Cj Chivers in his book on the AK47, The Gun, calls Fejes the first known insurgent to use a captured AK in warfare (the AKM was only issued to front-line Soviet troops at the time).

“He did so before Fidel Castro, before Yasser Arafat, before Idi Amin. He was years ahead of the flag of Zimbabwe, which would expropriate the AK-47 as a symbol. He was ahead of Shamil Basayev and Osama bin Laden, who would convert the product of an atheist state into a sign of unsparing jihad. József Tibor Fejes was the first of the world’s Kalashnikov-toting characters, a member of a pantheon’s inaugural class.”-– Chivers

All three perished soon after their resistance.

On 7 November Havrilla managed to escape to Austria, but on the urging of her boyfriend returned in December. She was arrested on 25 July 1957, and executed on 26 February 1959. Mária Wittner, shown above with Havrilla, was also sentenced to death. Her sentence was commuted to life imprisonment and she was released in 1970. She was subsequently awarded the Grand Cross star, as well as Ministers of silver and gold medals in 1991 by the new government.

On 4 November Mesz was mortally wounded.

As for the bowler hat man, Fejes quickly went home on November 5th after the pocket fell but was identified from press photographs, and was arrested in April 1957, and executed on 9 April 1959 for allegedly shooting State Police Lt. János Balassa— with his captured AK.

In all some 253 Hungarians were executed or died in prison for their part in the Revolution by the government. The Hungarian State Security Police (Államvédelmi Hatóság, ÁVH) was very efficient.

It is estimated that the three-week Revolution resulted in the combat deaths of 722 Soviet troops and some 2,500-3,000 Hungarians.