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My Explosive Life
My Explosive Life
My Explosive Life
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My Explosive Life

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I grew up during the times leading up to and during the Second World War. We were concerned with preparation for air raids, damage control and rescue. The science subjects were slanted in this direction also. I may have had a special inclination toward this field. Various military subjects, compulsory at college, enhanced my interest. Then after I got my engineering degree my employment at Nitrokmia RT., the explosives manufacturer, and under the leadership of Dr. Lszl Demny launched my professional career.
After the war, as a chemical engineer I was involved with the most explosive chemicals as industrial intermediates, like acetylene and ethylene oxide. The processes to make those involved oxidation, where explosive limits of the raw materials and their intermediates were a significant consideration. In turn, this lead to the study of thermal runaways and ignition processes.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris US
Release dateFeb 21, 2012
ISBN9781465356345
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    My Explosive Life - József M. Berty

    My Explosive Life

    József M. Berty

    with Orsolya E. Berty

    Copyright © 2012 by József M. Berty.

    Library of Congress Control Number:       2011915182

    ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4653-5633-8

                       Softcover                                 978-1-4653-5632-1

                       Ebook                                      978-1-4653-5634-5

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

    This book was printed in the United States of America.

    To order additional copies of this book, contact:

    Xlibris Corporation

    1-888-795-4274

    www.Xlibris.com

    Orders@Xlibris.com

    91618

    Contents

    Dedication

    Introduction

    ANCESTRY

    1  AN ETHNICALLY CLEANSED FAMILY

    2  MY FATHER, THE ALLEGED WAR CRIMINAL (József Bertics-Berty, 1890-1955)

    3  MY MOTHER, THE PEACEMAKER (Klára Morzsányi, 1896-1986)

    4  GIZELLA, MY WIFE (1924-2009)

    5  LÁSZLÓ, OUR FIRST BORN (1946-1999)

    EDUCATION

    6  EARLY EDUCATION

    7  HIGH SCHOOL (1932-1940)

    8  LIVING IN A POLICE BARRACK

    9  AN EXPLODING ARROW AND A THERMITE BOMB

    10  INDIAN EXERCISES IN BRAVERY

    11  MY FRIEND BILL, THE ROTTWEILER

    12  SAVING LIVES AS BOY SCOUTS (1939)

    13  LEARNING AN OBSCURE TRADE

    WORLDWAR II

    14  SKIING ON AN AVALANCHE (1943)

    15  SENIOR YEAR AT THE UNIVERSITY (1943-1944)

    16  SHELTER UNDER A TRAIN

    17  REFINING IN AN EXPLOSIVES FACTORY

    18  DELIVERING HIGH EXPLOSIVES

    19  MY MILITARY CAREER

    20  TESTING AND DESTROYING EXPLOSIVES

    21  OUR HONEYMOON (1945)

    UNDER SOVIET RULE

    22  A RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

    23  REBUILDING OUR LIVES

    24  CONTINUED EDUCATION AND THE START OF OUR FAMILY

    25  THE HUNGARIAN OIL AND GAS RESEARCH INSTITUTE—MAFKI (1950-56)

    26  THE COMEDY OF TERRORS (TOP SECRET)

    27  THE NIGHT VISITOR

    FREE AND IN THE USA

    28  THE BERTY FAMILY’S ESCAPE FROM COMMUNIST-CONTROLLED HUNGARY (1957)

    29  LIVING IN THE UNITED STATES

    30  THE MARRIAGE OF MY BROTHER TOM

    31  THE POLKA-DOT CAR

    32  MY TENURE AT UNION CARBIDE

    33  THE FULBRIGHT YEAR IN EUROPE

    34  ON THE HEADWATERS OF THE AMAZON

    35  ON MY OWN, AT THE UNIVERSITY OF AKRON AND IN ALLENTOWN

    36  CONCLUDING THOUGHTS

    POSTSCRIPT

    IMAGES_Page_04.jpg

    József 80 years ago

    DEDICATION

    This book is dedicated to my late parents, József and Klára Berty with my apologies, who were worried for me for plenty of reason, and to my high-school chemistry teacher, József Weber, who implanted in me the love of chemistry and the spirit of experimentation. It is also dedicated mostly to my wife, Gizella, my love and my best friend, who lived with me through our worst and best adventures. I owe thanks to my children: László, Béla, Péter, Annamária, Orsolya, and Imre, who were constantly urging me to tell them the stories of my youth and that resulted in this book. I also owe a lot to my grandchildren Ryan, Tas, Spencer, and Sophie who fell asleep faster than I during my storytelling.

    But most of all I owe a lot thanks and apologies to my Guardian Angel for keeping him busy with my mistakes and adventures. I hope God will reward him for the extra time he had to put in to keep me alive.

    INTRODUCTION

    I grew up during the times leading up to and during the Second World War. We were concerned with preparation for air raids, damage control and rescue. The science subjects were slanted in this direction also. I may have had a special inclination toward this field. Various military subjects, compulsory at college, enhanced my interest. Then after I got my engineering degree my employment at Nitrokémia RT., the explosives manufacturer, and under the leadership of Dr. László Demény launched my professional career.

    After the war, as a chemical engineer I was involved with the most explosive chemicals as industrial intermediates, like acetylene and ethylene oxide. The processes to make those involved oxidation, where explosive limits of the raw materials and their intermediates were a significant consideration. In turn, this lead to the study of thermal runaways and ignition processes.

    In the following chapters I narrate some of my experiences with the hope that you will find them interesting. Just don’t fall asleep while reading—the story may explode.

    ANCESTRY

    CHAPTER 1

    AN ETHNICALLY CLEANSED FAMILY

    As you may remember after World War I, the peace treaty was signed at Versailles, in France. In this treaty, the historic Hungary was cut up and Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia were formed. Czechoslovakia was formed out of Bohemia and Moravia (both Austrian-ruled territories) and the northern part of Hungary. Yugoslavia was formed from Serbia, Montenegro, Bosnia, Herzegovina, and the southern part of Hungary. Romania was enlarged by receiving Transylvania from Hungary. With this, one multinational country was eliminated and three new multinational countries were formed. All three got a significant Hungarian minority and more than 60% of the land of historic Hungary.

    The three newly formed states (Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, and Romania) formed an entente against Hungary since they were concerned by the revisionist tendency in the mutilated Hungary. As described by Montgomery¹: No one could be in Hungary very long without knowing that ‘nem, nem, soha’ meant ‘no, no, never’ and it referred to the boundaries fixed by the treaty of Trianon. If Japan had defeated us (i.e. the US) and made Canada and Mexico her satellites and given Texas to the latter and most of New England to the former and annexed California and Oregon, something similar to the nem, nem, soha would probably have appeared in our flower beds, on our mountain slopes and would have burned in our hearts. It is very hard for one not intimately acquainted with the history of Hungary to understand what revision meant to Hungarians, but if we would think of it in terms of our own country, we would better appreciate the fanaticism with which Hungarians clung at that time of my arrival to the idea to some sort of revision of the Treaty of Trianon.

    The new states executed an ethnic cleansing. During the ethnic cleansing after WWI, some needed professionals were tolerated. The poorest farmers, with little land, could also stay. Landholders, officials of the former Hungarian government, teachers, and some clergy had to leave. During the initial period while zealots and extremists were roaming around, and before a new civilian order could be established the occupying forces killed some people. Others were just expelled.

    We are Hungarians by birth, both my wife and I, and Magyars by feeling, but none of our parents or ancestors was born in present-day Hungary. My father was born in Bácska, in southern Hungary, which is part of Yugoslavia since WWI and now part of Serbia. My mother was born in northern Hungary, in the Tátra Mountain region that became part of Czechoslovakia after WWI and is Slovakia now. Both families were ethnically cleansed out from their birthplace and they considered themselves lucky not to lose their lives. The new regime confiscated all their properties and both families fled to Budapest. There my parents met, married, and raised a family between the two World Wars. My wife’s parents, Etelka Stampf and Árpád Béla Rézeky, are from the southwestern end of Transylvania that was part of Hungary until the end of WWI. One part of it was given to Romania and part to Yugoslavia. They were ethnically cleansed out too. They escaped to Budapest also.

    My father was commissioned as First Lieutenant in the Austro-Hungarian Army in 1910 and made commander of a Croatian speaking company in Osiek, Croatia, then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. At the end of WWI, as a former Captain of the army, he could not go back to this birthplace, by then in Yugoslavia. He left the army and got a commission in the Hungarian police force as a Lieutenant.

    After losing all property on both sides, my refugee parents were married in 1921 and they started to build a family. I was born next year. My first brother was born in 1926 but died within a few months. My second brother was born in 1931 and he lives in California now. In the difficult times, after a lost war and the depression of the 1930’s, my parents managed to make a decent home, gave my brother and me the best education, including at the Technical University of Budapest. They even could buy a building lot for retirement, but never had enough money to build a house. Then came WWII and we lost everything again. I will tell details later.

    By 1944, I earned a degree in engineering and got married to Gizella in 1945. After WWII, as a young engineer, I worked hard, and received my doctorate in engineering in 1950. In my home, in addition to my wife and children, I supported my parents, and my brother who was finishing the Technical University. In a few years, we had four children and even a semi-decent rented flat. Then, the 1956 Hungarian Revolution came. Very soon, we gave up everything and escaped to Austria. In June 1957, we arrived in the United States as refugees to start a new life again with five children, the fifth born in Austria. By this time, it became a family tradition to lose everything and start over again.

    replacement_map.jpg

    Map of Hungary, with birthplaces of the grandparents of

    Tas, Spencer, and Sophie Berty marked

    This map is based on the map Magyarország Feldarabolása Trianononban (Hungary’s Dismemberment in Trianon) from the book entitled, Vázlatos Magyar Történelem", by Zoltán Bocsay ISBN 0934214123 (0-934214-12-3); published by the Hungarian Boy Scout Association of Cleveland, Ohio: www.huscoutusa.com [1=Hungary post Treaty of Trianon (Versailles); 2=Slovakia; 3= Romania; 4=Yugoslavia (Today is Serbia, Croatia, and Slovenia); 5=Austria]

    CHAPTER 2

    MY FATHER, THE ALLEGED WAR CRIMINAL

    (József Bertics-Berty, 1890-1955)

    He was born in 1890 into a large family as the third of seven children in a small agricultural—fishing village of Vajszka across the Danube from Vukovar at that time, in Bácska region of Southern Hungary in 1890. The village population was mostly Hungarians, some Germans and a few Croats and very few Serbs. My grandfather was a schoolteacher and the Cantor at the Catholic Church. They had some land that was cultivated by sharecroppers. After grammar school my father went to a military academy and graduated as First Lieutenant in 1910. His first combat duty was to command a Croatian speaking company to occupy Bosnia after the Turks withdraw. Early in W.W.I., as he led his company on an attack against the Serb trenches he was hit on the face by a bullet. The assault collapsed and my father was left on the battlefield presumed to be dead. During the cold winter night he regained his consciousness and crawled back to the Hungarian trenches. His recovery took more than a year. His face was left disfigured for the rest of his life.

    After release from the hospital he volunteered for front-line duty again and he got wounded a few more times. At the end of W.W.I. he, as a Captain of the Austro-Hungarian army, could not return to this home that was by then occupied by the Serb army. He resigned his army commission and joined the Hungarian Police force as a Lieutenant. He was classified as a wounded veteran with 50% disability and therefore he could have retired by the late 1930s. He had enough war decorations to receive the Hungarian knighthood of Vitéz but since he had Jewish friends he was not invited to apply for it. Soon the shadow of a new war was spreading and he was retained in active duty since the younger generation of police officers was needed in building a new army.

    During W.W.II, Bácska territory where Vajszka was (that was annexed by Yugoslavia at the end of W.W.I) was occupied by the Hungarian army. Finally my father got a chance to visit his birthplace and the cemetery where his parents and grandparents were buried. At the end of W.W.II, the Yugoslavs reoccupied his birthplace. The Serb partisans killed all Hungarians who have not fled, broke up all Hungarian tombstones in the cemetery and plowed over them to wipe out any trace of the 1000-year of Hungarian heritage. My cousin, who spoke Serb language perfectly, was spared, because he was the chief engineer of the flood control of the Southern Danube. He was badly needed after all the damage done to levies and even to maps during the war. He heard about the plans to ethnically cleanse the cemetery and a few days before this, he stole the headstones of my ancestors and hid them in the nearby woods. After the communist regime started to enforce some order, my cousin replaced the headstones in the old cemetery plot. I visited this place in 1971.

    By 1944 my father was a Colonel in police and after the German occupation in April 1944 he had to report to a German military police lieutenant. After many disagreements with his German superiors, he was forced to resign and was under investigations for refusing to obey commands. As the Soviet forces were pushing against the outskirts of Budapest, there was little urgency to prosecute him and he lived in forced retirement. One evening, during air raid blackout as he was crossing a street and a German caterpillar tractor pulling a big gun went over his foot, breaking it at several places. He regained consciousness several days later in a hospital and found out that he lost all his papers, money and everything. He may have been robbed and this was fortunate. Namely, the hospital could not identify him and they didn’t notify the police, neither did they after he revealed his identity.

    Soon the Soviet forces closed the circle around Budapest and the siege began. The hospital where my father was taken was at the Northern part of Buda and right on the shore of the Danube. Soviets occupied Pest quickly, but could not cross the Danube for some time. The hospital was a new one, with large air

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