In this section you can find short stories about Roma women deported between 1940-1944.
     If you know other such stories of Roma women who suffered during the Holocaust, please send them to us at the address: office@romawomen.ro

     These stories are published in memory of the Rroma women who suffered during the Holocaust. Portions of these stories were edited in order to spare the readers painful and shocking details. We hope that there will never again be events like those told here.

     Story of Anuta Branzan

     My name is Anuta Branzan; I was born in the town of Rosiori de Vede, county of Teleorman, in Romania on March 3, 1934. My parents' names were Pavel and Constantina Radu.
     Q. How was your childhood ?
     A. I had a lovely childhood with my parents and my sisters Margareta, Verginica and Marieta, until one day when we were told that we would have to leave our home and move to Transnistria, where our lives would be better. I remember that day because one of my aunts ( my mother's sister) came and took a picture of me and my sisters to have as a remembrance. Our relatives had a feeling that something bad will be happening to us and that we would not be having a better life in Transnistria.
     Q. Tell me what you remember about the time when you were taken away...
     A. I remember that a policeman came to our house and told us that he had orders to take us with him; we were to prepare our luggage, leave our home and follow him. He allowed us to gather whatever we could carry by hand, then he took us to the town of Turnu Magurele. I remember this happened in the summer time, during the month of August, it was very hot outside; they dropped us off in a stadium where we stayed for about 2-3 days until they found train cars, the kind used for cattle transport.
During this time Gypsies from other areas arrived at the stadium; the stadium became the gathering point for all who were to be transported to Transnistria. After 3 days we spent in the stadium, during which time more Rromas arrived, we were moved into these train cars, actually cattle cars, cars without windows, without any facilities. Each car had a sentry to watch us until we arrived at our destination, and so we left. On the way we arrived again at the town where we left from, Rosiori de Vede, and my mother's relatives had heard that the train transporting the Gypsies to Transnistria would be stopping there for a little while and they came to see us; when my aunt saw the sentries at each cattle car, she fell down on the rails and fainted in pain, realizing that something very bad would happen to us. The trip to Transnistria took about 10 days, we had no food, no water, no fresh air, we couldn't see where we were going and where we were getting to. Once we arrived in Transnistria we were housed in mud huts.
     After a while, my father and many other Gypsy men were shot to death by the Germans. My mother became ill with typhus, and so did my older sister Marieta, and both died from the disease. I was left alone at the age of 12 to care for my younger sisters, Verginica (3 years old) and Margareta, who was 7. In Transnistria we were taken to the village of Vladimirovska. Here is how we ate: one of the people in charge of the camp distributed different grains: corn, oats and barley; when they came around, they did not give each of us our rations, but rather they threw the seeds up in the air and whoever was able to catch anything had food to eat..
     We ate the seeds as they were, we had had no way to cook them, the huts were like holes in the ground. Because of such harsh living conditions, 500-600 Gypsies (men, women and children) died before the spring of 1944.In the spring of 1944 we were liberated by the Russians and were able to leave together with other women.
     The Russian convoys were going towards Romania and they took pity on us and took us in their carts for parts of our trip and they gave us some canned food and hardened bread. Everywhere we went we saw empty villages, everything was abandoned, we saw bridges that had been destroyed, everywhere there were used cannon balls and bullets, we could not drink the water because the Germans had poisoned the wells and destroyed everything. And so we finally arrived back at our native village of Rosiori de Vede from where we had left. Here we were welcomed by my mother's sister whose son had recently died on the front lines in Chekoslovakia. My mother's sister raised us and helped us until we were married.
     Now only Anuta and Verginica are alive; Margareta passed away on February 28, 2003, may God rest her soul and watch over her

     Note: These stories are available in their entirety from RWAR. For more information, please contact us at: violeta.dumitru@rdslink.ro