
Gyorgy Kun, survivor of Auschwitz twin experiments, dies at 93
That unwitting deception saved the lives of her sons. While she was sent to the gas chamber, they went to the barracks that housed twins used by Mengele for medical experiments. Mr. Kun, who died Feb. 5 in Budapest at 93, was among the few remaining survivors of that infamous chapter of the Holocaust.
Get Starting Point
A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday.
Enter Email
Sign Up
'My last memory of my mother is that she is holding my hand and we are separated,' Mr. Kun recalled, according to an account of his life written by his daughter, Andrea Szonyi, and published on the website of the Shoah Foundation at the University of Southern California. 'We were simply torn apart: we, one way and she, the other. I had that picture with me a long time, and I know my brother did, too.'
Mr. Kun arrived at Auschwitz, the Nazi killing center in occupied Poland, at the outset of the camp's deadliest period. Between May 15 and July 9, 1944 — a span of eight weeks — German and Hungarian officials deported approximately 420,000 Jews from Hungary to Auschwitz. Seventy-five percent were gassed upon arrival, according to the US Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington.
A total of 6 million Jews, including more than 560,000 Jews from Hungary, were murdered in the Holocaust.
Few Nazi officials loom larger in the memory of the Holocaust than Mengele, who died a fugitive in Brazil in 1979. A highly trained researcher with a doctorate in anthropology as well as a medical degree, he had risen to prominence in Nazi Germany and was 32 when he arrived at Auschwitz.
Advertisement
Like other Nazi physicians and medical researchers, Mengele adhered to pseudoscientific theories of Aryan racial superiority and exploited concentration camp inmates, who represented ethnicities and nationalities from across Europe, in often sadistic medical experiments.
At Dachau, the Nazi concentration camp in Germany, inmates were subjected to high-altitude conditions in research designed to benefit German military pilots. In other experiments, prisoners were infected with diseases or forced to submit to surgeries, including sterilization. Many inmates were permanently disfigured by the experiments, if they survived. The bodies of the dead were dissected, and their organs and tissues sent to Germany.
Mengele selected hundreds of sets of twins for genetic research at Auschwitz. The precise nature of his work involving twins is not fully established, in part because few victims survived and in part because little documentary evidence of that activity remains, said David Marwell, author of the book 'Mengele: Unmasking the 'Angel of Death'' (2020).
Marwell worked on the Mengele case at the Justice Department's Office of Special Investigations before the corpse of the Nazi doctor was positively identified in 1985. He said that the Kun brothers probably endured protocols designed to determine if they were identical or fraternal twins, a key distinction in genetic research.
According to his daughter, Mr. Kun recalled being subjected to blood tests, injections, X-rays, measurements of his body and analyses of his hair. Mengele's twins — many of whom, like Mr. Kun and his brother, were children — underwent such procedures after being separated from their parents and in an environment of terror.
Advertisement
Mr. Kun spoke relatively little of his experience at Auschwitz. But he remembered with affection a fellow prisoner named Erno Spiegel, a Hungarian twin in his late 20s who was tasked with overseeing the children in the twins barracks. Like Mr. Kun's mother, Spiegel told a lie that saved his life at Auschwitz.
When Mr. Kun and his brother reported for registration after their selection, they were unaware that they had been mistaken for twins and provided their accurate dates of birth. Recognizing that they would be put to death if the Nazi physicians learned they were not twins, Spiegel falsified their birth dates.
'I decided to take a chance, and put down false information,' Spiegel recounted years later in testimony recorded in the book 'Children of the Flames: Dr. Josef Mengele and the Untold Story of the Twins of Auschwitz' (1991) by Lucette Matalon Lagnado and Sheila Cohn Dekel. 'I 'made' them twins.'
Gyorgy Kuhn — as an adult he dropped the H to Hungarianize his surname — was born on Jan. 23, 1932, in Vallaj, a village in northeastern Hungary. Within his family, he was known as Gyuri. His brother, called Pista, was born Dec. 17, 1932. Their father was an agricultural professional and managed farms, while their mother tended to the home.
When Gyuri was young, the family moved west across Hungary to a home outside Szekesfehervar, where his father had found work. The two brothers attended a Jewish school, living with the rabbi to avoid the commute to and from town. In testimony to the Shoah Foundation, Mr. Kun recalled the period as 'the good life.'
Advertisement
Beginning in the late 1930s, Hungarian Jews suffered increasing persecution under the regime of Admiral Miklos Horthy. Mr. Kun was barred from attending the high school of his choice, and bullying classmates insulted him with antisemitic taunts.
Hungary joined the Axis alliance in 1940 but refused Nazi demands for the deportation of the country's Jews — at the time the largest Jewish community still alive in Europe, according to the Holocaust museum.
Mass deportations began after Germany occupied Hungary in March 1944. Mr. Kun recalled that he and his family were moved first to a ghetto and then to a brick factory that served as a way station en route to Auschwitz.
'My parents couldn't imagine where we would end up, so my mother kept repeating that we should always stay together,' he said. 'No matter what, the family must not be torn apart.'
Upon their arrival at Auschwitz, Mr. Kun's father was separated from the rest of the family and sent to work. He was later transferred to Dachau. Mr. Kun's grandparents and many other members of his extended family perished along with his mother in the Holocaust.
Mr. Kun described Spiegel as serving for him and his brother as their 'father in Auschwitz.' It was Spiegel, he said, who helped them make their way home to Hungary after the liberation of Auschwitz in January 1945.
Mr. Kun stayed for a period with his brother in a Zionist children's home in Budapest before returning to Szekesfehervar to live with their father, who had remarried. Gyuri began a factory career, working first as a mechanical technician and later in sales. His daughter said he suffered from depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder, as well as an abiding trepidation before doctors, as a result of his experience in the Holocaust
Advertisement
'Very often, I underrate myself,' Mr. Kun said. 'There is a certain repression, almost fear, in me that I believe comes from there.'
Mr. Kun's brother studied architecture and moved to the United States following the Hungarian Revolution of 1956. He settled in Oklahoma City and died of an infection shortly before his 30th birthday, a loss so painful to Mr. Kun that he rarely if ever spoke about it.
Besides his daughter, a Holocaust educator in Hungary, Mr. Kun's survivors include his wife of 64 years, the former Agnes Boskovitz, and two grandchildren. Mr. Kun's daughter confirmed his death, at a hospital, and said she did not know the cause.
Mr. Kun had no contact after the war with Spiegel, who moved to Israel and died in 1993. He did, however, come to know Spiegel's daughter, Judith Richter, who is at work on a documentary film about her father, and who visited Mr. Kun in Budapest several years ago.
It was 'very strange,' she said in an interview, 'to go there to meet someone I didn't know' and to feel 'so welcome.'
'Nothing happens by accident; our lives are interwoven within a mosaic-like, larger context,' Mr. Kun's daughter reflected in an article published by the Shoah Foundation.
She continued: 'I owe something to Erno Spiegel. I owe him my father's life, my own life, and the lives of my children.'
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


New York Post
a day ago
- New York Post
How Greece and Germany helped make archeology modern
Watching an American icon like Indiana Jones battle Nazis in 'Raiders of the Lost Ark,' it's hard to believe that it was actually a German cultural institute which played a pivotal role in transforming reckless Jones-style treasure hunting into the modern science of archaeology we know today. That institute, the German Archaeological Institute at Athens (DAI Athens), has just completed the year-long celebration of its 150th anniversary — just as Greece welcomes record numbers of summer tourists to marvel at the archaeological wonders the institute helped unearth. Widely regarded as one of the birthplaces of modern archaeological science, the DAI pioneered the transition from indiscriminate digging at archaeological sites to the systematic excavation and meticulous study that continues to inspire researchers and amateur archaeology buffs across the globe. Advertisement 11 Archaeological Site of Olympia in Greece, excavated by the Germans in 1875 in what is regarded as the first 'dig' to employ the rigorous academic and scientific practices now used in archeology across the globe. dudlajzov – 11 The ruins of Ancient Olympia. elgreko – 11 The headquarters of the DAI Athens, the German-run archeological institute which helped establish modern archeology. DAI Athens, Photographer H. Birk Until the mid-19th century, archeology was often more about treasure hunting and indiscriminate looting than detailed research and science. Advertisement Take Lord Elgin's controversial removal of sculptures from the Parthenon in Athens, between 1801 and 1812. Although Elgin claimed to have obtained permission from Ottoman authorities — a claim recently refuted by the Turkish government — his sale of the sculptures to the British Museum remains a major cultural and diplomatic dispute between Greece and Britain. Many view Elgin's deeds as one of the most notorious colonial-era lootings, alongside famous antiquities brought to museums around the world like the Rosetta Stone. 11 'Greece's allure was such that many countries fought to establish archaeological institutes at the time. Today, there are 20 foreign institutes based in Athens,' says DAI Director Katja Sporn. DAI Athens, Photographer N. Chrisikakis Advertisement Even Luigi Palma di Cesnola, the first director of New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art, was accused of looting classical treasures from Cyprus, where he served as US Consul General in the mid-1860s. Many of the artifacts di Cesnola was said to have plundered were sold, ironically, to the Met itself. During this period, Greece, newly independent from the Ottoman Empire in 1830, was rich in history but in economic decline owing to decades of war. But it was finally possible for the philhellenists (lovers of Greek culture) to travel to Greece and study its ancient remains. In the later part of the 19th century, Greece's ancient ruins also became magnets for the era's great expansionist powers like the United Kingdom and France. Their ultimate goal? Securing rights to excavate Greece's most coveted archaeological sites while bolstering diplomatic ties through what we now call 'cultural diplomacy.' 11 Luigi Palma Di Cesnola, the first director of New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art, who was accused of looting ancient relics from Cyprus. Getty Images Advertisement Germany was just one of the many countries aspiring to gain excavation rights in Greece. 'The oldest foreign archaeological institute in Athens is the French School of Athens, founded in 1846,' explains Katja Sporn, director of the DAI Athens. 'But Greece's allure was such that many countries fought to establish archaeological institutes at the time. Today, there are 20 foreign institutes based in Athens.' The DAI Athens was founded in 1874, just three years after German unification, during a period of growing German nationalism. Part of the German Archaeological Institute based in Berlin, the DAI Athens' creation reflected the importance of Greek history to Kaiser Wilhelm I and the close political ties between Germany and Greece, whose first king, Otto, hailed from a Bavarian royal family. Many Germans at the time saw parallels between Greece's struggle for independence from the Ottoman Empire and their own aspirations for national unification. In the same year the DAI Athens was founded, Sporn explains, the 'DAI became subordinate to Germany's Foreign Office 'as a permanent base for internationally active research.' 11 While the Germans were successful in securing and excavating Olympia, their French institutional counterparts were able to excavate Delphi (above). Getty Images Today, the DAI Athens is housed in a neoclassical building in downtown Athens where an exhibition for its 150th anniversary showcases its storied history. Among the figures featured is Heinrich Schliemann, an 'amateur' archaeologist and businessman who promoted archaeology to a wider public by his emblematic excavations in Troy and Mycenae. The figure who truly transformed archaeology was the institute's fourth director, Wilhelm Dörpfeld, who arrived at the DAI Athens in 1887. An architect trained at the excavations in Olympia, Dörpfeld pioneered stratigraphic excavation and both archaeological and architectural documentation methods. These revolutionized the field by allowing archaeologists to piece together detailed site histories while preserving them for future study. 'Dörpfeld's work was a turning point,' says Sporn. 'Archaeologists then worked methodically rather than destructively.' Natalia Vogeikoff-Brogan, the Doreen C. Spritzer Director of Archives at the American School of Classical Studies at Athens (ASCSA), agrees. 'Dörpfeld's techniques were taught to archaeologists from Germany, Britain, France and the United States, who then applied and passed them on worldwide,' she says. Advertisement 11 A map of where the discoveries were made. Toni Misthos/NY Post Design This shift — from looting the ancient world to rigorous excavation and research — became the gold standard, paving the way for discoveries such as the tomb of King Tutankhamen by Howard Carter in 1922 and inspiring the swashbuckling tales of Indiana Jones. Some 150 years ago, in 1875, the German Kaiserreich began excavating the ancient sanctuary of Olympia, the birthplace of the Olympic Games — and the place from which the Olympic torch is now lit 100 days before the start of the modern Olympics every four years. Olympia wasn't just another dig; it was governed by a bilateral treaty between Greece and Germany, setting unprecedented levels of oversight for excavation and preservation. Funded by the German government and backed by King George I of Greece, the dig benefited from both financial investment and diplomatic backing. Advertisement 11 Natalia Vogeikoff-Brogan, the Doreen C. Spritzer Director of Archives at the American School of Classical Studies at Athens. American School of Classical Studies at Athens/Facebook 'Olympia remains one of the most important archaeological sites in Greece,' says Sporn. The excavation uncovered iconic treasures like sculptures from the Temple of Zeus and the statue of Hermes by Praxiteles, but mainly the actual buildings and places where the famous Olympic games were held in antiquity. Yet the dig — partially overseen by Dörpfeld before he led the DAI — is not only important for what it found, but how it was conducted. An interdisciplinary team, including archaeologists, architects, historians and conservators, ensured a holistic approach to the study of the site and created a global model for archaeological collaborations that remains the gold standard to this day. Starting from the old excavations in Olympia, the DAI Athens sought to preserve the fragile remnants of Olympia's past by systematically recording findings and by publishing results in a series of reports. The approach facilitated scholarly research across Europe, shaped future standards for transparency and data-sharing and established archaeology as a rigorous academic discipline. Advertisement 11 Wilhelm Dörpfeld, the fourth DAI Athens director, who pioneered stratigraphic excavation and both archaeological and architectural documentation methods. Archive of the City of Wuppertal, photographer anonymous Crucially, the collaboration with the Greek state ensured that artifacts remained in Greece rather than being shipped off to a museum or private collection abroad, as was common practice at the time. This led to the creation of a dedicated museum at Olympia financed by a Greek patron as early as 1886 — the first on-site museum in the Mediterranean — where the site's most important finds could be studied and displayed in their original cultural context. Today, museums aligned with excavation sites have become common across the globe. Ultimately, the dig established 'responsible excavation' standards and early conservation techniques that remain in practice to this day. Back then, Olympia's success sparked fierce competition among nations vying for other important Greek sites. 'A rivalry developed between Germany, France and the United States over the most significant excavations,' says Vogeikoff-Brogan. Advertisement They became a battle for prestige among great powers, fueling political alliances between Greece and other countries. For the first time, economic considerations, like trade, would be factored in by Greece to determine who would get the rights to dig the most coveted archaeological sites. Archaeology became an expression not just of Greek national culture — but its newly emerging political might. 11 German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier speaking at the 150th Anniversary celebrations of the DAI Athens. Presse- und Informationsamt der Bundesregierung/ Guido Bergmann The French secured Delphi, aided by trade negotiations involving, of all things, Zante currants, while the Americans started excavations in Corinth and eventually the Agora in Athens, leveraging political alliances and personal relationships. 'Social capital and political connections were just as important as archaeological merit in these decisions,' Vogeikoff-Brogan adds. The positive relationship between the Greek state, its people and the DAI Athens faced a severe setback during WWII. The institute's ties to Nazi Germany through its director being leader of the German Nazi party in Greece deeply damaged its standing in the country — underscoring the entanglement between DAI Athens and Germany's Ministry of Foreign Affairs. 'After WWII, it took time for the DAI Athens to regain the trust of the Greek community and reopen,' Sporn explains. The war left lasting scars, and Greeks remained wary of German institutions due to the atrocities committed during the occupation. Meanwhile, the American School of Classical Studies at Athens (ASCSA) gained prominence in Greece by deliberately distancing itself from politics, establishing itself as another of Greece's most prominent foreign archaeological and historical education and research institutes. 11 Otto, the first King of Greece, who ruled the nation after its independence from the Ottoman Empire and helped establish Greece as an archeological the DAI Athens has long embraced modernity, digitizing its vast archives for global access and integrating new technologies into its research, particularly in the context of past human-nature relations, ancient land use and climate change. Like all Greek foreign archeological institutions, the DAI works in close collaboration with the Hellenic Ministry of Culture. And by studying how ancient communities adapted to environmental shifts, the institute aims to offer insights into resilience strategies relevant today. 'By examining the past, the DAI Athens continues to research important topics of the present, which may offer perspectives for the future,' Sporn says. Cheryl Ann Novak is deputy chief editor at BHMA International Edition — Wall Street Journal Publishing Partnership


Newsweek
a day ago
- Newsweek
Mom Gardening in Yard Finds Buried Sword—Then Realizes What Era It's From
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. When his mom was clearing weeds from her garden in Constance, southern Germany, Conrad, 29, didn't expect her to stumble on a piece of history. "She was digging out some weeds when she found this buried in the ground." Conrad, who lives in Munich, told Newsweek. "She sent a picture into the family group chat and then wanted to throw it away." Intrigued, and aware that the region has seen its share of archaeological finds, Conrad suspected it might be something ancient. "Before my parents' house, there were no buildings on this lot, just an empty piece of land. So my parents assumed it was something from a very long time ago," Conrad said. But it wasn't Roman, Celtic, or prehistoric. It took just a few hours, and the collective expertise of the internet, to reveal the blade's true identity: an M35 Wehrmacht dagger, issued to Nazi military personnel during World War II. Conrad, who didn't give a surname, shared pictures of the discovery on r/Archeology on Reddit, hoping to find out more about the dagger discovery. Here, people were quick to weigh in. Pictures of the dagger found in the backyard in Southern Germany. Pictures of the dagger found in the backyard in Southern Germany. Illustrious-Donut-/Reddit The answers were far from what Conrad was expecting. "I took some pictures and thought about how I can find out more about it." Conrad explained. "I knew I could bring it to a historian, but in my experience, Reddit has a lot of forums that can solve this in a matter of hours." His post on the forum earlier this week amassed 2,500 upvotes, as he shared his initial thoughts on the find. "When my parents built their house 25 years ago, objects were found that indicate that there was probably an early Alemannic cemetery on this site. There is archaeological evidence of pile-dwelling settlements from the 3rd millennium BC (Neolithic period) in the village," the post said. "I thought it was a sword from thousands of years ago." he told Newsweek. "People started commenting very quickly, and in a matter of minutes it was determined to be an M35 Nazi army dagger." Its telltale features—spiral grip, signature guard, and design from the Third Reich era—were unmistakable to the amateur historians online. Introduced in 1935 by the German Army, the daggers were generally ceremonial and not intended for combat. Instead they were a mark of rank and status, often worn with the dress uniform. For Conrad, the implication was chilling. Closer pictures of the sword found in Southern Germany. Closer pictures of the sword found in Southern Germany. Illustrious-Donut-/Reddit "I assume that after the war, a lot of soldiers wanted to get rid of the belongings that can link them to the Wehrmacht." Conrad said. "So I assume somebody buried it on this land and then fled to Switzerland which is very close or just continued to live in one of these villages here." Now with more understanding of the item's history, Conrad is torn about what to do next. "As a German, luckily, I had quite a good education and reflected a lot about our history." he said. "This find in no way fills me with pride - it's much more a dark reminder about the horrible things Germany has done and how most of the German population participated willingly. "Therefore, I'm not going to polish it and hang it in my living room. On the other hand, it is a part of history and I don't want to throw it into the trash either." he explained. A file photo of the WWII German Officer's Dagger. A file photo of the WWII German Officer's Dagger. olemac/Getty Images For now, he's considering seeking a professional's opinion. "Maybe I will bring it to a professional to have a look at it and decide whether it 'belongs in a museum', as so many Redditors have pointed out. "At the same time I'm pretty sure it was mass produced back then. While it's very interesting and a powerful reminder for me, I don't think it's particularly rare to find something like this, sadly." This isn't the first time someone has uncovered Nazi history in their home. In 2024 a homeowner was stunned to find Nazi memorabilia in the attic of their new house. While earlier this year a woman going through her grandpa's things after he passed away aged 100 stumbled across his CV from the 1940s. Kyra Shishko, 34, from Boston, read Ellsworth Rosen's resume, who passed away on November 21, 2024. "I was so touched by this resume because I always knew him at the tail end of his impressive life and it was so fascinating to see how he started," she told Newsweek.

Wall Street Journal
2 days ago
- Wall Street Journal
‘I Seek a Kind Person' Review: A Lifeline in the Classified Section
'Nobody wanted us. . . . Nobody opened their doors to us.' Lisbeth Weiss was only 11 when, shortly after the Nazis annexed Austria in 1938, uncontrolled outbreaks of antisemitic violence confirmed that she and her Viennese Jewish family were in danger. They were also trapped: Even as Hitler's anti-Jewish laws became increasingly vicious, strict regulations against receiving refugees in countries around the world cut off almost all possible exit routes. In their desperation to save their only child, Lisbeth's parents tried a ploy so unusual it is almost absent from the literature of Holocaust history: They placed a classified ad in a Manchester, England, newspaper asking if a British family might step forward to care for a 'clever child worthy of support.' Remarkably—one might almost say miraculously—a family in Oldham, near Manchester, said yes. In 'I Seek a Kind Person,' Julian Borger, an editor with the Guardian newspaper, tracks the histories of Lisbeth and nine other Austrian children who owe their survival to newspaper ads and the people whose answers allowed them to forge new lives in foreign countries. Mr. Borger reveals that his own father, Robert, was one of those young refugees. The emotional costs, he tells us, were steep. Most of the children never saw their families again, often not learning, until decades later, when and where their relatives were murdered. Gertrude Batscha describes her years of uncertainty about her family's fate as a loneliness that 'got in your limbs.' Like several of the adolescent refugees, Gertrude was forced to perform domestic work for her foster family and provide child care for their biological children.