HungaryTIBOR had not slept for forty-eight hours.
All the time he had been on the move, from house to house and flat to flat. Soviet planes screamed in low over Budapest and tanks took up their positions. Tibor and his friends were given weapons by Hungarian soldiers who had come over to their side. They filled bottles with petrol to hurl at the tanks as they rolled into the city. They listened to the free radio station giving them news of the invasion and heard urgent appeals to the West to intervene to save Hungary.
By midnight on Monday Tibor was holed up in a flat at the top of a block overlooking one of the main roads leading into Budapest. The Soviet Army was advancing steadily along the road. Tanks fired their cannon and the walls and windows of the flat shook. Gradually the Hunga
