Mircea Mîrza – a wonderful young man
Among the young people who came to Târgșor was a group from Sibiu, high school students like those from Cluj. […] They were kept isolated for a while, without any reason, but it was still possible to contact them. The figure of one of them stands out with poignancy. It was Mircea Mârza, a student at a high school in Sibiu. The son of General Mârza, Mircea retained in his structure the effects of the noble, generous and characterful upbringing of the family he came from. His father, a former officer living in Transylvania, had been ennobled by the Austrian authorities, when this Romanian province was part of the Habsburg Empire, with the title of Reus von Ritter. His mother, of German Transylvanian origin, had instilled in her son the qualities of openness, dignity and good manners. Like every member of the German community, who also valued practical family occupations and did not regard them as something shameful or degrading, she had made for her son, who was still quite young, a scarlet sports suit, which was very successful and which I sincerely admired when I saw him wearing it on festive occasions.
Mircea had a highly developed sense of comradeship towards the colleagues with whom he had come and with whom he had shared all the difficulties of his investigative days at the Securitate in Sibiu. His colleagues held him in high esteem and their attachment to him was as sincere and loyal as possible. His modesty gave him a touch of distinction, even nobility and distance.
The time came to say goodbye. His destiny took him to various places of detention. At the beginning of the 1950s, he ended up in the sadly remembered colony of Cap Midia, where not everyone could go…
The death watch was looser and more active than in most prisons in the country. Hunger, terror, excessive and exhausting work were the order of the day. […]
It was night, a deadly night; they came to a place where a light bulb was burning on a pole. At some point the bulb went out. His boss sent him up to see if the bulb had burned out or if there was some other problem. As the installation had been dismantled due to wet weather and wear and tear, Mircea was left on the pole like a stone pillar, electrocuted to death within moments.
As I have already noted, it is appropriate to express the same puzzlement and to ask the following question: How was it possible that the noblest and most elite specimens of this lineage should have disappeared too early and under conditions that were often tragic?
The sudden death of this wonderful young man also raises questions about the destiny of this nation. Is there always and forever a need for sacrifices chosen among the most brilliant personalities?! It seems so…
(George Popescu – Under the Sword of the Knights of the Apocalypse, Majadahonda Publishing House, Bucharest, 1997, pp. 25-26)