Mária Blažovská

"After that, my mother was taken to the police a couple of times, to get her to sign that she was getting a divorce, then she could continue teaching. Mom didn't want that, so she was at home, stuck out, poor woman. Of course, if she agreed to get a divorce, then, of course, she has nothing to do with Czechoslovakia. Not to a capitalist state. And immediately this was it, Soviet citizenship. I know that when my father left, we were already Soviet citizens. They didn't let us in as Soviet citizens. And we had an offer that at least to Hungary, that then it's not a problem, via river of Tisza. All kinds of things in illegality... They illegaly crossed the Tisza at night to the other side by boat, wooden, all kinds of ways and were already in Hungary. And the Hungarians welcomed them. And there were also families from Uzhhorod who knew the paths to Czechoslovakia through the vineyards and passed without anything. But mom was afraid. She couldn't do it. It was enough for a clever person to bribe the Russian soldiers, and they transported everyone by GAZ. When you gave him a pig for vodka, for vodka, when you had to give more than vodka, or something, poultry, food, he immediately loaded you and they transported you. It was. But my mother couldn't do it, the nuns raised her. A gentleman's girl, she was the only one left alive out of six children."

"It was always hoped that it would be temporary. But smarter people, who knew the Soviets well and did not expect them, immediately got married and left. And especially Hungarian families, because the tendency was that Hungarian families, Swabian families were deportate to Siberia. The Soviet army needed apartments. They even occupied our apartment, but my father was no longer there. Father made up his mind, in September he began to speculate, mother: 'No, no, that they will leave us,' hoping. But they didn't expect it to be the Soviet Union. But even after that, one of my father's former pupils from the gymnasium, who was making some clutch, came to tell my father: 'Andrei Dimitrievich, leave immediately, you are ordered to Siberia.' . The priests, in some position like my father, who were under Czechoslovakia and then also under the Hungarians, in some position, took it all. So the father decided. 'Are you going?' Mom said: 'No, you'll find an apartment and then I'll go with the kids. The borders closed at the end of November, in December, so we stayed not one Christmas, but ten Christmases in Mukacheve.'“

"It was stolen so much that it also happened to us that our dog was shot by a Russian soldier, the grandfather woke up after that. He kept some small pig, which he bought somewhere. He brought home a pig at night, during the fall. The pig in the kitchen that the Russians wouldn't... Because when they shot the dog, they had something in mind, probably. Grandpa always took it in the evening and the pig was inside by morning. That was a disaster. They collected fruit, everything, nothing could be hidden there. Then Russian families moved in, they also occupied our apartment. And we were occupied by two airmen, in the living room, straight into the living room. And that one airman confessed that he was a professor in Leningrad at the university. It turned out that he was a Jew and not a Russian. We happened to be lucky. And they felt sorry for the brothers, they took them to their airline restaurant, they had a good meal there, and my brothers, ribjata, come with us to the straits. So the brothers always ate well in the evening. And so he was polite, he knew that we had a pig and problems, that he said that he couldn't, but Jožko or Miťo, I don't know which of them, let one of them take the bottle for the sink, because there is an awful lot of garbage there."