Alois Dostál

* 1932

  • "A military column stopped near Šutrák, down in the village. The houses went all the way up; let's say the column stopped a hundred and fifty metres from Šutrák, by the last house at the time. The news was spreading: 'There's a German military column at Šutrák!' I heard it, and my cousin the engineer heard it. He had learned French, Latin and German in grammar school and spoke German really well. We went there together to have a look. Our uncle Drahovzal lived in the middle of the village and he had a beautiful rifle ready. It was a gift from the aerobatic pilot Novák who got killed in France in combat. Novák won the rifle as the first prize for some aerobatic stunt. He once flew under a bridge in Prague and was disciplined for it, though. Well, as the airmen were fleeing from here via Poland, he brought the rifle to our uncle because this uncle's wife was actually his aunt. Novák came from Sokoleč near Kolín and he used to visit them sometimes. He took the rifle to my uncle to hide it. So my uncle dug a hole secretly; I remember it like today. He wanted their son Franta who was younger than me to also know where it was. So there we were, and uncle says, 'Boys, if anything happens, it's buried right about here. But don't tell anyone!' When the (German) soldiers came, my uncle dug it up. It was wrapped in cloth and tar paper, all greased up. He put it on his shoulder and went up there too. As we got closer and the uncle saw how many soldiers were bustling about the cars, he backed up and hid behind a tree, holding the rifle so nobody could see it!"

  • "They were finished at the bakery, so they went to the store and my dad weighed sugar and flour for my mom in one-kilo bags. In those days, when he bought it, they brought it to him in sacks: a seventy-five-kilo bag of sugar. Old ladies would come by, and since sugar beet was grown in the region, they didn't buy much sugar, half a kilo maybe, just enough to make sweet buns. They could have bought three kilos but that was a lot of money. They had no money. That's why they put it in smaller bags. Then they heard this noise, it was in '37, and my father told me later that those were military planes flying from Pardubice to Prague. There is a big military base in Pardubice. We would watch them; they would fly their route over us. One of our relatives was a pilot, and when he flew over Němčice, he would rock his wings. Us boys got on the roof so Venda the pilot could see us. That's how the planes would fly, and that was the noise. Vlasta says to dad, 'Boss,' - even his friends called him Boss - 'I'll take alook at the yard, there must be a lot of planes!' He went into the yard and saw smoke coming from the barn. He came running in and said, 'Our barn's on fire!'"

  • "Back in '39 or maybe '38, as we were being occupied in the autumn with snow flying about, people were stocking up for the war. My father took me to Kolín, the district town. I had been to Kolín maybe once or twice as a kid, for a festival or an annual fair, as it was called. Grandfather took all of us grandchildern to town, bought us cotton candy and took us to swings and what not, all four of us. You know the folk song that says Kolín is situated on a plain? Well, there's no plain in Kolín, not even in the square. It's all hills. The Kouřimská Street is the steepest. It's really uphill like that. There was a clothing store on the left, Jew Audolenský's. Now, there are only brass signs in front of the shops in the walkways. They put in these brass signs with their names - and that's all over Kolín. Really, most of the merchants were Jewish. We went in, he had me try a coat on... There were already trucks on the edges, each with a cannon hitched at the back. The Germans were in town. A full square. Cars all over, the Wehrmacht. As we walked out, I remember my dad saying, 'Those are German soldiers.' I didn't care. Do you know why? I had my winter coat on. In those days you wore pants half short or half long. You wore stockings below the knees and lace-up boots. I reached into the breast pocket of the winter coat. Imagine what I found in there: a little book, a mirror on one side and a comb on the other side, like in a drawer. I loved that! Even if the Germans were shooting at us right there, I wouldn't t care. That's my lovely memory."

  • Full recordings
  • 1

    Kolín, 25.07.2024

    (audio)
    duration: 01:39:28
    media recorded in project Stories of 20th Century
  • 2

    Kolín, 01.08.2024

    (audio)
    duration: 02:08:14
    media recorded in project Stories of 20th Century
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Don’t tell anyone, boys.

Alois Dostál in 1949
Alois Dostál in 1949
photo: Witness's archive

Alois Dostál was born in Hradec Králové on 20 November 1932 to Marie Dostálová, née Šafaříková (*1907) and baker Alois Dostál Sr. (*1908). One year later, the family moved from Hradec to Němčice, a small village near Kolín, where the father started his own bakery. Alois Dostál and his two younger siblings, Marie and Josef, spent most of their childhood in wartime, whereas the youngest sister Jaroslava was born three years after it in 1948. During the war years, the family was protected from hardships mainly by the father’s hard work in the bakery; the Dostáls always baked at home, and so Alois Dostál Jr. got a baker training too after the war. When his father lost his bakery in the 1950s, however, he opted to become a truck driver for the Ministry of the Interior warehouse and laundry in Kolín after his military service. He married Jaroslava Nováková, daughter Marcela was born in 1957, and he started working as a garage foreman in the warehouse. From 1962 to 1985 he was employed in the paper mills in Štětí. After his first wife died, he married Marie Veselá in 1989, but was widowed again in 2015. In the summer of 2024, he was repairing small appliances in his apartment in Kolín, occasionally going to vintage car shows with friends.