“It was really bad. They could take no more than thirty kilos with them. They cried. It was bad. We missed out in this because they wouldn’t let us go. The younger kids didn’t have schools to go to, nothing. Then in August 1945, my mom died. That was totally ...”
“We asked him and he said: ‘Please don’t ask me. It was horrible. I will not speak about it’. My mom used to have these dreams and she would always say that now, something must have happened. She would think about Johann all the time. He then told us that once when he was on patrol with another soldier the other one told him: ‘I have such a bad feeling. Would you mind if we swapped places?' My brother said yes, he said that he didn’t care where he stood. So they exchanged their positions and even before my brother came to his new place, he heard the other soldier screaming. He was dead.”
“The chairman of the National Committee came. He asked around the house if someone wants a baby. The baby’s mother, Marta, didn’t want it and she threatened to throw the baby into the water. There were so many families that had one, two or more kids but nobody wanted that baby. My mom said: ‘I’ve got bread for seven kids, I’ll manage to feed one more kid as well’. So she took it. He later fell very sick, but was one of ours. We wouldn’t change his surname because we were getting a few bucks for the foster care and we had no money. Kurt came back here when he lived in Germany and said: ‘Now I'm back home again’.”
"Herman escaped from a farmer in Třebíč. They worked on fields, they had to dig up stones. The younger one was alright, but the old one, his father, hated the Germans and wanted to give him a whipping. Herman was courageous. He said that he wouldn’t let him whip him. We lived in that village and one evening, there was a dancing party in a pub in the village. He packed his socks and his underwear in his briefcase and said that he wouldn’t return anymore. He said goodbye and instructed us to not say a word about it to anyone. He went to the pub and didn’t come back anymore. The farmer then announced his disappearance to the police. They threatened us and told us that if we won’t say where he is, that they would put us into a labor camp. We said that we didn’t know where he was, that he just went out to have some fun in the pub and didn’t return. We didn’t say anything.”
“Then we were in Jihlava for a year and my dad wouldn’t rest for a minute. He would try to run away from there permanently. They would always catch him and bring him back but he would try again and again. My dad said that he wouldn’t stay there. He was born here and he wanted to die here. I tried to explain it to the policemen, but first they wouldn’t listen to me and then he escaped again and then they brought him back again. When they were at the train station, they got out on one side and my dad on the second side and he escaped again. And then he was in Jeseník. They let us go but they said that only I could go and the sisters and the others had to stay. But I said that either all of us will go or we’ll all stay. So they let us go.”
Marie Filgasová, maiden name Pusch, was born in 1926 in Bukovice (Buchelsdorf in German), which is now part of the district town of Jeseník. Just like the vast majority of the population of the region, her family was of German nationality. Three of her brothers had to enlist in the Wehrmacht during the war, even though two of them were still under age at that time. After the war, the family was divided. Three brothers ended up in West Germany, one in East Germany and the rest of the family remained in Czechoslovakia. Because they were needed as workforce, Marie and her father weren’t expelled along with the other Germans. In 1948, they were transferred to Třebíčsko, where they had to work for two years on a farm and then for another year on a state-run farm in Kosovo. They were only allowed to return after several escape attempts by her father, who desperately longed for a return to his native region. In 1946 in Jeseník, Marie met with Ladislav Filgas, who originated in Vsetín. Although they had a daughter, the authorities wouldn’t grant a wedding between a German and a Czech. The wedding finally took place in 1962. Today, Marie Filgasová still lives in her native Jeseník.
The family Pusch - from left: brother Bernhard, Hubert, grandmother Marie Freund, brother Herman, Josef, Johan, the mother of Marie and her sister Tereza, on the far right the witness Marie Filgasová (Pusch)
The family Pusch - from left: brother Bernhard, Hubert, grandmother Marie Freund, brother Herman, Josef, Johan, the mother of Marie and her sister Tereza, on the far right the witness Marie Filgasová (Pusch)
