"I took them (ed. note: the refugee Russian prisoners) to our farm. Where do I hide them? We did a good thing by hiding them in the hay store above the stalls where you went up a ladder. The mother would bring them food in the early days. She went about collecting eggs and carried the food under her apron. She got up there and put the food in. Once she left, we removed the ladder. Just when I got the Russians in, Germans came in as well. They were retreating and afraid to leave their cars outdoors. They pulled all our carts from the barn and put their cars in. There were many of them. I remember going to the stalls in the morning and Germans were scattered around on straw. It was a good thing that the ladder was not there, otherwise they would look into the hay store as well. For a few days the Russians could not go down, they stayed up there and we gave them food. Then as the war approached its end, the Germans left and things got better."
“We’ve also encountered hard times. You know how it goes – having a farm means getting up early and lots of work. The Americans arrived in the evening, bringing a keg of beer. They also pulled out a video projector and a canvas. They screened all sorts of movies there. They wanted us to watch them alongside them and drink beer. This was problematic for us farmers. We had hard time there, not wanting to leave them and have them feel insulted. When we stayed, it was hard in the morning. We didn’t get enough sleep then.”
"When they evicted us, our child was eight months old. There were about eight cows at our farm, they would milk them, but we didn't have as little as half a litre of milk for our child. I went to the shop, there was a shopkeeper that we used to buy stuff from. I told him: 'Mr Vrba, would you sell me half a litre of milk?' He looked at me and said: 'I have nothing left for you, you should have been gone.' The truck was delayed, they told us it would come on the 21st and it only came on the 22nd (of May 1953). They were moving us 450 kilometres away. The truck took a load here, it got delayed and came one day later. As a result, we were not entitled to anything anymore, not even milk for our eight month-old child."
“On that day, it was the monetary reform. We lacked a certificate and so they wouldn’t exchange any of our money. We arrived to Silesia the next day at noon, spending twenty-four hours on the train. We arrived to the cottage and my wife said: ‘Please, go buy at least a loaf of bread so that we have something.’ I went to buy bread but we only had old money. I got a tiny loaf of bread and it cost me five hundred crowns. When we ran the farm, we would spend five hundred to feed two 100-kilo pigs. Now, I spent as much for a tiny loaf of bread.”
“We’ve also encountered hard times. You know how it goes – having a farm means getting up early and lots of work. The Americans arrived in the evening, bringing a keg of beer. They also pulled out a video projector and a canvas. They screened all sorts of movies there. They wanted us to watch them alongside them and drink beer. This was problematic for us farmers. We had hard time there, not wanting to leave them and have them feel insulted. When we stayed, it was hard in the morning. We didn’t get enough sleep then.”
"The Americans came. I had a motorcycle with a two-stroke engine that needed oil. I just left the yard, and they go 'Gasoline!' They were offering me petrol. I opened the fuel tank and they filled it full with petrol. What to do? I went back home, emptied the tank and went out again. But I was afraid I might ruin the engine - it was still pure petrol without any oil. After that I would take oil with me and added a few drops in. The Americans were golden - they gave something to just about everybody there. I was given a telescope, as much petrol as I needed, gloves, and military clothes."
Josef Jehlík was born on 19 June 1927 in Úboč in the Domažlice area. His parents were farmers and owned a medium-sized farm, which the witness received as their only son in 1950. After 1948, the family faced ever-increasing pressure from the state forcing collectivisation and pursuing targeted elimination of private farmers: they were not allowed to employ people; formerly, a coachman, a maid and a jack used to work at the farm, whereas newly the family had to manage everything themselves. At the same time, they had to comply with ever-increasing mandatory limits for the supplies of meat, milk, crops etc. If they failed, they were fined, and eventually Josef Jehlík was sentenced to two months in prison for failure to meet the objectives in 1953. He served a part of his sentence in the Plzeň-Karlov labour camp and was released as part of a presidential amnesty in May 1953. The Machinery and Tractor Station bought out the farming machinery needed to run the farm, but it did not pay for it. In 1952 Mr Jehlík wanted to give up on the futile attempts at maintaining the farm and filed the application for the Úboč United Farming Co-operative. The local communists did not want him in the co-operative, so his application was “lost” and he was turned into a “kulak” and a “village tycoon”. On 19 May 1953 he received the eviction assessment and on 22 May 1953 the entire family including ten-month old son Josef boarded a train and was moved from Úboč all the way to Horní Fořt near Javorník in Silesia where they worked at the Javorník State Farm. This was where the witness’ father, Josef Jehlík Sr., died. The family did not return to West Bohemia until 1960. Since Mr Jehlík was still banned from staying in the Domažlice District, they bought a house in Hlohová on the border of the Stod and Domažlice districts. The witness found a job at a brewery and later at a fire-clay factory in Staňkov. Josef Jehlík passed away on December, the 28th, 2017.
