“[The German army’s field hospital] was sheltered in the casemates of the Vyšehrady bulwark. There was a footbridge leading from the sanatorium to the shelter, and it was full of patients. Some leant on crutches, having one leg, some carried stretchers, and I, in the spirit of the times, when we were used to jeering at Germans and wishing them the worst possible, I watched from the window and jeered at how hard a time they were having of it. Granddad told me in a grave, strict voice: ‘Those are ill people, Jiřinka. They don’t deserve your derision. They are ill people.’ I think that left a mark in me. You could see they were from units that undoubtedly committed atrocities, but now they were wounded and sick, and this had maybe broken the evil within them, so that they were perhaps free of evil. But those weren’t the thoughts of a nine-year-old girl. I was just taken aback that Granddad reprimanded me so strictly.”
“We had civic education, and our class teach was saying that [...] all Western resistance was controlled by Canaris’s intelligence service, and that everyone who participated in the assassination of Heydrich was working with Canaris’s intelligence service. That was a bit too much for me. I never put my things in my satchel methodically, but I did so that once. I carefully put my pencils into their case, zipped it up, stood up, and left the classroom. One thing I still regret [...] is that I bashed the door - because a lady doesn’t do that. There were all kind of consequences afterwards, threes [the worst mark - trans.] in behaviour and the such.”
“If you don’t meet the people who were in charge [of executions], or Geschek, who personally tortured my father, or Frank, who walked by the dead paratroopers, you feel aversion, but not hate. [...] [END REPHRASED] If I met them, I would certainly turn away and leave. I wouldn’t shake hands with them, certainly not. But forgiveness is an awfully difficult category, it’s one of the hardest commandments we’ve received from our Creator.”
Jiřina Juláková was born on 30 September 1935 in Prague to Vladimír and Jiřina Petřek. From 1938 to 1943 she and her mother lived with her father’s relatives in Rožnov pod Radhoštěm. Her parents lived in legal separation, which later probably saved her life. Her father, a chaplain at the Orthodox church of Sts Cyril and Methodius in Prague, always came to visit the family in Moravian Wallachia over the holidays. But when the witness looked forward to showing her father her first-year school report, she waited in vain. He was arrested in June 1942 and subsequently executed in Prague-Kobylisy in September that very year - for supporting the paratroopers who assassinated Reinhard Heydrich in May 1942. Jiřina Juláková moved to Prague in 1943 and has lived there since. She was expelled from grammar school after leaving the classroom in protest of a distorted depiction of the Heydrich assassination. In the end she graduated from a different school and earned a degree in physics and chemistry at the Faculty of Natural Sciences of Charles University in Prague. She never regretted having lost her father, although she missed while growing up. On the contrary, she appreciated his participation in the resistance and the importance of the assassination in the history of both Czechoslovak and European anti-Nazi resistance fighting. She has worked on maintaining the legacy of her father together with prominent experts on the event, such as Vojtěch Šustek and Jaroslav Čvančara. Jiřina Juláková passed away on October, 2018