Antonie Kechrtová

“My mother was burned to death in a village called Ukrajinský Malín. They were driven into a barn and there we found her. My mother had golden teeth so I recognized her. She was lying with her face turned up. Under her chest her clothes had endured the flames. She was wearing two shirts and two sweaters despite that it was hot and mid-summer. It was clear she had prepared for a long journey. They probably had thought the Germans would transport them far away.”

“We made a stop in a nearby village Ostrozec and stayed at house of family Jon. They told us: ‘We don’t know what is happening in Malin. Nobody from Malin had appeared, there is shooting going on, and houses are in flames.” Then a thunderstorm came. It was raining until 11 p.m. We continued to village Kneruty and stayed there over night. Men left horses behind and set out on foot for Malin to realize what was going on. As they were approaching the village there was a strange silence. They entered Malin from an end where the house of my uncle stood. His house endured the burning unlike mine. We had a nice house made of stone. It was destroyed and burned down. Men had been waiting silent in uncle’s house. They were afraid to proceed further. They thought Germans were still in the village.”

“My father was put in a large room of a school with other men. Men were sitting in school benches. Suddenly the door opened and soldiers threw grenades inside. When men saw what was happening they started to jump out of windows into a school garden. There I found my father. He had to be shot to death in the garden only because he was able to jump out of the window. He was badly wounded. Mr. Uhlir, who survived, got three bullets in his leg. As they were fleeing from the school, Germans were shooting at them and everybody fell somewhere. Uhlir told us he heard a lot of screaming, and everybody was wounded. Germans then checked if someone was still alive and shot him: ‘my leg was covered in blood, but I kept my mouth shut, and didn't move the slightest. If they had realized I was still alive they would have shot me to death.’”

“When we were leaving for the town Luck, my sister had been pasturing cows. She was sitting on a balk reading a book, waving her hand at us. My uncle called at her: ‘Leave the cows here and come with us,’ he smiled at her. She answered: ‘Just go, good luck!’ At the evening she drove cows home. Young Hamáček worked on a field. He already knew something strange had been happening. Later he told us his younger brother had climbed up a high lime tree at a cemetery to watch the situation in Malín. Thus he had seen my sister driving cows home and he decided to go with her despite the warning of his brother. He had joined my sister and he perished too.”