Ing. Jiří Klimeš

“Then the changes were becoming imminent and they were pushing us hard to join the farms collective. I remember that pressure very well. We were just digging out potatoes on the field when a truck with two men in leather coats came to our farm. They called my mom and tried hard to persuade her to join the collective. At first they tried it the kind way. They told her that she had a good reputation and respect in the village and that if she joined the collective others would follow suit. But my mom refused to join. However, later on, it wasn’t possible anymore to resist – she had to sign the application. So we actually lost what we had for a second time. On our part, it wasn’t about clinging to property. We considered it to be a family tradition that’s worth carrying on.”

“These transports were some of the most tragic tales. They stayed here for a day or two, I don’t remember exactly any more. When they were leaving, they had such a tiny bundle on their shoulder. I don’t know what was in it, probably some clothes or something like that. Some were too tired to carry and thus they were simply dragging it on the ground, sometimes on a plank. It was in the winter and there was snow on the ground. As they marched through our village we were standing by and looking on. We kids had been going down the hills on snow sleighs before and now we were standing there with our sleighs. When my mom saw how miserable they were, she gave them our sleigh. She pushed the sleigh to the middle of the column and I remember how the people in the column were surprised about it. They turned around and wondered if the sleigh had gotten loose accidentally. But my mom gave them a sign that they might keep it. They happily kept it and loaded their belongings on it.”

“Before his execution, my father wrote a farewell letter from prison. Because the execution somehow coincided with the Easter holidays, they postponed the execution. Later, after it had been executed, we received a message about it and I vividly remember how... At that time we had already been kicked out of our farmstead because for treason you were deprived of your property. So at first we were moved from our house to the retirement cottage of my grandparents. We all lived there then for some time and that’s where the news of the execution found us. I remember that we were all kneeing and praying. The candles were burning. I remember all of this vividly.”

“We only spent a certain time in the retirement cottage of our grandparents that was located in our farmstead. I remember vividly that on one beautiful day, men in leather coats wearing caps with the Totenkopf insignia entered the room. They entered the room and said that we were required to leave the house within 24 hours. My mom begged them to give us a bit more time as we had nowhere else to go. I think that our argument was that my grandfather was sick. So they moved the deadline a little bit and we thus had more time to think about where we would go. Eventually, we were helped Karel Osadník who lived in former Vlaštovičky. We distinguish between Vlaštovičky and Jarkovice. He let us stay with his family at their farmstead. We occupied one room at their farm – us and my grandparents. Our whole family lived there till 1945.”