Josef Kocman

“So when I aged out of the Union of Communist Youth, [I was] 28 years and I was supposed to apply to join the party. So I kept quiet and they wrote me out, kicked me out of the youth party and I didn’t apply to join the communists. Nobody noticed, until I was about 35, then they saw me and asked: ‘Why aren’t you in the Communist Party?’ And they started pressuring me from all sides. ‘Either you’ll come, our you’ll be sent to do unqualified labour, you won’t be a craftsman and won’t be able to move, because the Communist Party is across the whole country. You’ll be stuck, both you and your family.’ As an electrician I was proud of my craft. If they kicked me out and sent me to dig ditches somewhere outside and I ended up retiring at 65 with ruined health, why wouldn’t I join at fifty? I told myself they wouldn’t ruin me, just like they hadn’t ruined the others. I told myself I wouldn’t be their beating horse, I’d go there, nod my head, raise my hand, cast my vote and goodbye. Where everyone else goes, I’d follow like a sheep. And that was it.”

“I remember it. A few of those families who had German names, like the Fikls, they were very close with the Germans. It wasn’t that they were rich, or were kulaks or millers. Everyone was equal in the village. They were taken to Bărăgan. Because they were close to the Germans. I remember the families: Jágr, Fikl – the grandfather of our teacher, Gecse and both of her uncles. It was altogether about 18 families that were sent to Bărăgan. It wasn’t that they’d done anything, but they were suspicious and someone had unwisely spoken against the Communist Party.”