"They (the Germans) were arriving from the top of the mountains, not on the road. We all were hiding in the ditches. My dad got up. But they let him go, because he was old. I remember I was walking outside wearing this bed cover on my head and so did my mom. My dad used to cover us with dirt and stayed himself around the door. He said it looks like the war is about to begin, he heard the tanks coming down from the mountains. It was a pure miracle, that they didn’t rode over us, because they were passing us so close. We got out off the ditch and they said: ´Russian, Russian´."
"There was no church available anymore in 1937...But we were already grown up and had no place to go dancing. We got the permission from the collective farm deputy to use one church as a dancing hall. We had to paint it all new. I have had few girls to help me with it. I bought nine lamps and we asked the boys to hang the up. We hired the music band. We knew who we wanted to play there. Each of us paid one ruble (former Russian currency) for that. We painted it all white, repainted all the saints on the wall. I said to those girls: ´I must have committed a huge sin by doing this. But what could we do? Let those from above watching us? We better cleaned it all. People are so different; some believe it, some don’t."
"What have they done to me? Women were hiding the wheat grain tided up around their waist. On my first day there, my mom made some coffee and bread for me, so I have something to eat. And guess what they did? When I drank all of my coffee they filled up the bottle with the wheat grain. I have had no idea about it. I put it back in my sack, where the dirty clothes were. I have put on the clean clothes and headed home. At the gate they checked my stuff and of course, they found it! There was a penalty of seven years in prison for just half of a gallon of grain. I saw the women being terrified that I will tell on them. I saw them hiding the wheat into their stockings before. After they searched all over me I broke in tears. I told them it was my first day at work, so why would I dare to steel anything! They had to call the head officer and my chief too. They both told them to let me go...The women were running so fast leaving a dust cloud behind them...One of the women was sentenced to seven years."
"We had to leave everything behind, all we carried was a bed covers and some sheets. We left to Crimea...There were Germans tanks and trucks loaded on the ship we traveled on. Our pilots flew above us and were dropping notes for us to let us know, that they will not throw bombs on us, not to worry. It is so hard to describe this. Some women among us took their bandana off their head and were waving with it so the pilots knew we were hiding there underneath the trucks and tanks. And that’s basically how we survived."
"Our grandpa also wanted to go. He was grassing the cows here in Methodejka village and he said:´I will take you with me.´But they wouldn´t issue the visa to such poor people anymore. So we stayed. He wanted me so much to go with him. He would say:´Maria is still little, but we can take you.´And I have agreed I would go. But we never left after all."
Mrs. Emílie (Miroslava) Králová was born on November 5th 1928 in Methodeyka, near by Novorossiysk in Russia. From her parents and grandparents she heard the family story about their coming to Russia from Czech. During her childhood she saw the collectivization and Second World War on the battlefield in Novorossiysk and later on the work on Crimea. After the war the possibility of repatriation to Czechoslovakia was not succeed. She also never visited the mother land of her ancestors. She spent all her life in USSR, she married Czech man from Kirillovka (village) and they had three children. She had very few information about Czechoslovakia. The Czech language is her mother language and she uses it actively up to her death in 2013.
