„She was cooking jam. There was a boiler in the hall with little gates on both sides. My father was a saddler and had a visit from a man, who opened one of the gates. The wind blew and my mum´s skirt caught on fire. My youngest sister and I were standing on a side. We pushed mother quickly to the bed sheets rolling her over and over. She had lovely long hair, which was all burning. So we called a doctor immediately. He had a car and took her to the Olomouc hospital. She gave birth to a boy and died on October 3. My daddy´s new wedding was at the New Years, as we were four kinds. He also took care about a cow and a pig. And an old dad, my father´s father, also helped cooling mum down. His hand was all burnt, three fingers all twisted and in his leg the fire burnt a hole.“
„They tied their eyes and took them to the little wood at Hraničky, where they have their grave today. They shot them there. They told them, they´d go to trial. My granda dis from Hraničky and said there was a soldier and wanted two half-litre empty flasks. The Germans, who killed them, probably got a snaps for it. As they brought them back, we went to look at František. He was there in a passage. His right arm was up and only two fingers. There was a tiny hole in his forehead and everything out in the back of his head. His brain ran out. I have not seen Krejčí. As the soldiers came to him, his sons were not there, so they took the old Krejčí instead of them.“
„I was already going to school and was at home. It was around the year 1944 and they were chasing the prisoners over Loštice. It was quiet horrid, there was a terrible cold. They had stripy hats, some rags on and wooden shoes. Warders and soldiers with dogs were keeping eye on them and if someone needed to take a leak, they shot him. So it was leaking all over them as they walked. As they left people were flushing it down from the street. They marched from around Olomouc. Where did they take them? But really it was horrible; those eyes, like dead men’s .“
„First they walked around the village, where they located their soldiers to sleep. Here they were two. One of them a true German, gingery as a fox, who would not leave for a toilet without his gun. The other one was smaller and quiet a nice man. He was looking forward to go home to see his founr kids. He would still cuddle me in the afternoon and he left in the evening. He wanted some milk, so granny gave him some, and bread and he went to take care of the horses. Here under our window they shot him. He managed to crawl over here. It was half past ten and it all started. The soldiers were running out and shooting like crazy. At around five in the morning, it was still dark, they´d chase our men. They chased our grandad around the loft to find partisans. But there were none here.“
A German soldier was rocking her on his lap in the afternoon. He was shot in the evening.
Františka Kyselá, born Pudilová, was born on 23 May 1934 in Loštice. Her childhood and whole life was strongly influenced by a tragic event from 29 October 1939. Then she saw her own mother burning to death in front of her. Since then she has been living in Vranová Lhota. She experienced how only one day before the end of was the Germans almost shoot all the men in the town. Finally they let them go but the life of a single German army officer was paid by three lives of innocent citizens of Vranová Lhota. After 1948 she witnessed founding of the local united agricultural cooperative and a systematic repression of local farmers, one of the wealthiest ones, František Henzl, ended together with his sons in a communist prison. Františka Kyselá died in June 2020.