Karin Macháčková

* 1943

  • "My dad was... I never heard him say anything, he remained a die-hard communist. He remained convinced all the time that what he was doing was good. And that his beliefs were right. He stayed the way he... Because a lot of communists were shocked that the troops came in... He never admitted to being shocked by it, he was just old by then, so he also... He kind of thought it had to be that way..." - "And how did you and your husband feel about it?" - "Well, I never agreed with Dad, I was most of all never as convinced of it as he was. It was almost unhealthy, he was willing to give his life for it. And [believed] that the laws that came, that they were right. So maybe something, like the work obligation, maybe that was right, that we had the work obligation. I'm thinking today that it wasn't exactly the worst law." - "And Daddy, did he ever comment on the political processes?" - "Well. In front of us kids never. I don't remember him, in front of us, trying to convince us that it was right, but he never really discussed anything much. And I think it would have been pointless too, because we would each... my sister was a... my other sister died a month ago by the way, and she was a teacher all her life, she was a teacher, she taught Czech and history. And she also, well, she rather agreed with my dad, but she was never a convinced communist. She was a teacher, so she had to teach the way she... had to. But I- I had my convictions from the very beginning, and I think it was the times that carried it all. That even my mother sort of, of course, never approved of the suffering that was... that was going on in those concentration camps or what the Nazis did all that, but she just lived in that time and wanted to live. And she was young. It's hard to condemn those people for it."

  • "All her life she missed Germany, she never got used to it. And she always wanted to run away, and it happened that when Daddy was at work, at the boarding school, and we were at school, Mommy took a backpack, a piece of dry bread, and wanted to run away alone through the woods across the border. She thought that - she was just so naive that she thought if she ran somewhere deep in the woods she could get away, that she wouldn't get caught anywhere. And that she would come home, she wanted to return home. All her life - several times, probably four times, she failed to escape like that, you could say, because she was always caught by the border patrol because there were soldiers everywhere. It was already our soldiers who were guarding the border, so they always brought her back. Daddy had a terrible time with that afterwards. That was dangerous, Daddy had, well he was only lucky that he was... I can say it nowadays, otherwise I wouldn't brag about it, because he was a communist, only he was such an honest communist that he wouldn't steal a piece of toilet paper anywhere. And he never had anything. Never. He was convinced that the times that came for them, so that was right. That we were liberated. And that it was just right. Well, that was the only lucky thing, that when they called him the police afterwards to come and get my mum or something, it always sort of... You could say he talked around, talked around, he always said that he just, he didn't know about it and that, that it just, like, didn't work out that way. Well, that Mummy was longing to go back to Germany. Well, but it never worked, she had four attempts to escape - and it never worked. So then she didn't try anymore because she found out that she would either get shot or it would just end badly."

  • "My daddy was in that labour camp with my brother, who was not as likeable in character as my daddy, he was much more, more... like, he just didn't like the Germans. So it also happened that he was beaten up or someone hurt him. And sometimes he'd have to say something unpleasant to a German somewhere, and they'd take him aside and beat him so badly that they'd... my daddy said they'd knock all his teeth out. So his brother suffered a lot there. And so he endured all that until the 45', and when Daddy was coming back by those last trains, as a free man, actually, so his brother wouldn't have got back if he hadn't run away. He just would have probably been liquidated there before the war was over. But my parents, because they already had me in the carriage, so they got the biggest wicker carriage they could get in Rüdersdorf. And my dad took the risk of getting his brother out of that camp illegally, because those last days there were already such chaos in April, early May. And that last train, which was festooned full, that's what my parents told me that train was, so it was normally a train for... cattle trains it was, and it was full of people coming back from Germany, survivors. And his brother, they stuffed him into this big carriage, it was kind of deep and egg-shaped, and they stuffed him into the carriage because he was thin, he was weak, so they put him in the carriage, and put some rags on top of him, and they put me on top of it, and covered me, and on top of the blanket I was covered with, they had a loaf of bread. And that's how they got on the train with the carriage, which wasn't even carefully checked by the Germans, up to the border, yes, but in Prague, when they got to Prague, the train arrived, so they said at the station, my parents told me that the Germans were still there, which was interesting. That there were still German controls. And that they underwent so much terror and fear that they would look into that carriage and check. So they saw that a child was lying on top crying, so the control was not as strict anymore because they were in a hurry. They were checking everybody individually, but they just drove the carriage through and smuggled my uncle in the carriage."

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    Varnsdorf, 27.05.2023

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    duration: 02:20:53
    media recorded in project Příběhy regionu - Ústecký kraj
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My father was a die-hard communist, my mother believed Hitler was still alive

Karin Macháčková, Děčín, 1961
Karin Macháčková, Děčín, 1961
photo: Witness archive

Karin Macháčková was born on 17 December 1943 in the Rüdersdorf labour camp during one of the heaviest air raids on Berlin by the British Air Force. Her father went to Germany voluntarily to work to avoid being drafted into the army. There, he met the mother of the witness, who lost her German nationality after the marriage and had to live with her father in a labour camp. At the end of the war, the family returned home to Czechoslovakia with almost-two-year-old Karin, and her parents smuggled her father’s brother across the border in the bottom of her pram. They settled first in Hudlice near Beroun, then in Most and finally moved to the Děčín region as part of the settlement of the border area. Karin Macháčková’s childhood was not a happy one. She had three sisters whom she had to take care of due to her mother’s poor health. Moreover, her mother had longed to return to her native Germany all her life, so she tried to escape several times across the border. However, she was detained by the border guards each time, and her father, a die-hard communist, was in big trouble because of his wife’s behaviour. The witness studied reproduction photography, married and worked all her life in the Severografia printing house. She and her husband raised two children. In 2023, the witness lived in Česká Kamenice. We were able to record her story thanks to support from the Ústí nad Labem Region.