Irena Ondruchová

“My father used to say, that we misplaced a bunch of flowers to a voting ticket. The Russians deserved the bucket, but definitely not the vote. When Gottwald won in February, 1948, he was desperate about it. ‚The nation will get to know,‘ he said. ‚The nation will get to know.‘ He died in April then.”

“Air bombs were tearing people´s lungs. Dead on the ground, blood running out of their mouth; not a pretty look indeed. Burial took place early. Rough-planed coffin laying stacked next to each other, waiting for more bodies brought from the morgue. Those, whose identity was unknown, still remained outside.”

“In the evening the doors opened up and we heard: ‚German nět?‘ ‚Here they are! Here they are!‘ everyone rejoiced. They came downstairs, liked our watch, my uncle took them off and gave it to them! We were glad they were there. First we were giving them stuff with joy, but later we did not. It was just not the same anymore.”