"This one Soviet officer was sitting there, he was on duty - each watched his own bit, so he pushed me with his valenki, his felt boot, and he said: 'Nabludaj!' That means 'watch out, be careful, in case of a fighter plane...' Well and when he did that for a third time, I said to him: 'You're all dressed up like bears, and I'm frozen so stiff, I can hardly press my lips.' So he took me by the hand, led me into the cockpit and dressed me up in furs, I got a ushanka and a pair of gloves, and only then in the warm... When we neared the front, then all around us, as I could see in the window, all these timed shells blowing up in the air to act as decoys. And now the carbon from the exhaust, well it accumulates and then it sparks along the steel plates, and it feels as if one was hit by shrapnel. But it was just a scratch, it might have been smaller bits of shrapnel. So one felt kind of queasy, on edge... When we finally got past the front and the decoys remained behind us, getting further and further away, it was calm again, just the drone of the motors..."
"And then it was my turn. At the time, I protested. I thought that nothing could happen to me if I told them the truth to eyes. And I stood up, when the three interrogators, each from one corner of the room, bombarded me with political questions, where did my master go, where is my master's gold, so I said to them: 'Look, I'll complain about you right to the Kremlin, to marshal Stalin, to the highest authorities of Soviet Union, the way you treat the working class.' Understandably, this defence of mine worked, so that one of them, who probably headed the interrogation team, gave me some forms to fill in, that they would send me to Moscow for a year for political schooling."
"And so we arrived at Žilina and we stayed there. I had the rank of Second Lieutenant, so I was given board with civilians. The proprietress welcomed us, a Slovak lady of course, and she said: 'I trust ye will no' be stealin' like them Soviet soldiers tha' liberated us. They even asked us to lock tha wardrobes, an' they gave us tha keys, as we had our best belongin's there. An' when I went away, they turned the cupboard around, prised tha back off with a bayonet an' looted it an' put it back agin.' So that's the kind of thing that was happening there. Well and so I said to her: 'Well surely you trust that the Czechoslovak army doesn't do such dastardly things.' "
"Well, put it like this, parachuting was for us, as our instructors told us, the best sport of modern times. But I couldn't see anything enticing about it, because to jump with a parachute from a kilometre or more above ground, there was nothing enticing about that. Well, you know, I never really was a hero, but I saw it as my duty as a soldier of the Czechoslovak army, to do whatever my country asked of me."
"And off we flew. But it was an unpleasant situation for us at the time, as only the officers had parachutes. High-ranking officers had parachutes, and we in the lower ranks had already handed in our parachutes at the main warehouse in Przemysl, because we were flying to Slovakia not as paratroopers, but as aid to the Slovak National Revolt. Well, and our commander, colonel Přikryl, was a real ace, when he got in the plane, he had this servant, Míša, one Transcarpathian Ukrainian, he had the rank of private or corporal I think, I'm not sure now, and he said to him: 'Míša, my parachute is straining me, I'd rather be rid of it.' You see, he was making this psychological effect on us soldiers, him taking off his parachute and saying: 'Boys, who wants a parachute?' The servant asked for it and put it on himself."
It would be good if people, especially teachers, knew more about veterans and about the resistance, if this part of history was put to right I trust that most young people are proud of their nation, are patriotic, and that our descendants will uphold our country’s rightful position
Mikuláš Šereťuk was born in 1916 in the village of Kvasilov in west Volhynia. His father was of Ukrainian nationality and worked as a farm hand, then later as bailiff for a farmer named Josef Jandura. Šereťuk’s mother, a Czech, (nee Chramostová) worked as a cook on the same estate. Šereťuk also worked on the estate during the 30s, later he underwent apprenticeship as a baker. In the early 40s, he was called on for military training by the Red Army in Žitomir. He underwent six months of training, completed it with the rank of junior sergeant, and was entered into the recruitment registry as a specialist with non-standard drafting rights “at the special request of the Red Army during mobilization”. He did not enter active service within the Red Army, because a German bombing run destroyed the registry of recruits in reserve. He stayed at home, working in the warehouse of a farm and acting as a group leader in the Blaník organization. They distributed the magazine “Blaník” and spread information among Czech citizens of the actions of the Czechoslovak army. On the 2nd of February 1944, the village of Kvasilov was liberated and Šereťuk joined the Czechoslovak army. He was given paratrooper training. He had nine practice jumps, he also trained the use of weapons and explosives, reconnaissance and the capture of enemy soldiers. His first combat action was in the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains, near Krosno. After three weeks he was re-assigned to aid the Slovak National Revolt (SNP), where he acted as guard for the brigade HQ in Badín, not far from Banská Bystrica. He took part in operations of partisan character. After the war he settled down in an estate vacated by Germans in Lhota in the Žatec district. After the collectivization he worked in state farming and completed studies at the Technical Agricultural School in Žatec. He then moved to Karlovy Vary. He passed away in October, 2010.
