“The Yellow Star on my chest was the mark of Cain. People turned away from us quite often. Our old acquaintances suddenly did not want to know us. Parents forbade their children to see me. Now I think that this was probably not due to their anti-Semitism, but rather due to fear so that they would not be marked as friends of Jews. On the other hand, though, there were also people who were helping us. Neighbours from the house where we lived invited me for lunch every day. We suffered from shortage of food. Dad and I only had food ration stamps for bread and potatoes. We used mom’s coupons for lard and meat. But it was not enough and my mom thus had to do what was forbidden. She was shopping in the black market. She was exchanging jewelry for food. But the way it was, like a ring in exchange for one egg. Apart from some exceptions, Czech farmers proved to be people who could jump at an opportunity. During the war, mom exchanged everything that had some value for food. That was life. What really saved me was that I was going for lunch to our neighbours for such a long time.”
„Pamatuji si jeden takový okamžik, kdy nás Hitlerjugend tak nějak sehnali dohromady a nacpali nás do takových… Jestli znáte plzeňské divadlo, tak z boku je tam terasa. Na kraji jsou balustrády. Tak tam nás nahnali, protože my jsme se nemohli bránit. Oni měli dýky a oni by ty dýky neváhali použít. A nikomu z Hilerjugend by se nic nestalo. A tam nás postavili ke zdi a trefovali se do nás tenisovými míčky. Samozřejmě okolo nás chodili lidé, klopili hlavami a dělali, že to neviděli. Já se tomu ani nedivím. Měli strach. Fakt je jedna věc, že když bylo po válce a člověk si promítal všechny ty zlé okamžiky, tak jsem si říkal, že to musím vytěsnit. To jsem ani netušil, co všechno v životě mě ještě čeká. Ale říkal jsem si: ‚Válku, Hitlerjugend, SS – vytěsnit.‘ Nemyslel jsem na to, nevzpomínal jsem na to a dneska jsou to jenom takové střípky – fragmenty, které si z té doby pamatuji. Jediné, co si člověk pamatuje, je takový strach.“
„A už se tady začali srocovat lidé. Karlovými Vary táhnul takový průvod, taková demonstrace. A jakoby zázrakem se tam objevily transparenty jako: ‚Každý rudý buran chtěl by český uran.“ Nebo si pamatuji, že kluci od nás z Útvaru hlavního architekta nakreslili takový transparent, který vyvěsili na kolonádě. Tam bylo: ‚Lenine probuď se, Brežněv se zbláznil.‘ Lidová tvořivost byla tenkrát na vysoké úrovni, protože takových transparentů se tu objevilo hodně. Pamatuji si, že dnešní třídou Bechera – tenkrát to byla Dimitrova – tak jeli dolů, protože tenkrát byla průjezdná ulice u Pošty. (…) Dolů jely ty gazíky. A v zástupu byl schovaný jeden můj kamarád. Ten měl na tyči přivázaný kámen a vždycky se vynořil, práskl do toho a rozbil přední sklo.“
„Samozřejmě na to nejsem hrdý, že jsem byl členem strany. Ale je to třeba vše uvážit. Ta situace za války. Před válkou Mnichov, kdy nás západní spojenci zradili. Potom jsme neměli dost informací, co se v tom Sovětském svazu děje. A myslím, že celý národ byl spíš levicově zaměřen. Já jsem byl v té straně takové zlé dítě, protože – končilo to tím Izraelem – jsem spoustu věcí neschvaloval. Ale nechci se obhajovat. Je to prostě tak a není to nic, za co bych se styděl.“
„Ten hvizd bomb, to je něco příšerného, protože to slyšíte a neustále se to zesiluje a vy vlastně nevíte, kam spadne. A jedna ta bomba spadla taky vedle nás, vedle našeho domu. Ten [dům vedle] se sesypal. Čili to byl takový hvizd, bum, v našem domě spadly necky a pak takový ten zvuk, jak se něco sype, jak se ten dům vedle sesypával. To zdivo. To bylo velice nepříjemné, protože jsme nevěděli, jestli jsme to my nebo jaký dům to je. Potom, když nálet skončil, tak jsme šli ven s maminkou, ale lidi křičeli: ‚Nechoďte ven, tady je spousta nevybuchlých pum!‘ To je zase taková věc, kterou nemůžete ovlivnit. Bylo to nepříjemné, ale jako chlapec to asi tak zle nevnímáte. Je to takové dobrodružství a dalo se s tím žít.“
„Z té doby mám spoustu takových vzpomínek a nerad na to vzpomínám. Bylo to období údělu člověka nebo dítěte druhého řádu. Pociťoval jsem to i ve svém okolí, protože známí – ne všichni samozřejmě – ale někteří známí se od nás odvraceli. Nemyslím si, že to byl antisemitismus. Byl to spíš strach, aby nebyli nařčeni, že se stýkají se Židy. Ale našlo se pár rodin, kteří se nebáli. A jedna taková rodina mě v dobách největší bídy… Protože my jsme měli – maminka a já – potravinové lístky jenom na brambory a na chleba. Takže tihle Češi – naši bývalí sousedé – mě zvali denně na oběd. To byla veliká pomoc.“
“We moved to Karlovy Vary in January 1946 with my mom when dad received an apartment there. After we moved in, we were informed that we would be included in the deportations, because mom was a German. We were thus getting ready, because my mom’s sisters were already there. Naturally, dad protested, and he was pointing out the absurdity of the whole situation. But eventually there was some reasonable official who stood up for us. Thus the deportation did not happen, but there was a very real danger of being deported.”
Jan Spira was born in 1934 in Pilsen into a mixed family. His father was Jewish and he worked as a specialist for telephones in a large company in Pilsen. His mother was a German by origin and she was a housewife. The family spoke German at home. Jan’s earliest memories go back to the Czech kindergarten where he learnt Czech. He did not start attending the first grade of elementary school - as a person of mixed Jewish heritage, he was not to have any education according to Nazi regulations. This was followed by a period when Jan grew increasingly aware that he was different from other children. The family was forced to vacate their apartment and hand it over to a high-ranking Nazi. Jan’s mom often had to face threats in the Gestapo office in Pilsen. They wanted her to divorce Jan’s father. For Germans it was humiliating that she as a pure-blooded German was married to a Jewish man. She courageously endured the pressure and she did not divorce him. She thus saved her husband’s life as well as the life of little Jan. The anti-Jewish laws were becoming even stricter. Jan’s father had to leave his managerial position in the company and he worked as a labourer in kaolin mines. Thanks to his qualifications, the Prague Jewish Community later requested him to work in their telephone switch room. At the end of the war he was interned in the labour camp in Hagibor in Prague. Little Jan remained at home in Pilsen with his mother. When he wanted to go out and play his favorite game of soccer, he would take the risk and leave the house without the yellow Star of David on his chest. He remembers the behaviour of some of their Czech neighbours. Some turned away from the family immediately. However, others were helping, such as neighbours who regularly invited Jan over for lunch. The life in Pilsen under the Protectorate was not easy. It was full of restrictions, fear for their father and conflicts with boys from Hitlerjugend. Fanatic boys with a mistaken idea of their superiority made it very clear to children like Jan. Their victims found it hard to reconcile with the fact that they had nobody to turn to for justice. At the end of the war, the Škoda factory in Pilsen became the target of Allied bombing. Jan remembers the horrible time in a bomb shelter under their house. In 1946 he moved with his parents to Karlovy Vary where his father received a job as a director of a branch of a telephone company. At that time, Jan’s mother received an order for deportation from Czechoslovakia due to her German nationality. The family had to deal with an absurd situation which the turbulent period after the war brought about. Jan liked to play the piano. However, he was not allowed to study music due to his unfavourable personal-political profile. He thus graduated from the faculty of architecture and civil engineering at the Czech Technical University. He did not abandon music, and he was a member of many music ensembles both as a student, as well as later in his job. Even now he is engaged in music professionally. Jan Spira is one of prominent figures in the music scene in Karlovy Vary. Jan Spira died on 18 August 2019.
