Eva Václavíková

“From 1942, we had to wear the yellow star on our coats. And because my father was a Christian he protected us. He protected my mother but because I was Jewish I was expected to be transported to a concentration camp sooner than my mother. As in the book of Ota Pavel, children were separated. People usually gave us a memo of the transfers so my father always took me away. He had a sister in Mutěnice so I was always hidden there until the deportations left. When my mother was supposed to go, her doctor prescribed that she can’t go for health reasons. He also prescribed the same thing to me so we didn’t leave with the first transfer. So we went as late as 1942 when they announced that they would come home for anyone who couldn’t be transported for health reasons. That would be much worse, those people went straight to the gas chamber. It was also a great risk for the doctor, same as had been for professor Voráček who baptized me in 1940. He was a friend of my father, so he baptized me but it wasn’t acknowledged. He also risked being persecuted or transferred to a concentration camp.”

“Grandma always said: ‘Your dad will come home when the war is over. But your mum will not come back, she won’t survive. Theresienstadt is much worse than Bystřice.’ The happier I was on 11th of May when a lorry stopped in front of the house and my father came out and there was my mother, small and tiny. He carried her down from the lorry as if she were a child. She weighted 36 kilograms and her head was shaved. My father escaped from Bystřice to Prague before the Uprising started and my mom escaped from Theresienstadt on 4th of May. Somebody who worked at the railway helped her to get to Prague where she met my father. He was defending one of the houses and my mother was piling up barricades (during the Prague Uprising). Meeting them was the best thing that happened to me in my entire life, apart from the fact that later I had two children.”

“None of us had any food stamps apart form my father. Me and my mother, we had food stamps with "Jude" printed all over them. So instead of 500 grams of flour we had 500 grams of bread, and instead of five rolls we had 50 grams of flour. We found out after the war, maybe father knew it but he didn’t tell us, that Mr. Marek was giving us food-stamps for children because he had two kids. There was no tableware at the time. They (Marek’s family) made tableware and sold it or traded it for food. So he helped us. When my father was arrested, each month we found food stamps in our mailbox. Somebody had put them there – at that time we didn’t know who it was. Our neighbours went to the shops to buy the food for us; we could not enter the shops. We had really nice neighbours. The Rotts were a poor German family and Mrs. Rott always brought me something to eat every evening. I don’t know what happened to them after the war. There was also an evil Czech neighbour who we had to avoid.”

“After the war, my mother had to examine Germans before they were displaced. There was a lady who just had a baby. We lived on food rations after the war so my mother would sometimes bake a cake and brought it to her with a portion of milk. The lady could not breastfeed because of the stress she went through. And when my mom had to take gold and jewelry from them – Czechs did the same Germans had done to them before – she would give this jewelry back to the baby’s napkins so that nobody could see that. She knew what horror some of those women went through in Theresienstad, once she saw an SS Gruppenführer Rahm trampling a child to death with his horse. The Red Cross came and the guards built a playground so they could see that the Jews do not really suffer there. Children had to call him Onkel Rahm (uncle Rahm) and when the Swiss Red Cross went away there was a very small child who called him Onkel Rahm and he killed it right away. My mother saw all those atrocities and she was so sad from all that she would never do any harm to a child.”