Jan Valter

“Americans organised dances on the boulevard. I wish you could see how they treated the boys and girls whom they drove to the dances. Peanut butter, biscuits, coffee! It was amazing. And the US Army had their own band in Plzeň that would come and play: In The Mood... Boy could they dance... The girls who had the rhythm and could dance held up, but those who had no rhythm dropped out, blushing, they did not manage. (...) Of course, we would sneak in and wanted some sweets. But we were twelve years old, so when they spotted us they went, ‘Hallo, hallo!’ and ran us outside!”

“There was a guy, four years older than me, in our village and he was the district secretary of the communist party. He insisted on setting up the cooperative in the village at all costs. It was a matter of yes or no. Those who would not join would have a tough time. My father was reluctant and the secretary told him: ‘Mr Valter, think about it. If you don’t sign it, it will be bad for you.’ You see, dad had to sign it because we would be evicted otherwise. I want to say this because it did happen. When he was a little boy, my dad saved his life when he fell down from a bridge and ruptured an artery on his leg. My dad constricted his leg with suspenders above his knee; it was all he knew. They said, ‘Mr Valter, we will be grateful for this you until we die.’ See, this man became a politician and forced my dad into the cooperative, no excuses. So dad simply had to join the cooperative.”