Mirko Veselý

“My dad used to go to work at 5 a.m. because it took him a long time to travel by tram to Podbaba. I remember the bedroom door bursting open, lights being turned on, him storming in wearing a uniform. He turned on the radio and was swearing terribly which never happened before. He said there was no way he’d go somewhere in the uniform as Russians were not playing any games. And he disappeared once again. Me and my grandma went to the store to get supplies because she lived through wartime and learnt her lesson. She said times would be hard and that there might be no food. So we went to buy flour. It had calmed down over time in some way but I still recall the torn down and painted over signposts and notices. I was also fascinated by the military camps here in the fields.”

“The second summer camp was bizarre. The communists were already completely confident then, and we camped near Říčany, in a valley of a small creek. Twelve children in ordinary, borrowed tents. My mum was already fired from school back then because of one Bolshevik family which accused her of mingling with the scouts. She wasn’t a party member so they fired her from her teaching job. She then went to teach at a village school. We were young, enthusiastic, and wanted to carry on scouting. She said: ‘This won’t end up well. Take something to cover the notice board at least.’ Back then there was a Russian magazine called Ogoniok, and in one issue they published a large colored map of the Soviet Union. We brought it with us to our mini-camp. There was me, my brother, one other chief, and twelve boys. We were having a blast. Suddenly a shiny black Tatra car drove in and parked at the meadow. A woman from a communist family walked out along with some regional officials. They went to check upon those orgies of ours. I only had time to shout: ‘Go to the notice board and put the map on!’ The weekly program was quickly covered by that map. The delegation went for inspection through the camp. There was just a fireplace and a couple tents. On the notice board there was a piece of paper under visible under the map: ‘Dinner – Seton’s pot.’ The woman asked what it meant. I replied: ‘Comrade, it’s the same as the Gipsy pot.’ So they drove off.”