Eliška Hronová

“My first education was in the Czech school in Slavonice, which was a minority school. There were only two classes and five departments, because Slavonice was basically a German town. The people living there were different than those in the Sudetenland here. They spoke a different dialect, too, the Vienna dialect, they felt to be more Austrians. During the uncontrolled deportation they all had to leave their houses within two hours. I have always felt as a Czech. My mom was a great Czech patriot. During the First Republic era, there were only a few Czechs in Slavonice, only state officials. There was a Czech school, and Česká Beseda, the pub. At the back there was a hall where they played Czech theatre, and my mom served as a prompter.”

“When the Germans were coming, my dad remained in Slavonice. My mom took me, Bohouš who was a year younger, Eva – born in 1932 and little Janička – born in 1936, and we ran away. Mom was a Czech and dad was a German, and so he stayed at home. One of my older sisters worked in Poděbrady, the second one in Zlín and the third one near Kladno, and they were thus not in Slavonice. They decided to register as Czechs. They were Czechs. We, little children, got registered as Germans because of daddy, and that had consequences for us! We were housed in the chateau (in Třešť), and we slept there for one or two nights. Some gentlemen then came there and inquired if there were any Czechs and half-Czechs from Slavonice and the surroundings. They saw Mrs. Kvapilová with four children. We had two pigs ant home and dad stayed at home, because he didn’t want to leave them there for Hitler, as he said. He said that he would remain in Slavonice and see what would happen. When these officials found out that dad was in our house, they said to mom: ´Mrs. Kvapilová, what do you want to do here with these four kids?´”

“During the war I was employed in the Baťa company in a detached office in Vienna, it was called BEAG – Baťa’s export company. Because Vienna suffered from the bombardment, we were transferred to Sušice. Thus I experienced the end of the war in Sušice, which was liberated by Americans. I stayed in the home of Mrs. Šebestová. The atmosphere in our office was nervous. I didn’t not have much interest in politics, I was nineteen, but there were various rumours – that the Americans are already in such and such place. Suddenly, one morning, we were told that the Americans were already coming, that they were not in Sušice yet, but in some of the neighbouring villages. I was so curious that I left and I walked to the town square. There were already some people there. The German armies had passed through before all this happened. Suddenly we heard loud noise, a big vehicle. There town square is sloping downhill and there is the town hall in the middle, over there there is the hotel Fialka and the road from where the armoured vehicle arrived. Soldiers with firearms jumped out of it and immediately asked the people if the German soldiers were there, but they were already gone. They did not find any Germans here anymore. Some man, probably a policeman, came there and said: ´What are you doing here? Please, go home! You don’t know what is going to happen. Nobody knows what’s going to happen!´ I had to go back. This was my first day.”

“In 1938, I was twelve, and we were the ´Saopem.´ My little sister could not speak German yet and so I spoke to her in Czech when we were outside. One girl from our street, who was already a little young lady, said: ´Now it is over with the Czech babbling, you now have to speak in German.´ We were the ´Saopem.´ And in 1945 we were collaborationists. The jazz orchestra Malina arrived to Sušice and we liked dance music. When I remember this, I feel so much anger. We wanted to go for the dance, too. There was a break in the middle of the programme. Some guy, I don’t even remember who it was, jumped out and shouted: ´The collaborationists are here. Collaborationists, get out!´ It was not nice. The beginning was not nice, but then it got better. Although things got better, Arnošt and I did not want to stay there. His reason was the German army, and that was bad. There were good guys, too, who were moving to Slavonice. We were young and nice girls, and later they began to accept us. But the beginning was nasty.”