Emanuela Köhler

* 1924

  • “So I thought: 'This can't be happening!' And I wrote this beautiful letter of request where I stated that I would like to visit my mother in Theresienstadt. So send me a permission. And I got the permission in a week! And they stated exactly: 'You have to have someone to accompany you and you also need this white armband with a letter N on it and you can go.' And Mrs Dufková, she gave me this Koffer (a suitcase). And she would cry with me. So she gave my this Koffer full of stuff, as there was a festival. So they gave me this pies. A kilo of butter. A kilo of lard. Some bread. And I carried this suitcase all the way to Litoměřice. And as I was getting off the train there was this young man, Czech officer. 'Young lady, where are you going with that suitcase?' I said: 'I have to get to Theresienstadt.' - 'What will you be doing there?' - 'My mother's there.' So he took the suitcase and he had been carrying it for me. As we were still hour away from Theresienstadt. So we got there. And I saw this: 'Arbeit macht frei” and those soldiers standing there, keeping an eye on everything. And they gave him a salute right away as he had a higher rank. And he would leave me in the guardhouse and those lads would say: 'What do you want, girl?' - 'I want to see my mother, she's been locked up in here.' So they made a phone call and my mother appeared. Just Haut und Knochen, just skin and bones. 'How did you get here?' -'I wrote a request, you wouldn't expect what I was capable of! I wrote a request and they agreed.' And Mrs Dufková, the farmer's wife, gave me so much food and I wanted to give it to my mother. And I offered those lads some cake but they were like, 'No, just keep it.' There were maybe hundred people, intelligentsia and women writers, in that Kerker (dungeon) where they locked them up. They had no food and then I came with the whole suitcase. Later, my mother wrote this beautiful letter, a postcard, to Mrs Dufková. 'Mrs Dufková, the Good Lord will repay you for your kind deeds.'”

  • “After that, there was a revolution. So you couldn't go out. After 8 PM, there was a curfew. No German could go out, no one. And my mother said: 'I was born there, I could go where I want to.' And she had this Bavarian hat, a Bavarian coat and Haferlschuh (German hiking shoes). So after that, she just walked all over Prague. And this man came – they called them partisans. 'You, German, you can't just walk the streets, I have to arrest you!' So he took her to the command and some Mr Commandeer asked her: 'Mrs Janulová, are you German or Czech?' - 'I am German and I am proud of it.' - 'Well, so I have to arrest you.' So they put her in a transport and she ended up at the stadium. And all the people there had diarrhea, so all the coats and everything they had was just covered with poop. And from there they took her to Theresienstadt.”

  • “And we stood there in line like slaves. Like they did it in Africa. And Mr Dufek came, a farmer from Pševes. 'She's got some muscle, I'll take her.' So he took me. And the other two girls went to the farmer next to him, to the boilermaker. But they wouldn't be there for a long time, but me, I had to work for half a year there. We would thin out the beet and we would take care of it one day after another. And after that, it was the harvest time, so I had to operate that device and so on. And in the meantime , those two boys showed up, they were seventeen years old, from Berlin. And they didn't speak Czech. And the third one, he was such a student that he would learn Czech in half a year. I admired him so much! He just learned it from me.'

  • “They would chase us all across Prague. And they told us: 'Now you can shout Heim ins Reich, now you can go back to the Reich!' And the boys would come up, to find some German women who spoke Czech. 'Girls, we have some work for you and you could even get some food.' So we would walk through the Havlíčkova Street together all the way to the square, there was a police station. 'You can wash dishes here and you would also get something to eat.' In the morning, the boys came. 'Girls, let's go to work!' Those of us who spoke Czech. There were also some girls from Budějovice and the Southern Bohemia, so we all spoke Czech. But the Reich Germans, they all said: 'We wouldn't work for those Czechs, don't even think of that, why would we?' Well, they didn't go. But we would go and we had a good time, as the boys were having fun with us. As young people, they were not like the others. They would keep an eye on us so no one would do no harm to us as they were chasing us all over Prague. So that no harm would be done to us. And later, I told one of them: 'I have a sister, a twin sister. And she has this two year old boy and he's so hungry. In the school, in Benda Street in Smíchov.' So he gave me this huge piece of bread with marmalade and I was so proud as I walked carrying that bread. And then those scruffy, toothless old hags showed up: 'Now she's got something to eat one again, that German swine!' So I got scared and I hid the bread under my coat. Today, he is seventy five years old, I told him the story and he said, that I saved his life. As I brought the bread and the boy was so happy! As we had just this soup. Water with a slice of cabbage in it. That was all we've got.”

  • “They surrendered on the 8th of May. And they locked us up in the cellar. And there was a word going on: 'There are some SS men down there!' And there indeed were those four SS men, good looking young men. They were kept in a separate cell. And as they were SS they had these tattoos, the blood group tattoos. They locked them up. And their friends wanted to free them from the surface. They wanted to go through the sewers. We thought that was too dangerous. And there were soldiers standing in the doorway with rifles. And one of them came and he said: 'We have this boy here, he's fourteen and he doesn't speak Czech, so you have to translate for him. So we would translate and he said that he was shooting with those... what were they called? Those big bombs? Well, there was shooting. But after he came down, he said: 'I didn't shoot at all!' and after that, they would lock him up with us. And we were being held since May 8th and they would let us leave the cellar on May 10th. And we were interned in this school in Bendova Street in the district t of Smíchov.”

  • “I was in this Jewish store, I had to answer phone calls, it was in No. 282 Ve Smečkách Street. Their name was Selkus, the Selkus family. They had a furniture factory. Such a fine furniture. A polished furniture, all black. I had to to do the dusting and to answer the phone. They paid me more than fifty Crowns. And after that, Mrs Selkus said: 'You, German!'Now you will go to Štěpánská Street!' She gave me fifty thousand Crowns. In a briefcase. I could just run away with the money! 'And you will hand over this at the post office.' It went to London. As Mr Selkus had been already in London. He settled in London and she sent him the rest of the money. An me, a German, I would take it to the post office. And at the same time, at the Wenceslas Square (Václavské náměstí), there was a revolution, people would curse and fight each other. And I just went, I might be fourteen or fifteen years old, I just took the money to the post office in Jindřišská street. And there I would just hand o the money over. What a story!”

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    Praha, 07.12.2019

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    duration: 02:26:19
    media recorded in project The Removed Memory
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As Prague Germans, we all spoke Czech as well

Emanuela Köhler in 1942
Emanuela Köhler in 1942
photo: pamětník

Emanuela Köhler, née Janulová, was born on September 12th 1924 in Prague (Praha) to a German mother and a Czech father who grew up in Austria. She went to Czech schools during her primary education. After that, from early 1938 to early 1939, she had been working at Selkus company and at the beginning of 1939, she helped its owners transfer vast sum of money to London where they emigrated to. She had been working for Reichsarbeitsdienst in an ammunition factory in Opava. In the last months of the war, she had been distributing food stamps in Prague’s (Praha) New City Hall, where she had also been held as a German after the Prague uprising and after that sent to a detention centre in a school in Prague’s district of Smíchov. For half a year, she did forced labour at a farm in the Jičín region, and at that time, she also visited her mother who had been imprisoned in Theresienstadt (Terezín) camp. She had been expelled by train via camp in Liberec in 1946, ending up in the Germany’s Soviet occupation zone, but at night she managed to cross the “Green Border” to the West. In 1948, she started a family in Pullach near Munich, marrying Anton Köhler, a German whose family came from Bečov nad Teplou.