Vladimír Šotola

“He came once more and he said he had no good news for us. That the War spread as far as Japan. Then we got different clothes, well, and an ordinary training started. And then we got there, beyond Kiev. We went one hundred and fifty kilometers by train. The train stopped there. And we had nothing, nobody had anything. And we had an evening line up on the platform in the evening. They counted us, as usual and that was it. And then he came and said we could be glad for the order that the Americans dropped the atomic bomb. We didn't know that. The advance towards Japan was stopped. We went back home.”

“When the Germans were withdrawing, when they were retreating in February 1944, they went from the opposite side... Malovaná, those Czech villages, Malín, Dorostaje and all those. The Russians had already been there ages ago and the famous river Styr set them back. They came and it was just about nine kilometers from Ústěšín, where the water flew through. There were cannons placed behind our barn. And it was also very funny. They moved the families out, they all had to leave. Yeah, everyone. Toník Toman, Láďa Dragoun, myself and, God, who was the fourth one? Oh, Rosťa Kopeckej. We got some kind of 'ajsvajsik' (from the German 'Ausweis' – document, editor's note) that we could move. We were meant for cattle feeding.”

“Well, we were off our luck because there was some Lávrov about five kilometers from our village. And they used to call it Warsaw. It was a very large Ukrainian village. And there was some kind of a farm. The noblemen who lived there ages ago. It was right. My parents bought it from the Poznaňskýs' when they were buying Ozerany. Yeah, the field, well, so that they could build it up there, the village. And the place was called Lávrov. And the Germans who controlled the area moved in that manor, of course, we used to say in the manor. And it was close to our place, just about five kilometers. They used to pass through every Saturday and Sunday because they were going to the village. Otherwise they didn't dare enter some other villages, the Ukrainian ones.”

“Well, Kosťa used to attend our school in Ozerany. When we got to know it I mean we boys, we went to see him. Well, my cousin Honza Šotola, he doesn't live either any more poor little fellow, Láďa Toman and myself went to the Kopeckýs'. All of a sudden two horse-drawn carriages came to the courtyard. Some guys jumped out – the Ukrainian Nationalists. They shot into the barn, well, and they started ... Then they took some hemp, some tow and wanted us to make some strings. Well, and I said: “I won't.” 'Cause I knew what they were up to. They made them themselves and they separated us. They lashed us to the panelling in the barn. We all had to strip off. They bound them together. Everybody was there. They were twenty-four in total in the three families. Then they led us out to the garden. They had such a lovely garden at Kopeckýs'. They lashed us then. They were killing them in front of our eyes.”