Imrich Danko

“When they transported me to prison on Záhradnícka Street, I faced the very nature of that hate and malice. It was January, it was cold, I had just one blanket and when I slept I could only have my arms stretched out. The most terrifying was that my place was near the room where they used to investigate prisoners. I heard those wails and beating even in the cell where I slept. It was a bit better during the day but terrible at night. Unbearable. I had to listen to those cries, that pain. Later, when they inquired me, I wanted to know what I had been blamed for. Supposedly, I phoned my father and asked him to come for Petrík, they said it was a sign of our collusion. So I told them that it was untruth. Then they hit me into my face, into my right eye and they did it very hard. And I realized what kind of people they were.”

“The worst situation was in Svätopluk camp where I had worked; let’s say as a civilian site manager. I came there for the first time, but I hadn’t done that work before; I absolutely didn’t know what underground mining of uranium meant. I didn’t know how to do it. So, there was one Slovak who had to charge and blast what they mined there. We had to drill holes and he blasted it, so he took us to the end of mine. There were miles of tunnels because old miners worked there a long time ago. He took us there. I was there with a man from Morava who had been in mines for three days and knew nothing, too. We, complete strangers, climbed fifty meters down the ladders to drill there; we had acetylene lamps, so we could smoke there, there was no gas. One of us sneezed and our lamps went out. Then in that pitch dark, just imagine it; I had never climbed fifty meters in the darkness like that. It consisted of excavation, mining, perhaps cutting from the excavation, and middle mining leading from that cutting and then there were flues. And we were on that flue. We didn’t know what to do. So we went down and then along those flues. My arms were all bloody. It was the first time I was in the mine.”

“Well, in other prisons in Opava, it was quite good there. In this prison there was a yard and we could go there. We could play volleyball and guards didn’t mind it because these things were technical ones. Let’s say there were about two hundred prisoners and most of them had a university degree. There were many departments such as building, engineering, shipping, nuclear department and many others, and those guards didn’t understand it at all. Even if he came to the board or drawing, he didn’t have a clue. Our activities were always appointed. For example, we were assigned to work on a construction in Karviná, on all the blocks of flats and building plans. The guard said nothing. They all were quite intelligent and sympathetic with us. I felt good there. Except the situation when they caught us as we were making some coffee without permission, but they did nothing to us.”

“Pavol Valent was a technical manager of radio transmitters in Prievoz and Veľké Kostoľany. Until 1948, the transmitters were controlled by the post office, but then they were taken over by the Ministry of the Interior. So then Valent was registered as a State Security member. It was Valent who guided my brother across the border. My brother asked him to do that because Valent was a member of the State Security and had influence in Petržalka. They went to Čierny les and there was the state border between Austria and Slovakia, Czechoslovakia, actually. And from that place he guided my brother across the border. Though, somebody had to have told, otherwise I don’t know how the State Security found out. They simply detained and executed him.”