Jiří Henych

* 1941

  • “I left for a three-day trip to Vienna, that was a bus with about forty people and we all had just one joint passport. The passport was valid for forty tourists. So I didn’t have any document at all. And I was the only young man, the rest were around forty to fifty years old, I was the only young person. So I was regarded as a potential runaway. So when we came to Vienna, I was informed by one person from the bus that this man, and he was pointed out to me, was someone I should watch out for. That he might be a secret [agent], that I should be careful. We came to Vienna, you can’t take pretty much anything with you on a three-day trip, just two bags, you can’t take two suitcases for three days. And I made use of the first opportunity and, quite simply, legged it.”

  • “With great difficulty, that’s a well-known fact about the Swiss - that they’re of themselves very reserved people. With great difficulty, when I compare with the current situation, how my Swiss wife is being accepted here and how they approached me back then in Switzerland, it’s completely different. But I have to say that I was helped by the fact that I had married a Swiss. But even her family, that was very, very difficult to start with, because in their eyes I was some sort of troglodyte from the Carpathians.”

  • “I worked a few months in Skloexport [a glass distribution company - transl.]. Skloexport was in Liberec at the time, because of the glass that was produced in North Bohemia. I worked there and I signed up for a number of different trips, but I was always refused. So I started playing with the idea of moving to Yugoslavia, because I heard that it was possible to get from there to Italy. But it seemed a bit dangerous to me, I was afraid. If things went wrong, I’d end up in jail. So I searched for a safer route to legally cross over into the West. And the only chance I had was working in the factory, they’d never let me out on an official trip at Skloexport. I tried to get on a boat that sailed around Scandinavia all the way to what used to be Leningrad, but I had no chance at all. Then they approved me for this three-day trip, which was a miracle.”

  • “I didn’t see the regime in any way, we were little children, we marched along as pioneers [the Communist replacement for the Boy Scouts - transl.] on May Day and thought we were bringing happiness to humanity, because they mixed our heads up, quite simply we were manipulated. I remember how in national school one teacher, Mrs Čejková, I still remember her name, we were in the second or third year, and she told us, I’ll never forget that: ‘Children, if you hear something bad about our comrade president at home, tell me about it.’ She was forcing us to denounce our parents. Well, not forcing, but simply suggesting it. On the other hand it was a peaceful childhood because we didn’t understand what was going on. Realisation only started to set in when we were adults, when we saw the people who had the opportunity to go to the West and who came back and told us about it, they opened our eyes to a completely different world. That’s why I wanted to leave, because I didn’t want to stay here, I didn’t want to marry and have children in this country.”

  • “I don’t know if it was a former concentration camp, but it was the sort of building like they had in concentration camps, it was probably a remnant from the war. That was the American zone, and it housed fugitives from the East, not only from the Czech Republic, but from the whole eastern Socialist camp. And they wanted to check what sort of persons we were, which I can understand. They didn’t lock us in, you could go out; you had to tidy up, a bit like at military service. And you waited there until the commission acknowledged whether your reasons were sufficient to justify them granting you political asylum, or not.”

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    Nová Bystřice, 22.11.2013

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Then they approved me for a three-day trip, it was miracle

Jiří Henych
Jiří Henych
zdroj: Pamět národa - Archiv

Jiří Henych was born on 24 July 1941 in Čáslav. He lived in Liberec after the war, as his mother, a paediatrician, moved there in 1945 on request of the ministry of health to provide healthcare in the border region. Jiří Henych attended grammar school and after his graduation he went on to study medicine. But after two years of studies he purposefully stopped his studies. At the time he was already hoping to leave communist Czechoslovakia and was beginning to plan his escape over the borders. After completing military service he began signing up for various trips to „capitalist“ destinations, but these were never approved. To improve his chances and despite his education, he decided to find employment as a manual labourer, as this would better enable him to reach the much-desired West. He began working as an unskilled labourer at LIAZ, and it was here in 1966 that he was finally allowed to join a trip to Vienna. It was a three-day trip using a joint passport for 40 travellers. They crossed the Czechoslovak borders at Hatě, near Znojmo. Upon arriving in Vienna, Henych abandoned the group at the first possible moment. He contacted his old, chance acquaintances from Liberec, who were then living in Stuttgart. These expelled Sudeten Germans had formerly pledged to help him. They kept to their promise and came by car to Vienna, where they picked him up and took him to West Germany. Seeing as Jiří did not have a passport, he did not cross the German-Austrian border with them in the car, but he instead got out shortly before the toll gate and crossed over the green border, which was left unguarded, unlike the Czechoslovak one. In West Germany he turned himself in to the local authorities and spent six weeks in the refugee camp in Zirndorf near Nuremberg. He then departed to Sweden, where he also had an acquaintance, who subsequently employed him. During a trip to Switzerland he met his future wife and decided to stay in the country. He started a family there and worked as a physiotherapist. He visited Czechoslovakia for the first time after his emigration in November 1989. He found himself returning to his homeland more and more often, until finally he and his Swiss wife decided to settle down in the Czech Republic permanently. They made their home in Nové Bystřice in South Bohemia, where they built themselves a house just a few hundred metres from the Austrian state border - the same border across which he first entered the free world some forty years before.