“There was an airplane flying – a crop duster – and the 25 students dropped down on the ground in the main square in front of the spa [in Luhačovice], put their hands on the back of their heads, and screamed: ‘No Russians, no bombs! No Russians, no bombs!’ The police arrived immediately and arrested us. They released the foreign students a little later, happy with an explanation to the effect that they were confused. But they held me at the station overnight. Afterwards, I had to explain to the officials at the national Studentservis centre that I did not get to explain everything to my foreign friends in good time. All told, it was a big joke, more than anything.”
“I met him just once more, not long before his death. People had lined up to have their audio tapes autographed [after Kryl’s concert in Valašské Klobouky likely in December 1993]. I stood at the end of the line, and he raised his eyes and nodded to me like we had seen each other the day before. It was nice. We had a beer and shared some memories after that, and he recalled he wrote his first poems about nature [as a member of a tourist club back in the day]. [Kryl] said: ‘It could be interesting to find them.’ Sadly, he died three months later, and I have no idea what happened with the poems.”
“The entire group got caught, put in cars, and taken to Bílá where the gestapo had its headquarters at the time. Their prospects were bleak. Dad recalled he felt like in a strange dream when arrested. He said: ‘They drove us through wind and bad weather – and the door opened suddenly as we went.’ He thought: ‘If I jump out, maybe I can save myself,’ but he saw a gestapo officer watching him closely and aiming a gun. He shut the door and thought, that’s it. They came to Bílá and, by coincidence, the car he was in was the last of the three. He was pondering his brief life, and as the others were getting off, he found himself lagging behind, immersed in thought… Without knowing why, he walked round the car and jumped into a stream. He ran through the stream for two or three kilometres to keep the dogs off, and then hid underneath a bank. He saw signal flares and heard dogs barking, but luckily, they didn’t find him. He walked on to the mountains. He encountered lumberjacks who knew him, and they carried him to a manger to avoid leaving footprints. Later on, he and his brother who had fled from [total deployment in] Germany built a shelter, and thus survived the gestapo massacre.”
Miroslav Janík was born in Nový Jičín on 22 April 1948. His father Josef Janík died in 1962. The witness completed a high school of mechanical engineering in Vsetín and went on to study at the Faculty of Technology in Gottwaldov (Zlín) in 1967; he did not graduate. He left for the Faculty of Education in Ostrava in 1971. Between 1973 and 1991, he worked as a teacher at a secondary vocational farming school, at the children and youth’s leisure centre in Valašské Klobouky, and at Special Primary School in Vlachova Lhota. From 1975 to 1980, he was one of the leaders of the TIS – Union for Nature and Landscape Conservation group in Valašské Klobouky. He continued working as part of the successor organisation, the Czech Union for Nature Conservation (“ČSOP”), and initiated the mowing of White Carpathian grasslands. He and friends prevented the project of a mountain hotel in the Ploščiny nature reserve from fruition. In November 1989, he took part in the constituent assembly of ČSOP including the first democratic election of the presidium. Miroslav Janík was one of the initiators of the national Environmental Olympiad for high school students, the event known as Valašský mikulášský jarmek, and the establishment of the Ščúrnica forest managed without interventions. He has received a Minister of the Environment Award, a Josef Vavroušek Award, a Jan Šmarda Award, and the Valašské Klobouky Municipal Award. He lived in Valašské Klobouky in 2022.
Robert Malina (1893–1985), the witness’s grand-uncle who completed the entire Czechoslovak Legions' trek through Russia. The photograph was taken in the latter 1940s
Robert Malina (1893–1985), the witness’s grand-uncle who completed the entire Czechoslovak Legions' trek through Russia. The photograph was taken in the latter 1940s
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