Eva Kleinová, roz. Dekojová

“Blackout measures were ordered. There was no lighting in the streets. Windows were covered with black papers so that not even a tiny ray of light would pass through, in order that they would not be able to locate us from above. People walked on the streets with a small torchlight and you only used the little light passing in between your fingers as you held the torchlight so that you would not stumble. My mom learnt how to ride a bicycle when she was thirty-five. After they had arrested daddy. She learnt how to ride a bike, and her relatives obtained one for her, it was an old and repaired bike, so that she would be able to use it. And she was going on the bicycle to all those millers and farmers who had promised that they would get something for her. She would ride when it was dark, she was not able to use a light, and so she was riding the bike when the moon was shining or when the night was clear. There were no cars in Velvary, only the doctor, the veterinarian and one taxi driver had cars, and they had the permission. Moreover, those were not petrol-fueled cars, but they used wood gas instead. There was no petrol, only for the wehrmacht. As my mom was riding that bike, when a car passed by she was afraid that it might be the Gestapo or Germans who would immediately ask her what she was doing there. Many times, when a mere glimpse of an approaching car was seen, she would try to shove the bicycle, including the load that she carried, into a ditch or into some bush and she would keep walking. When the car passed, she would come back for the bicycle.”

“In important positions, such as in offices or banks, there was always a representative of the German Reich. Some of them were tolerant, some of them were very strict. But I don’t remember that there would be any remarkable conflicts. As for the national guests, the women and children who had been evicted from Germany and accommodated in the school building, they had some privileges, such as higher rations of food, and some of their children were very aggressive and they were shouting insults at us. Some older boys and sometimes even us who were of the same age were shouting back at them. But there were no extraordinary clashes, we were afraid of that. At home I would always hear: go out of their way, do not provoke them, we need to endure it. There was no Czech-German friendship among the children, their children had their classes in the school building, and we were going once a week to the local pub to pick up our assignments. If Czechs met in the street, everyone was looking around to see who was near and they were careful with whom and about what they were able to talk. Sometimes people would avoid us, me and my mom, and they would cross to the other side of the street as if they did not know us, although they were people who had communicated with us before. They were afraid for their families. But there were also other people who helped us and who talked to us.”