"He was then deployed to the landing party in Crete. But the parachutes for the paratroopers were made in occupied Belgium, and because the Germans were very nasty there too, they got their revenge and made a mess of things. He said that on average one in four parachutes didn't open. He was lucky, he survived and was transported from there to North Africa. Here he was wounded and became an American prisoner. He said he never had it so good in his life as he did in that American captivity. They were locked up in a camp, but when they wanted to pour their pitch and they didn't have lime, they poured sugar on it. We never dreamed of that. He could eat fifteen eggs for a meal afterwards. They treated the prisoners so beautifully until they really became convinced that there were concentration camps and that these atrocities really existed."
"Another was a butcher who materially supported the resistance. He was a proper butcher, a real butcher who was not afraid of anyone, but he also didn't think too far ahead. When the Germans found out that he was supporting the Home Resistance, the Czech police of course found out and warned the butcher to disappear. He didn't listen until the Gestapo actually came for him. He paid for it with his life. When they started beating him, he propped the door open with a chair and beat everyone there himself. Only when he saw that it was over did he pick up their pistol, with which he shot himself."
"Well, at the end of the war my mother came back to Pilsen with me and the house was next to the former school. And the school was housing American soldiers. Even though they smashed up the Skoda factory, the railway station and everything else, we welcomed them very much because they really brought us freedom then. They were helpful and quite friendly. My uncle, who was a pastry chef, lived in Pilsen, and although they had plenty of food and the logistics of the army were well arranged, they were happy to exchange fresh food for canned food. My uncle, although he didn't speak English, was friends with one of the soldiers, and they corresponded until their deaths and even visited each other in later years. My mother didn't speak English either, but the soldiers always waited for her to come out with me because I was a two-year-old blond child then, and children tend to be cute. They were always waiting for me and bringing me chocolate. I remember my mother telling me a story that she was holding my hand and a black man came. I had a feeling he was dirty, so I put my finger on him and touched his face to see if he was really dirty. Mommy couldn't explain anything to him, she just told that to father."
Marie Šafandová, née Dvořáková, was born on 16 March 1943 in Plzeň, where her father, after leaving the border area, served as a police officer and at the same time had connections to the domestic resistance. After the liberation by the American army in May 1945, the family maintained warm relations with the American soldiers. Shortly thereafter, the Czechoslovak authorities summoned the witness‘s father to Mariánské Lázně, where he was to serve as a liaison officer with the U.S. Army. In 1946, Marie Šafandová entered primary school and after graduating from primary school she enrolled at the secondary pedagogical school in Cheb. She married in 1960, but decided to continue her studies afterwards and in the following years successfully graduated from the Faculty of Education in Pilsen and later from the Faculty of Science at the Charles University in Prague. She worked as a biology teacher at primary schools in Lázně Kynžvart and Mariánské Lázně. In the 1970s, she started teaching at a school for foreign students preparing to study at Czech universities. She continued teaching until her retirement in 2006. At the time of filming (2023), the witness lived in Mariánské Lázně and was active as a tour guide.
Hrdinové 20. století odcházejí. Nesmíme zapomenout. Dokumentujeme a vyprávíme jejich příběhy. Záleží vám na odkazu minulých generací, na občanských postojích, demokracii a vzdělávání? Pomozte nám!
