PhDr. Milena Slavická

"I was spending my holidays in Raspenava where there were my parents as well, by chance, and we stayed in a Catholic vicarage. It was early in the morning, six or seven o'clock. I ran out and went to have a walk in the fields and meadows. I saw two Czech soldiers sitting by the road, crying. They were border guards who left their posting because the tanks were already pouring through. I learned about it from them. However, I wasn't fully aware what it meant. I ran back and turned on the radio where they reported on the events. Then the transmission went silent - meanwhile, they probably occupied the Radio building in Prague - and I decided straight away that I was going to Prague."

"In the morning, I phoned my colleagues and we ran towards the Faculty of Philosophy and to Old Town Square where we encircled the tanks. The tanks gave a really peculiar impression because they were marked with white crosses or white stripes. The soldiers were sitting on top of the tanks in silence. They were completely mute, not answering at all. We talked to them in Russian - as well as we could - asking what were they doing here and why they came. This is where we began applying our command of Russian. Then we went into a strike. We were in the top floor of the Faculty of Philosophy, and were directly targeted by a tank standing at the bridge. We slept up there in sleeping bags and could see the barrel through the window. Most likely, they wanted to scare us off, and so sometimes, the barrel was moving up and down. We hadn't gone out much. The bridge was full of armed soldiers. I passed through only once and it was a horrible sensation. We attended all the meetings. It all took place in the so-called blue auditorium. Guests were coming over. There was a student committee, which invited young workers over. We welcomed them and gave them an applause. I simply lived through those days in this way as part of the student movement."

"Mum took me along because I was given a task to hand uncle a chalice. They were serving masses in the prison. It was a small golden goblet, just a children's toy. We used to have toys and home and were allowed to play with them during the mass. I was supposed to slip it under. I only recall a large open-air courtyard with long tables. The inmates were standing there, not allowed to sit the whole time. Each of them was guarded by a warden. Me and my mum sat across the table. As I recall it, my uncle looked like a completely sceletal young man. He seemed very sad. That image was really terrifying. My mum was very careful about what she was saying. The conversation took quite a while, at least in my memory. It may have been half an hour but perhaps a lot less. At the end, we were allowed to come to uncle and give him a kiss. On that occassion, I was supposed to hand him the chalice. And so I did - it was expected that a child would not be watched so closely."

"I was up on my feet immediately. I attended all the key-ringing at Wenceslas Square. But indeed, I had the experience from 1968. And so I always had someone to watch after my children. I thought it was possible that I wouldn't return. I told a neighbour or someone to look after my kids so that they wouldn't be left alone in the apartment. I wasn't scared. I used to feel deep fear during the interrogations that I underwent in the past. Here, I hadn't felt feared. My only fear was that the children would be left alone in the house."