Alena Staňková

“In Svatobořice we used to stay in a separate building which we called kinderheim. On paper, no one was supposed to visit us there. In reality, a German man named Schuster was the commander of the camp back then and he eventually agreed for us children to study. It was basic curriculum – Czech language, math… Older girls even learned French. It became clear once again how bad it was at Jenerálka where children couldn’t study at all. Especially those who were just about to start school had to start all over again. And in some mysterious way I learned to read there. So when I returned to Kaznějov after the war to grandma Vyhnis’ family, my grandpa was already home, reading the paper. I said: ‘Grandpa, I will read it with you.’ And he replied: ‘But you don’t know how to.’ And I said: ‘I do!’ So in September that year I went to the first grade and already knew to read.”

“For us little ones, it was like… First they stole us from our families, taking away our parents and bringing us into a group of complete strangers. For a child, this was a shock. But eventually, we would get used to it and make friends in this new environment with those who showed us affection. So Naďa and probably also some other girls simply became a new, substitute family for me.”

A 12. května nás přivezli do Prahy. No, nikdo nám neřek, teda specielně těm dospělejm neřek, že nemají rodiče. Všichni si mysleli, že se s rodiči a s rodinou zase setkají, takže to bylo dost překvápko.

Já si toho moc nepamatuju, jo. Já si pamatuju takový záběry. Jdeme ve štrůdlu, ono to bylo pod kopec, tam je ten šáreckej potok dole a my jsme kolem toho potoka, jsme chodili, a nebo do kopečka potom na tu procházku ve štrůdlu. Tak to je jeden záběr. A druhej záběr je, jak jsem na posteli a mám jenom nějakou košilku na sobě a hlavu ostříhanou dohola, plnou boláků. Protože tam někdo přines vši no a já jsem si rozškrábala hlavu tolik, že prostě mě museli ostříhat dohola a prostě zbavit mě těch vší a těch strupů.

“There was a problem with cars back then. They used to run on wood gas and my aunts simply didn’t arrive on time. They couldn’t make it to the railway station. But I remember that Naďa had an aunt somewhere at or around Karlovo square. And she brought me along to her place. They then came over to her aunt to bring me back to Kaznějov. I remember it as if it were today. A dark hallway and me holding tight to the doorframe, crying: ‘I want to go to Naděnka, I want to stay with Naděnka.’ I simply didn’t want to go. When they brought me to Kaznějov and showed me pictures of my parents, I couldn’t even recognize them. What I did recognize was a doggy that we used to have – fox terrier Doda. So I said: ‘This is Doda.’ I remembered him but not my parents.”