"One of my classmates lost his arm because he found an egg-shaped grenade. I don't know what he did with it, but it blew his hand off. Another friend who lived across the bridge went to herd cows; it was in September after the war. The cows were grazing, they had a little dog that was watching them, so my friend went to the woods to look for mushrooms. Unfortunately, he found a panzerfaust and didn't know how to use it. The poor fellow positioned it the other way round. The head was supposed to point backwards when you fired it. He put it in the front, it tore his leg off and killed him. He was still alive, they took him to the hospital. The dog started barking so badly that a lady who was in the woods nearby found him, quickly borrowed a bike and went to make a phone call to get an ambulance."
"Then people would come and clean up. So many dead chickens, soldiers... My mother worked in the forest and after the war they went to the forest to clean up, looking for dead soldiers. You'd go to the blueberry patch and suddenly you'd smell the smell and you'd find a soldier still lying there unburied. They went around in swarms and searched the woods. For one thing, there was a lot of ammunition, and they had to report the dead or bury them and mark them so they knew where they were buried. That was a terrible job. We had a soldier buried in the garden. Then they dug them up again and probably took them to the designated cemeteries."
"Then [a Soviet soldier] told us we had to leave the cellar, as there would be an offensive from all sides. They let us out of the cellar. The Russians were already in charge. Dad and grandma were close to the exit, so he told them to leave first, and two others went in the next ten to twenty minutes. We couldn't go at the same time. I went with my mother and little sister. We came out through this hole, the house was almost demolished. There were shot cows lying around, and a little further down the road a neighbour was lying on the ground carrying her belongings in a tarp. We saw her lying in the ditch on this 'bag' of gear she had for her daughter because she had a young daughter who was about to get married. There was this neighbor lying there, shot, with a horse lying next to her. Now and then a bullet whistled, but we went into the village. We knocked on doors; this house was full, and next door they were mourning their father shot by Kostřica and Konečný on the hill, so we went on. Mum's sister lived in the village. Her house was burned down, so they took us to the cellar across the street where my mother's sister's family was, and that's where we lived to see the end."
"The way people acted was, everyone shied away. When several people met, they didn't want the children to listen to them because the Germans spied on the children the most. Children were eager listeners. When plucking feathers or walking from the church, people would talk and children would listen to everything because children are very inquisitive. So the Germans asked the children a lot of questions. Then they could come somewhere with certainty and say, 'That's the way it was'. People were very sad about it. They were just waiting all the time, they weren't happy that the front was going to go their way, but they wanted to get it over with."
Antonie Tichopádová, née Šihorová, was born in Přerovec, a part of Suché Lazce in the Opava area, on 17 December 1934. Her mother was a forest worker and her father was a miner, which allowed the family a better supply of food. In 1938, at a fair in Hrabyně, she saw a convoy of the German army passing by and the arrest of teacher Šenk by the Gestapo in her first class. The Germans had set up a field kitchen and military hub at a grove not far from their house, where she and her children would go, which was dangerous because the Germans would ask them to find out what their parents were talking about at home. In her story, she recalled the gamekeeper Otto Axmann, a member of the Nazi party, who shot two escaped soldiers hiding in the local woods. She and her family hid in uncle Tkačík‘s cellar when the war front was crossing, but soon had to leave. At night, they zigzagged between bullets and animal carcasses. She saw her neighbour lying on the ground, killed. After the war, she helped clear away dead animals, soldiers and ammunition. Playing with ammunition proved fatal to her classmate, who shot off his leg and died. After the war, she left a textiles factory, completed her education and worked as a nurse in the children‘s ward and in a nursing home. At the time of filming in 2024, she was living in Přerovec.
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!