10. BACK AT HOME, BACK IN BUSINESS, SABOTAGING THE GERMANS AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE!

 My Dad’s narrative continued:

“Before returning home, a major problem happened. I finally reached the house around 10:00pm, and knocked on the door several times before someone would answer my call. In those days everyone was extremely fearful, and someone at the door at that time of the night could represent several different problems. My wife and the children were still illegally in the country, so they were afraid that it was the police coming to take them. But, after insisting for a while, the door opened just a little bit, in almost total darkness, and was quickly slammed back and closed. I noticed that it was my wife who opened it, but, why didn’t she let me in? So I started saying, “Marie, Marie, open the door, it is Saša!” I had to repeat it several times before that door opened again and I was allowed to get in. What could have possibly caused that?

Well, imagine a woman and three children at home at night, and then a stranger knocking on the door. A male, looking homeless, with a beard, and appearing to be just a walking skeleton! How many women  would open the door that fast? And yes, that was exactly the description of myself at that moment. But I knew I was home, they were all still there, so I just needed to make them know it was actually me coming back home after SEVEN  months.

My conditions were really bad during those seven months, but my wife told me what happened to her and the children during those days.  When the Germans were approaching as they were invading Belgium in 1941, the population received an order from the City that they had to leave and go towards the South, in the direction of France.  There were 3 million people marching on the roads, fleeing from the German invasion.  The conditions were precarious, with no food or place where to spend the night.  Marie had a hard time because Ivan was still small, and Gustav had been sick for a while and so she had to take them both on a stroller while Alex could walk with her.  Soon the rubber from the stroller's wheels fell off, making it much more difficult to push it. The conditions were really bad, as there were dead people everywhere, even on some trees.  They found abandoned homes on those small farms where they were walking, and once in a while they could get a hen and some eggs.

On one occasion, the group that Marie was with spent the night in a barn on an abandoned farm. She woke up very early that morning, before 5:00, as did one other lady. So they decided to start walking even before the group woke up. They were on the road for a while when they noticed German airplanes approaching, and they bombarded that barn while those people were still sleeping. Everyone in the barn died…

Those people walked about 150 kilometers. Marie developed a black mark on her belly because after a few hours on the road every day, her arms would become tired and sore, so she started pushing the stroller with her belly. But soon the Germans reached that crowd and sent them back to Belgium on trucks.  When Marie and the kids came back home they realised that everything in the house had been stolen and she could not even cook a meal for the children.  After a few days, during the night, someone left two chairs at the front door, which they had stolen from the home while it was empty.  Those chairs, along with 2 beds were the only furniture they had. I realized that my wife's situation was actually worse than mine at the camp.  I got very little food, but at least I got one portion every day.  Her situation, with three children, had been desperately worse.

I didn't know what to do next.  I was back home, had my family together, but everything was confusing.  I still had some money, but it would be enough for no longer than a couple of months. I spoke German, so I started helping the Mayor’s assistant, Mr. Marren, translating for him as he needed to communicate with the Germans that were around.  There was still a shortage of food, and people got food stamps.  Because of my contacts I got some extra stamps, especially because I was helping in two separate districts (cities), Cambron Senvensan and Cambron Casteau.  We lived in that area for about 4 months.

In the beginning of 1943, I started a small timber business that I ran until 1945 - before returning to my country after the war.  One day a man came and told me that the Germans had destroyed part of the woods on his property, and asked me to go with him to the German office to apply for reimbursement for those trees.  He couldn’t speak German, and needed my help.  We went there and I explained the case to them, but they were not willing to pay for the damage because there was no clear identification of who had done that.  So I invited the commander to come to my home the next day for dinner, aiming to negotiate the issue with him.  My wife at first refused to cook for Germans, but after great insistence on my part, she finally agreed to it and prepared a nice meal. 

The commander came along with two other officers, and before the dinner they told us how glad and thankful they were for a homemade dinner, since for about three months the only food they were having was cabbage.  Cabbage every day, and only cabbage.  That was bad news and I I felt that we would be in trouble... because the main dish my wife had prepared was based on ... cabbage!  So when they started eating they got only a small portion of it, but then they realized that the food tasted very good, so they changed their mind and ate much more. That recipe was very good.  Then, after dinner, we discussed the business and they told me to come in the morning to the station to introduce me to their boss. 

The following day I went to their office and one of them introduced me to the higher commander, telling him what division (he made it up) was responsible for destroying the property and that we were requesting a reimbursement.  The commander then signed an authorization and everything was resolved.  The owner of the property received his money within a couple of weeks.  He actually rewarded me, but way too modestly for all that work, giving me a bag of about 3 kg of potatoes - which of course didn’t even pay for the dinner we prepared for those Germans…

Now I will tell more about our life during the German occupation.  As I already said, I had started a timber business at that time.  My sawmill was in Florennes (we were living in Vodecée at that time, about 6 km from Florennes).  Everything was regulated by the Germans at that time.  Nothing could be sold without the authorization of the German officials, including food.  There was a central office and they told everyone who had a business what could or could not be done.  In my case they regulated even the most minimal details, saying how much wood could be stored and what to do with it.  They determined to whom it should be sold and put the price on it, too.  But the amount of wood extracted from the forest was huge.  At a certain time I had up to 100 employees working for me.  I didn’t keep any accountant records - during the war we didn’t even think about this legal aspect.  The Germans would tell us where to deliver the timber, I got paid, and that was the end of each transaction. 

The German Army ordered a huge amount of tree cuts that had to match certain specifications, wood that they would transport to the beaches and then would put them vertically  in the ocean pushing them into the sand at a certain distance of the shore. The idea was to prevent the allies from disembarking on those beaches. A totally dumb idea, but they paid lot for that wood, so I just supplieD it to them. The Germans would leave their trucks at night on our property so that they could be loaded early in the morning, then the drivers would come to pick them up. After a while I was called to the German office and told by a Commander that ïnterestingly enough”their trucks started presenting problems after they ran a few kilometers from our place. It seems that someone was tampering with thos trucks… I told them that it was certainly a coincidence, but that I would talk to my employees so that they would increase the security at night… Of course I knew that my employees were sabotaging the trucks as much as they could, so I asked them to just do less of that, not "treating” every single German truck, but only some of them…

Because the cuts had to match certain specifications (diameter and length), only a certain number of them could be loaded on those trucks. I was paid by the unit delivered. Everything was going well until I noticed that the number of pieces loaded was increasing gradually. I knew something was wrong, so I went to check it when the trucks were being loaded; only to learn that my employees were throwing in pieces that didn't meet the diameter specifications, thus significantly increasing the total load. I knew that it could take me in front of a fire squad when the Germans would find out about it. So I decided to address the issue with the German Commander, seeking for a solution, a way to fix the situation. I invited him to our home one day, and opened  a bottle of a very good wine… We had a great conversation…, and about the issue, he said, “Ohh, don't worry, those people by the beach couldn't care less about it at all, they don’t even know that there are specifications to be matched. Just don’t push too hard on it and you will be fine”... I gave him a few bottles of wine to take home, and never heard of anything about this issue. Of course, I told the employees to be more careful, but they couldn't care less either. Being Belgians, they were more than happy sabotaging the Germans as much as they could. It was a good business and I made lots of money at that time.

I remember when one day, as the war was coming to an end, a couple of German soldiers came to our home again for some questioning and one of them noticed our children speaking in Czech.  He was for Poland and had been taken as a “volunteer” into the German army.  We used to hear radio programs broadcasted in French from England because they were always telling where the allied forces were and how they were advancing.  When those soldiers were at our home the radio started giving some of those news and I rushed to turn it off - because it was forbidden to hear those stations.  But the officer told me to keep it on because they too wanted to hear about it.  The radio told where the Americans were already in France, and the soldiers started laughing saying that there were no Americans in France, that it was all a lie.  I told them that if the news came from England it was probably true.  They thought for a minute and concluded that most probably they were not told the truth about it all. They had come to our home and brought lots of food with them; for some reason they didn’t want to eat it at their camp.

While they were eating, a soldier came looking for them, so after knocking on the door I answered and when he saw all that food on the table he started cursing them saying that the soldiers have had no food for two days and they had all that  food available for them?  So they told him to shut up, not telling anybody, and invited him to the table to have the meal with us.  To which he answered, “No, I am an honest soldier and if my colleagues have no food I will starve with them instead of eating with you” .  When they left they went to our neighbors home too where they had coffee with them and after that they took off to their camp.  After about half an hour the neighbor, Ms.  Esghem came in tears telling us that an English plane had attacked those officers’ vehicles and all were dead.  She didn’t like the Germans but she was certainly sad for those young kids who died.  Yes, the allies were coming closer now.

The Germans were hated by the Belgian population because of their conduct and general behavior.  But everyone had to work for them anyway in order to survive and eat.  The Germans were building an airport close to our home, and there were eight thousand Belgians working on that project.  They of course sabotaged whatever they could and worked as slow as they could.”

Note from George here: The trees in that part of the woods that was cut by my Dad regrew but because the new trees are younger, the green color is lighter than the rest of the area; it can actually be spotted from a higher altitude. Nowadays the locals in Chaumont call it, un-officially, “La Clairière Tichý” (The Tichy Glade, or The Tichy  Clearing, or The Tichy Cut).

(All rights reserved according to the Law)

09. JUMPING OFF A TRAN IN ORDER TO GO HOME

 My Dad’s narrative continued:

"After a few weeks we were told that we could go home, but under the escort of the Germans, and we had to sign a consent for it.  I did not want to sign it because I was afraid to expose myself to German authorities.  So I didn’t leave with the first shipment as many did.  I stayed for at least two more months.  The conditions were really bad and we were hungry every day.  It was during that time that something interesting happened.  

I was told to go to the central office, which I did escorted to by one guard.  There they showed me a packet which came from Marseille. I didn’t know anybody in that city, but yes someone had sent it to me.  However the guard told me that he couldn’t deliver it to me because I already was receiving a daily portion of food. What happened is that every day, before we received our daily portion, one of the guards would come and bring some fruits which he was selling to those of us who still had some money.  Later on we figured out that the camp administration was paying for those goods with government money, and selling it to us!  So we decided never ever to buy anything again, which we started doing the very next day.  When the guard in charge figured out that we were very adamant about it, and that we knew about the whole operation, he just dropped everything on the ground and never tried to sell it to us again.  

So, back to the parcel I got in the mail, the officer didn’t want to give it to me.  I told him that in such a case I insisted that he destroyed the whole thing in front of me immediately, which he didn’t want to do because he probably wanted to keep it for himself and take it home.  Thus, after a while he finally agreed and gave me the packet.  I was so weak at that time that I couldn’t carry the packet; so another officer helped me and carried it for me back to my place. The packet had close to 20 kg of good food, which helped me much to recover from the typhus I had had.  

There were some Catholic priests with us kept as prisoners.  May be as many as 30 of them in our camp.  One day the main priest in town, the Bishop, invited them to his place, and actually told them to come back the next day and he would give them lots of food and other goods.  It happened, though, that they also had signed up to leave for Germany the next day.  So one of them, who I was friends with, told me to go to that place the next day and get some food.  He actually gave me a priest certificate and told me to present myself as being a priest. When I presented my “certificate” to the guards at the camp, they started to treat me better. I was enjoying that “being a priest” business…  The guards made a truck available to me, so that I could bring more goods to the camp.  When I came back it looked almost like a party at the camp, with the abundant food I had brought. Priesthood was a new experience for me…, but I sure “endured” it very well!...After all, it was very good for my stomach…

The camp was at the beach, but we were not allowed to go into the water.  There was a fence separating us from the sea.  But in a few weeks the fence was removed and we could finally have a bath.  A salted bath.  But after months of having no bath at all, it was great to go every day and jump into that water.  One day there was a great storm and without considering the danger I went to swim in the sea again, when suddenly I realized that I was not able to get out of the water.  It seemed that a current was pulling me out.  People wanted to help me, but couldn’t and I was in great danger at that moment.  After much fighting with the waves, I finally made it back to the shore and got out. 

It was time to go home, but I didn’t want to sign that paper agreeing to the German escort.  It was then when a Jew came to me and told me that he didn’t want to sign it either.  So we made our plan: I would sign his paper and he would sign mine, and this way nobody could ever prove that we actually signed it.  Once we had no personal documents, when they called us by name we just switched and signed each other’s paper.  I became Peter Wolf for a few days... It worked, and soon we were traveling back home across occupied France, in a slow trip changing trains very often.  After a while we came to Vijay, where the German police was waiting for us, but they would refuse to help those who were Russians, Czechs, and Polish.  They would send those back.  Since I spoke German fluently, I just didn’t identify myself as a Czech but rather as a German… They interrogated me asking where in Germany I was from. I told them I was from Berlin, since I knew that town well and could produce details if needed. And sure enough, they asked me where in Berlin I lived, what school I attended, etc. I passed the test with no problem. I was going to be sent back to Berlin. So I was finally included in the group of Germans that would be sent to Paris and then to Germany. Those officers were actually embarrassed and concerned with the fact that a German citizen was kept in a concentration camp that was under German administration…

In Paris we were put in a kind of hotel, and given new shoes and some clothes.  The worst had always been the hunger that we had to suffer for many months.  Even in Paris we still didn’t have enough food.  Soon we discovered that at the train stations there were some eateries that gave food to poor and homeless people.  So we just went from one to another of those places and got some food.  The hotel where we were staying was managed by German soldiers, and one day they called us all and said that they had heard that some of us had been getting meals at those eateries and that it was not allowed, and that we were eating the equivalent to six meals each time.  We explained to him that we actually had a hunger equivalent to six people.  But we had to stop that to avoid complications.  Soon we became friends with the cooks (French people) at our own place and they would give us a little more food each time.  It was still difficult, but we were all on our way back home and we knew that the nightmare had finished.  We stayed in Paris for about one week.  After a long period without any shoes, now I had gotten a pair of shoes, which helped me to walk throughout the city, thus getting acquainted with that town. Yes, I had been walking barefoot for a long time…

After that week in Paris we were put on a train and sent “back home to Berlin.”.  What a happy time that was!  We were going home. But…, my home was not in Berlin, it was in Belgium, so I still had to figure out how to manage that situation - of being a German without being a German, and going back home but not to Berlin….   When we arrived in Luxembourg we were again put in a small shelter for a few days, waiting for what would be the next step.  This was right before Christmas. Then I was put in a train going to Berlin, but a few minutes after departure, and in the middle of the night, I jumped off that train - after all, I was not going to Berlin. I went back to the train station and tried to get in a train to Belgium, but I was detained by the German police. There were other people going to Belgium that were detained as well. But, after talking more closely to one of the officers, some of us promised him that we would come back within a week if he allowed us to go to Belgium for Christmas.  He finally gave in and let us go.  I felt like going home for good.  Of course I never went back.  After a few hours in a train I reached Liége, where we had lived before.  However, my memory was so bad at that time, after so many months in a concentration camp in those horrible conditions, that I couldn’t remember where we were actually living after that. I didn’t know if my wife and the children were still alive, nor did I know if they were still living at the same place!  But after a while I found my way and made it back to where we lived. Nobody can imagine the feeling of hoping to be reunited with the family after those seven horrible months.

But then… before being able to make it through the door at my home, a major problem got in my way. I will explain it in the next segment."

(All rights reserved according to the Law)

08. THE DAILY ROUTINE IN THE CONCENTRATION CAMP

 My Dad’s narrative goes on:

“So now we made it to a new place, but there was another problem: there were no beds! We had to sleep on the floor, and my whole body was sore after a few days.  So I decided to look for something that I could use as a mattress.  There was a man who had a long coat and would be willing to sell it for 30 francs.  I had the money and bought it from him.  But when I looked better at him and had the impression that I had seen him before; coincidentally he had the same impression about me. So we finally found out that we both had been in the same camp in Le Vigan, the first camp I was sent to.  He was one of those four people who the soldiers took every day out of their rooms and made them look at the sun. After a few weeks their eyes were very red and swollen.  Later on the four men were taken around the country and shown to people as if they were German pilots whose planes had been shot down by the French army.  They were taken by train on a “tour” and at each train station they were exposed to the public who always beat them up.  Because of the daily exposure to the direct light of the sun during the camp days, his eye bulbs were greatly enlarged and almost falling off their place.  They had been used by the army to show the citizens that the enemies were being captured, trying to impress the people with what the national army was capable of doing. In other words, for mere propaganda!. 

During those days I also learned some interesting things about the Jewish determination to keep their religious habits and traditions.  There were several of them in our camp, but they started a movement demanding “kosher foods”, otherwise they would refuse to eat. The French authorities denied them that kind of food, so they decided to stop eating completely until they were given what they wanted.  After a few days of fasting, their requests were finally met.  Then, according to their religious beliefs, they had another need: they demanded plates that were never used before.  They had money to buy whatever they needed.  I remember that on a certain occasion I went to the town along with some friends and we found many plates and silverware in a store.  So we bought some and brought them to the camp to re-sell them to the Jews.  We knew they had been used before, but we “certified”  to the Jews that they were brand new, that nobody had eaten on them before... Thus, everyone was a winner. The Jews were happy eating on “brand new”  plates... and we made a few bucks from that business! Sometimes we found some plates in the trash, so we would take them and after cleaning them thoroughly, we would sell them to the Jews again; just helping the poor guys with proper eating tools…

There were no physicians or dentists on that camp, and some people suffered a lot because of that.  I remember one time when a person was having a toothache and the guards would not bring a dentist in to see him.  There was a guy among us who had been a dentist and using a simple old nail he was able to help that person - but what a precarious way to work on a tooth.

There were some nurses that once in a while would bring some medications to those in extreme need, but for an unknown reason they would bring the medication only at 1:00 am - which was very inconvenient because many people would wake up disturbed by their noise.

Those were very difficult days; it's even difficult to describe them because nobody can imagine how bad it was.  Being sick with typhus is a very serious condition, and one cannot eat any solid food.  The only thing allowed is to drink milk, which we did but in a very restricted way because there was not enough milk for everyone every day.  Later on we started receiving a small daily  portion of pumpkin soup, but, for many weeks, that was all we had for the day. People usually survived the illness, and as far as I remember, only one person perished due to that infection. 

We were living in very precarious accommodations; our housing was in old barracks.  A few of us decided to fix our barrack, which we did using some old nails that we found around and a couple of hammers.  When we finished, the French guards moved us to another place.  We were very unhappy with that, but we decided to fix a few more, and actually at the end we had fixed probably a dozen of them.

There were some interesting things that I learned during that time, from other people’s experiences.  Many of us used to get together in the evening and tell our stories or talk about our families, or even other subjects.  When someone got a letter they would usually read it to us, too.  There was a Jew among us who had not seen his wife for 5 years and one day when he received a letter from her he read it to us.  She was encouraging him saying that every day at a certain time of the day she was praying for him, and urged him to do the same at the same time every day, so that through God they could be connected and nobody could separate them from each other and one day they would be back together. 

I was friends with a man who lived close to our home in Belgium and was now working in the kitchen at the camp.  Once in a while they had to go to Perpignan, a town 5 kilometers from the camp, to buy supplies for the kitchen, and very often they took me with them.  On one occasion I got lost in town and they left me behind.  It was already dark and I had to walk back those 5 kilometers.  The problem was that there were no lights and there was a lot of quick sand in the area. It was very dangerous to walk at night.  My only help to walk in the right direction was a lighthouse which was close to the camp.  But I couldn’t see much of the road.  Actually, for a couple of times I stepped into the quicksand but only with one foot since I was walking very carefully and could take it out quickly.  Then when I finally returned to the camp, the guard would not let me in at that time of the night thinking that I didn’t belong there, so I had to wait until morning to get back in.

There were all sorts of people there.  Some were teachers, so they started a few small groups teaching people something they use to teach.  One of them was a Spanish teacher and I attended his group and learned a little bit of Spanish.  But soon the French authorities told us that we could not keep doing that, that it was forbidden to meet that way on a regular basis.  They were probably afraid that we could be making plans to escape from that place.”

(All rights reserved according to the Law)

07. MISERY AND DEATH IN A CONCENTRATION CAMP IN FRANCE

 Memories of Alexandre Tichy Sr.:

“We were kept in Le Vigan for a while. Soon I noticed that every day the soldiers would take four people to an open field. They had to kneel down and keep their eyes focused directly on the Sun. If they looked in  another direction, they were beaten up. After 15 minutes or so the men were taken back to a dark room for the rest of the day. They had to do it every day. I noticed that the man who was yelling at night asking for his dog, as I described prior, was one of those people. Those men were brutally punished for whatever they had done. 

Most people in that group were Jews who had fled Germany because of the persecution they were suffering in their country. But now they were taken as prisoners because they were Germans. After a few weeks in that place we were taken to another location. They put us on a train and shipped us to another part of France. The main railroads were used by the army to transport the troops, and we had to use some secondary railroads. It took us more than 4 days to reach the South of France, at the beach. The accommodations we were put in had been used before by another group. In Spain the communists had fought with General Franco’s troops, and when Franco won, all communists fled to South France. There they were captured by the French authorities and kept in those accommodations. Little by little they had been released and now we were coming to use that place.

I became a different person after my experience in the concentration camp.  I saw disgrace at its worst and how people could be mean and nasty to one another.  I also learned that we need much less than we think in order to survive and to live.  One problem we faced at the prior camp was shortage of food since the daily portions were becoming smaller every day.  We were told by the camp administrators that they didn’t have enough money to buy more food, but if we could pay for it they could get us more food.  Some of us had some money left so we started paying for some extra food.  

But soon the situation became chaotic again.  Besides that, in our sector there were many Jews, and it was not easy to be among them.  They were very selfish, which made it difficult to relate to them.  Every morning we received a small loaf of bread for every eight of us in our tent.  But there was not a single knife available, which made it difficult to slice the bread.  The only option was to grab a piece with our own hands, which of course produced portions of different size and each one of us wanted the biggest.  So we arranged it in a way that we rotated every day in the order or being served, thus at least making the distribution fairer  But there was too little food there.  I am still amazed that we survived with just a small portion of food every day.  Though, yes, we did it!

I didn’t know anybody in France, but one day I received a money order for 500.00 francs.  I still don’t know who sent me that money.  It was someone in France, but there was no way to find out who it was.  I really enjoyed that money because for a while I could buy some extra food every day.  Once in a while I could even buy some grape juice, which was a great help for my stomach.

Another interesting fact is that I had been a Catholic for many years, but after my contacts with Just in Belgium I absorbed some Protestant viewpoints and, because they made sense to me and were historically true and correct, I had changed my mind and was now thinking more as a Protestant than as a Catholic.  But coincidentally, one of my best friends at that time when we were at the concentration camp was a German Catholic!  A very faithful Catholic.  It was an interesting friendship because we had much free time and talked a lot about the differences between the two systems.  I certainly learned from him and he learned from me as well.  He was a good man; actually, he left the camp before I did and before leaving he gave me his passport just in case that I needed it in any circumstance.  After Germany invaded France, the Germans took control of the camp and those who had filled out forms declaring that they were Germans were taken back to Germany first.  I could have done that, but I still had my concerns because I didn’t want the Germans finding who I was.  Considering the facts that happened just before Germany invaded our country that could be too dangerous still.  So I decided to leave only later on. Unfortunately, though, suddenly there was a typhus outbreak in the camp.  Over 300 people got contaminated and sick, many died.  

Since there was no physician available at that time either, the camp administration took those who were sick and transferred us to Perpignan and put us in an old building, a former factory.  The building was not too solid and would not resist heavy rain or flooding.  And sure enough, one day we had a heavy storm and the place was flooded.  The building would certainly collapse, so they took us all outside.  Those who were too sick were taken on their own beds and removed from the building.  We were then sent back to the old camp, which was also flooded. There was water and mud everywhere and we actually had no place where to stay.  It was then that we were told that the management decided that we had to be sent to a different place; but there was no transportation and we had to walk to that place, where we finally arrived after a few hours walking under really bad weather conditions.

Due to how they treated others, I had not liked the Jews in the past; but I must confess that my heart was broken seeing the suffering they went through in those days.  It was sad to hear their stories of how they suffered in Germany during the Hitler’s days. 

When we got to the new camp we had to stop and wait at a certain point while some trucks transporting people passed.  At a certain moment the trucks had to stop for some reason.  There was a young man among us who suddenly left our group and rushed toward one of those trucks, trying to reach one woman who was on the truck.  The soldiers in charge of course beat him until he returned to our group.  The lady he had seen happened to be his mother, whom he had not seen for six years.  Soon the trucks kept running, and the poor guy could not even talk to his mother.

When we finally arrived to our final destination in that new camp, we talked to the other people who had already been there for a while.  There was a little Jewish girl who told us about their experience in Germany during the War.  We asked her if they had good finances before the War, and she said that yes they did, because they had a big 18-room home.  But they were removed from that place and sent out to nowhere.

There was an interesting incident that happened at that time.  Actually, in the very first camp that I was sent to in the beginning, there had not been enough food for us in those days, but the guards would buy us something if we had money.  In the group I was with we used to buy some rice and cook it in the most difficult circumstances.  Hygiene was not very good.  Because of the illnesses, people often had diarrhea, and there were only four restrooms for 1,500 people.  There was no toilet paper (or any paper!) available.  It was total chaos.  One day an old Jew came to our tent and saw us cooking the rice.  He asked what we were cooking and we told him that it was something to help with the diarrhea.  He begged us for a portion of it, because he was having a hard time with that problem.  So we told him to come the next day and when he came we gave him the water in which we had cooked the rice.  Now, at this last camp that I was in I suddenly saw the same man, and when he saw me he rushed in my direction.  I thought he would be mad because the rice water had probably not been a great help to him in the old camp.  But what a surprise when he started thanking me for the help he got, telling me that the rice water had worked so well for him at that time.

Those were extremely difficult days. I had no contact with my family. I didn’t know where they were or if they were still alive. The same about me, they didn’t have a clue about my whereabouts, or if I was even alive. But the time was coming for some changes to happen.”

(All rights reserved according to the Law)

06. FINAL DESTINATION: A CONCENTRATION CAMP. AN UNFORGETTABLE TRIP.

 My Dad’s narrative continued:

“After they arrested so many people, they then didn’t know what to do with us. There was actually no place set up where they would keep us.  We were put on a soccer field that night, and the next day they took us to the train station.  The whole town was on the streets looking at us, yelling and cursing and throwing rocks at us as we went by.  We were probably 600 people all together.  The crowd was mad at the Germans, and they thought we were all Germans too.  When we reached the train station, still early in the morning, we were pushed into a type of train wagon used for transportation of cattle.  It was a very hot Summer and inside those cars it was very hot because the ventilation was poor.  It was a horrible trip.  We didn’t know where they were taking us to and what would happen to us.  The human life conditions at that moment were deplorable and tough.  It was indeed a horrible trip.  I still had some food that my wife gave me when I left, but thirst was the main problem because there was absolutely no water available. 

When the train stopped at a certain station, we asked for water.  The soldiers said that they would give us water but there were no glasses that we could use.  Those of us who had a glass or bottle would get some water, but after that the glasses were taken from us and we could hear them being broken as they were thrown on the rails.  There was a Czech with us, Mr. Nedlich, who had also been taken as being German along with us.  He was probably in his mid 60s and was feeling sick, so when we reached the next station we asked the soldiers for some water.  They brought a bottle supposedly with water, but it was actually urine.  The soldiers were very mean to us.  If the prisoners in a certain wagon started to complain or to yell too much, the soldiers would just shoot several bullets randomly into that wagon. 

Only later on, when we arrived at our destination in France, we realized that on the train wagons it was written, “German Parachutists” .  This is why wherever the train was passing people on the streets were always cursing and throwing rocks at the train. 

After two days and three nights traveling in those subhuman conditions, and being already in France, the soldiers brought some buckets of water and told us to drink it.  But, how could we drink it without glasses?  They broke all our glasses on the first day of the trip.  Then some of us tried to drink using our hands, but the soldiers would not allow us to do that, saying that doing it would contaminate the water and the others would not be able to drink clean, pure water.  So we stood there looking at that water but nobody could drink it.  After a while the soldiers asked, “So nobody is thirsty, nobody wants to drink anymore?” But nobody could!  So they just poured the water on the floor and left.  We could feel the water running away from us.  What a thirst it was! 

We finally arrived at the final destination, at Le Vigan, in southern France.  As we were leaving the train one man fell down on the ground and would not move. The soldiers started beating him and  stabbing  him with their bayonets but he would not move at all. Actually he was already dead. He was killed, gunned down in the train in one of those instances when prisoners were asking for water and the soldiers had shot against the train.  

We were then taken to a certain place where other prisoners were already waiting, and there was a total of approximately five thousand people. There were several big warehouses prepared for prisoners at that place. The soldiers brought a big container of water but almost nobody actually could drink because of the commotion and confusion in the crowd. After a few minutes came a French official yelling, “stop drinking the water, stop drinking the water, the water is contaminated”   We spent the night at that place, but in the middle of the night one of the people in our building started yelling, “I want my dog, where is my dog?”  Which after a while triggered the soldiers’ anger and they beat him up very badly, until he finally stopped. He probably was mentally ill, because after a while he started doing the same thing. Again, he was beaten up. After a couple of times more, he was finally taken out of the camp and we didn’t see him until a long time after that. 

The next morning we finally were given some water and were told that we would get something to eat for lunch. That would be the first meal after three days. Some of us found a few old, empty cans and because there were no plates for the food, we cleaned those cans with sand so that we could use them to eat. When we finished cleaning them suddenly a physician was passing by and asked us what they were for. When we told him he said that the cans could not be used, because they were not appropriate for human food. He took the cans and destroyed them. Later on the food was brought, but since we didn’t have any plates or other containers for the food, the soldiers took the remaining old, still dirty cans that they could find and served us the food in them. 

In my case, when I left home my wife gave me some food and a loaf of bread. After those three days I still had a piece of bread and some food left. Close to me was a Jew who had nothing to eat and was very hungry, so I shared my food with him. Later on, when we went to the concentration camp, that man told the officers in charge that he had worked in Germany as a cook, so he was sent to work in the kitchen. And because I had shared my food with him now he was being kind and generous to me and I always could get a little more food than the regular portion given to each person. Actually my first meal was fantastic, although we had only one dish, a type of big beans. I got my portion, ate it fast, and my friend gave me another portion. I ate it again, and here he was giving me another portion. It seemed that the lights of a dark world were being turned on again. 

Unfortunately, that food we were given that first day made me sick at night. I had to ask the guards to help me, so one of them took me to the place they had prepared for occasions like that. It was not a fancy restroom, I guarantee. But I can’t forget how I felt better after that. It was a full Moon, and the night was very beautiful.

Later on we were transferred to another camp, where we stayed for about three weeks. Every once in a while we were moved to a different place, and we were treated as prisoners. In my case, just because Germany had invaded my country. The conditions were really bad, with almost no food all the time. 

One day we were told that we had to leave the building we were at, and a group of soldiers came to pick up (actually confiscate) all our belongings. One of my friends asked me what to do, because he had 6,000 Francs and was afraid that they could take the money from him. My idea was that we should make a hole in the ground and keep the money hidden there. I made sure to learn exactly where we were, because it would be difficult to find the site in such an open field

After the soldiers cleaned up the building, they sent us back into it, and then they went to check the place where we had been, in the field, looking for objects that could probably be hidden there - like the man’s money. But we were fortunate because the next day I went back to the site where the money was hidden and sure enough, it was still there. The man wanted to give me half of the money, but I refused. I didn’t want to take his money. But he finally gave me a thousand francs anyway. That money was my only possession that day. Nothing else was left. Everything was taken away from me. I had only one pair of pants, one shirt, and one coat. All were old. This was all I had, besides being a prisoner. My shoes were destroyed in two weeks, due to the hard conditions of the terrein where we were kept. 

At that time we had no idea of what the days ahead would be like,what would happen to us, or if we would even survive. But this will be told in the next segment.”

(All rights reserved according to the Law)

05. HEADING TO A CONCENTRATION CAMP? IT CAN’T BE!

My Dad’s narrative continued: 

“The city of Liège is a big town and there are many firearms manufacturers there. We used to buy from many of them, and that helped me when I went to live there. We kept good relationships. One of those manufacturers was a good friend of mine, who supplied us with good and inexpensive rifles. I remember talking to him very often. After the war I learned that the Germans killed him because they accused him of supplying rifles to the resistance. It was sad, because he was a good man. 

After my family came we were living close to where Emil Just lived, and our friendship continued.  He used to visit us very often. He was a good religious man. My wife didn’t like him much at first because he told us that, if needed, a true believer should even abandon his own family for the sake of God, i.e., following God would be above keeping one’s own family if a choice had to be made. Of course my wife didn’t like those ideas (neither did I) and she fought him on that. But along the way they made peace because, after all, he was a good person who often came to help us at home when needed and sometimes helped her to wash some clothes, too. At one time I was a little bit mad at him because, a few days before, he had given his last money to a man who I was sure used the money to buy alcohol. I told him about my madness, but he told me not to be concerned about him, that he had someone who has been taking care of him for many years - God. But now the man had no money left, and I told him, “Fine, let’s see how you will buy food and other goods by tomorrow.” For my surprise,the next day the mailman delivered him a letter from Switzerland containing $1,350 Swiss Francs. A certain lady, who he didn’t even know, used to send him some money once in a while, to help him with the expenses. I was impressed with his faith in God and how things would always work out when he was in trouble. 

I didn’t make many friends in that place, but there were two brothers also from Ostrava who lived close to us who I knew, so we kept in touch. 

I was concerned with my wife’s situation since she was an illegal alien living in Belgium. Thus, one day I went to the immigration service to try to fix the situation. I explained it all to the clerk, but after a while he went to the exit door, opened it and waited for me to leave. That was the best answer and help I got from him. But very soon all Belgians would understand us better, when about two months later Belgium was in the same situation as our country, i.e., invaded by the Germans. 

We were in Belgium for over a year now. I had made some money during that time and I wanted to buy a car from my Country, a Škoda. So I sent a person, named Tertz, with the money and he brought the car and drove it back to Belgium. We paid all the import taxes, and I was happy to have a less expensive car than those made in Belgium.  After a while I wanted to sell the car and the same Tertz said he had a buyer, which was a bank manager.  I signed a receipt for the amount and we went to the bank to get the money.  After waiting for a couple of hours, I realized that the bank manager had gotten the receipt and left through the back door. The next day he called me and asked for the car saying that he had a valid receipt and that the car was his.  I was shocked.  But, according to the law I had actually  stated that I received the money and thus the car was his.  However, the war was now too close to Belgium and he was called to serve the army, and in the middle of that confusion he couldn’t do much about the case.  The car had only 2,000 km, and later on I sold it to a lady who was disabled and needed a car.  When I was counting the cash she paid me with I realized that she had given me 1,000 francs in excess.  I asked her if she had counted the money before paying me, to which se said that she was a businesswoman and she never made mistakes when dealing with a business.  I kept thinking of what to do, because I needed money very much at that time, but I decided to keep being an honest person and told her that if she wanted she could check it out again and count the money again.  Which she did, and of course she gladly kept the excess money.  It was a great temptation for me because it was Christmas time and I needed some more money badly.

Thinking that my wife was illegally in the country, we kept changing our address, trying to always live in a way that our presence would not be noticed by the authorities.  It was not easy to find a place to live because people would not rent when they realized that we were hiding from the police.  On a certain occasion we were living with an elderly lady.  As Christmas was approaching, one day I was looking through the front window and saw that the small store across the street was selling Christmas trees.  I decided to buy the tree later on that Christmas eve day, so that the children will not see us decorating it.  But when I went there to buy it I realized that it was too late, they were all sold out.  I went to other places in town and could not find a single tree.  All were sold out.  Then I went to a hill close to our home where there were some trees and I thought I could cut one fresh from that park.  As I drove uphill I found a small store with many trees for sale and as I talked to the owner he told me that he was already closing for the night and I could take as many trees as I wanted, for free.  It was too late to sell them, it was already Christmas eve.  Our kids were very happy with the tree.  Years later when I went to visit that town again I went to that place looking for that store, to thank the man again for his kindness, but I could not find him.  There was no store at that place and nobody in the neighborhood knew about such a store.  Till today I wonder what had happened that night on that hill.

After a while we moved to another place in South Belgium, close to the French border. We lived in a cozy home there, which also had a nice backyard. Close to us was a big house where many Jewish families were living. They were refugees from many parts of Germany and Austria;they were all good neighbors. Unfortunately there, too, I was considered a spy at least once. One morning someone knocked on the door, and when I opened there were 4 individuals pointing guns at me.  They searched our home thoroughly, looking for something everywhere. Having found nothing, their commander asked me what financial resources I had, what was my living made of. I told him that I had cash. He wanted to know in what bank the money was deposited, and I told him that I had the cash in my own home. Which according to him was impossible because the guards under his command had just searched the house and found nothing. We had a can where we kept coffee in and underneath the coffee I had a packet with the money. I had sold the two cars I had, so there was a substantial amount of cash. He became very mad at his subordinates, telling them that they should have been able to find the microfilms they were looking for, and that they were not doing a good job because they couldn’t even find that money which was very well hidden. I asked him why they were searching us, and what microfilms was he talking about?

He told us what happened. Our house was a one story building and people could see from the outside what was happening inside. There were some blinds on the windows when we moved in, but they didn’t work, so I had to fix them to have some privacy. As I was working on them, a neighbor had seen me doing that and immediately told the police that I was installing a radio transmitter on my windows, that I was a spy for the Germans. So after he apologized all of them left and everything was back to normal again.

A few days later, however, I looked through the window and I saw a French tank right in front of our house. I called my wife to look at it, and we immediately knew that the war was coming to our town very soon, too. The war actually followed us and found us.  One day I was working in my yard wearing old shoes and old clothes when the police came and told me to accompany them to the police station.  Once we got there I was told that because my country was under the control of Germany, I was considered now being a German, and all Germans had to be imprisoned immediately because of the war.  My wife didn’t go with me because two of our children were sick, so she had stayed at home with them.  Actually, when the police officers came to our home they wanted us all to go with them but just at that moment the doctor had arrived to see our children and told the police that the children could not go because of their illness, and that they needed their mother to stay with them.  Those were difficult days, where terror was everywhere.  At night all lights in the homes had to be turned off, and there were no lights on the streets - thus, the planes from the enemy could not target the city. 

Some time before that, when we still lived in Liege, we had made several friends and there was one person, an engineer whose name I forgot.  He had suggested that we enrolled in the Czech voluntary army in France.  I didn’t like the idea but I did enroll and I was told that because of my background I could serve working in a warehouse repairing weapons.  Then when the war hit Belgium, I went to the French Embassy and told them I would serve in the army, but my family had to be taken to Paris.  Which they would not agree to do.  So I told them that I would not go into the army to fight, but they immediately told me that then I would be considered a defector and would be imprisoned.  I said it was fine, that I would not fight unless my family was taken to France.  But nothing happened after that, and nobody came to take me to prison either. 

So now, when I was interviewed at that police station, I told them that I was enrolled in the army, but they told me that it didn’t matter, that I was still considered to be a German. I was then locked up along with another three people, some German Jews who lived in that area, and in the afternoon of that very day we were transferred to Manseau, a nearby city.  When we got there we could see probably another thousand Germans and other Czechs  who had been arrested for the same reason.  Those people in charge were completely confused with the situation, because they had no clear understanding of why that was happening and they didn’t know what to do with us.  I told one officer that it was obvious that they were going to arrest us all, and he said he doubted because there were no reasons for that.  But sure enough that very evening we were taken to jail.

Later on  that night the Germans attacked the city with heavy air strikes.  I was in the corner of the room that we were at, just praying asking God that no bomb would hit our building.  I thought that it would be a very bad way to end my life.  But nothing actually happened to us that night, and in the next morning we were taken out and while standing in a line, they were handcuffing us.  I am a very calm person, but I would never ever allow myself to be handcuffed (I thought...).  But before the officers came to me they ran out of handcuffs, and I was left without them.  They put us all in a truck and drove us to France.  I had just become a prisoner - with no reason, but that was a fact. My main concern was with the family.  My wife had some money and I thought that soon everything would be back to normal and I would be able to go back and provide for them again. I had no clue of the disgraceful life I would have in the next few months.”

(All rights reserved according to the Law)

04: WELCOME TO BELGIUM! YOU ARE A GERMAN SPY, AREN’T YOU?

In Belgium, I had applied for immigration to Canada. Then, when I was in Holland I received a message saying that I had to go to the Canadian Embassy in Antwerp for an interview. At the Embassy I was asked what I wanted to do in Canada, and what experience I had. At that time Canada was accepting people who had $40,000 in cash and wanted to start a business, or people who would work on farms. I had no money at that time, so I immediately became an experienced laborer willing to work on a farm!... I told them that I used to work on a farm in my country (a white lie, of course…). That led to another meeting when I was asked some technical questions related to my extensive farming experience... The man asked me how we used to feed the cows, and since we had one (only one!) cow at our property in Hranice, I had some clues about it - though I had a very restricted experience with real cattle. Another question was, how many cows can you milk in one hour? Well, that was a killer question because I had no experience with that. My answer was that it depended on the type of cows we would milk, that each cow is different from each other and it is impossible to estimate it. My answers convinced the interviewer, and I felt I was now on my way to Canada! 

It all looked good, I had the assurance from the interviewer that I would get the authorization to go to Canada. As I was leaving his office, he accompanied me on my way out to the street. When the biggest coincidence in my life happened. As we were shaking hands, on the street, suddenly someone talked to us. It was Mr. Goldsmith, a person who used to be our customer in Ostrava, who bought some hunting rifles from us once in a while. He was so happy to see me and started asking questions like, “What are you doing here so far from home?” , and “Where is your family?”  Then the Canadian interviewer asked Mr. Goldsmith if he knew me, to which he answered, “Of course I know him, I bought from him the best hunting rifles I ever had, and they used to fix all my shotguns when they were bad.” 

 

Well, that was not the best thing that happened to me that day. Why right there, at that very decisive moment? I was panicking. The Canadian asked me to come back to his office so that we could talk more... So we went back to his office, and he asked for an explanation of that situation. I said that my father had a business in Ostrava, and I was working on the family’s farm. But in the Winter, there was nothing to do on the farm so I went to Ostrava to help in the store - which was the time when they were busy the most.

Later on I learned from a friend of mine who was in Canada and worked for a government office related to immigration, that they received a positive recommendation to accept me for immigration, saying that although it seemed that I was not totally truthful during my interview I was the type of person that met the requirements for immigration. Some time later I received a message saying that I could go to Canada. However, the immigration to Canada could happen only during the Spring and Summer, so that people would not arrive there during the cold months which made it much difficult to start their life - especially for those who intended to work on ... a farm!…

 

There were still difficulties bringing my family into Holland. They were still waiting at the border at that time. I went to the German office to obtain a visa for one day so that I could go to Germany to meet them. I called my wife and told her to come to the neutral zone that was demarcated between Holland and Germany, which belonged to both countries. She came driving her car and we finally met. There was a small restaurant in that neutral zone, where we stayed for a few hours thinking about how to resolve the problem.

From that restaurant we could see the small station where the checkpoint was between the two countries. Suddenly I noticed that the crew was leaving on their bicycles, and the other crew would take over. We jumped in the car and drove quickly to that check point as we drove back toward Holland. The officer took my passport and then I noticed that the chief of the prior crew was coming back directly to the place where we were. I was very scared at that moment, especially when I noticed him coming to talk to me. He came and asked me, “and what happened to that person who came with you to Germany, did he stay in Germany then?”  I just answered yes to it, and he left. He certainly confused me with someone else, because nobody was with me at the time I got into that neutral zone. The officer who was checking documents then just gave me back my passport without even checking anything and very soon we were out of there and on our way back to Belgium - very fast, believe me...  

 

Before I left Belgium to get my family, I was no longer living with Just. I had rented a small room where we were supposed to live temporarily after coming back from Holland. It was only a very simple place, and the only furniture I had was a small table, a bed, and a chair. I was very concerned with the whole situation, because of course my wife and the children were there illegally. But we were happy having at least a place to stay. The next day after our arrival, at 9:00 am, suddenly someone knocked on the door and to my surprise, it was the police. They started questioning me about who I was, and also wanted to know who was a certain individual that, according to them, was living there with me, the man with a beard. There was nobody living with me, I told them. Only later on I remembered that before I left for Holland I cleaned up the place I was staying at and there was a man who lived up on the hills, relatively close to my place, who like Just was also a 7th-day Adventist and had come to help me with the cleaning. I explained it all to the police, and they went to check the man out. After confirming all the details of what I told them, they just left. It was the first time I was called a spy! During war everyone becomes afraid of everyone and we, being foreigners, would bring all kinds of suspiciousness against us from people in the neighborhood - just because…

One day I was sitting on a bench in a park, reading a letter I had received from a friend, and was replying to it. A couple of days later I received a note from the police station asking me to appear at their office. When I got there one officer started to interview me saying, “Sir, you are a spy, aren’t you?”  I told him right away, “you don’t believe it yourself, because if you believed it you would aollow me time enough to catch the whole team and not just me”  He agreed to that and let me go. But when I was leaving I made a joke, I told him, “I must confess to you that yes, I am a spy. My task was to inform the Germans how many Belgian soldiers had a mustache and how many didn’t…”  Of course he became furious and told me to disappear fast unless I wanted to be actually incarcerated. What had happened is that when I was sitting in that park there was an army division training close to the place and they thought that I was taking notes about their activities and how many they were, etc…

Well, at least now we were reunited again and had place to stay; it was a very small and modest place, but there were no Germans around to threat us. We were ready to restart our life.”

(All rights reserved according to the Law)