Newsletter (2017-2018) February 2018 Newsletter | Page 17

He frowned as the memories rushed to him.
“They came. They came! I was just working in
front of the house and they came! They did not
even ask. They started to look all over our house.
I thought it was the end. I wanted to cry that he
was with us, that he forced us to hide him and
we do not have anything in common! It was his
fault! My heart was beating so fast that I was not
able to do anything. I was just watching them as
they opened every closet, door and box. Then,
they spotted the hayloft.
“I thought it would be our end! One of the sol-
diers started to jab into the hay, exactly at the
place where he was hidden. I wanted to cry.
I wanted to shout that it was my fault, so they
would leave my family alone. Then the soldier
came to me and looked into my face. It seemed
as if he was looking for a confession in my eyes.
The feeling was horrible. I knew that I was al-
ready a dead man by that time the soldier came
over to me, I was just waiting for him to say it––
the order to execute me. But he turned away, or-
dered others to go away and whole group left.
“When I was sure they were gone, I ran to the
pile of hay to find out what happened. Only then
I did I notice small doors under the pile. I opened
them and I saw him sitting in a small wine cel-
lar. His face was red and full of sweat. Then, he
thanked me and left.”
“They caught a lot of us. Those who were caught
were tortured and sent to labour camps. Some
were executed right after being tortured. Just
a few of us returned. One day, our leader gave
me a little task to do, but someone in our group
must have been a rat. They caught me and put
me in prison. They tortured me to get more
names. I resisted, so they stopped after a few
weeks. When they tortured you, it was good be-
cause you knew they did not want to kill you, as
you still might carry important information. But
once they stopped, it was your end.”
His face did not express any emotions.
“I was put in front of the tribunal. Guilty on one
count of...it doesn’t matter what they said I was
guilty of. It was like children playing a game,
everything was made up. It was kind of funny.
You had to sign a paper saying that you agreed
to your execution. They took me to my last in-
terrogation with the chief officer. He told me to
sit, sent all the others away, and closed the door.
I was reconciled with my fate. I just wanted to
sign the paper and die. There was no other way,
so I wanted to finish it quickly. But then I saw
him to burn the paper, and I did not understand.
“He said, ‘Twenty years ago, you saved my life.
You can go but I do not want to see you here
again.’ I was released right after and went ho me
to your grandmother.”
The grandfather’s face was calm again for a sec-
ond. But then his wrinkles became even more
distinct.
“But there’s more to this story...When I was for-
ty, the Communists were something like kings in
our country. Everyone had to do what they said.
They took our house and put us into a small
flat. I hated them. I hated them so much that I
became a part of the rebellious forces. I found
many great friends there.”
Barbora is an exchange
student from the Czech
Republic. She has been
writing since she was four
years old. Her dream is
to publish a book about
Czech heritage.
Suddenly, his granddaughter spotted a little
smile for a second, but then his face became sad
again.
17
FEBRUARY 2018