“When I went to the German school, that was a school, you cannot imagine at all, it was just like barracks. Everything was in a neat order, I must admit. But the relationship between students and a teacher was just like military service. There was much physical punishment. I once forgot, well didn’t forget, but cleaned the blackboard badly. The teacher, mostly they wore an SA uniform, so called Sturmabteilung, it was a brown uniform, black riding pants, black stiefel, black high boots, and of course a belt... He called me to the blackboard up on a step, as the teacher was above the pupils. He cried: ‚Ksandr, an die Tafel!‘ ‚Ksandr, come to the blackboard!‘ He came and I was in charge of the supervision right that day. That was a single student, who was in charge of keeping order in the class. And during the break we had to march along the hallways in two cues without any speaking. We had ten minute breaks. I came up the step and he told me: ‚Ksandr, wer hat die Tafel abgewischt?‘ ‚Ksandr, who cleaned the blackboard?‘ I greeted him Heil Hitler, standing upright and he said: ‚Well, who cleaned the blackboard?‘ And I replied: ‚Herr Oberlehrer, das war ich.‘ ‚Mr. class teacher, it was me.‘ He stood up and smacked me in the face twice so that I fell down immediately. When I came back home, daddy asked me: ‚What´s happened?‘ Without any lying I had finger marks still on my cheeks. But he would have done that to anyone. That was the kind of order, just like absolutism.“
“My mum didn’t learn any German in spite and the situation was as follows; when she went to do shopping in Čepirohy, the shop was managed by a German leader from Čepirohy, wearing a brown uniform and on his door hang a label: ‚Hier wird nur Deutsch gesprochen.‘ ‚Here only German is spoken.‘ Mum told my dad: ‚Listen, I will go shopping there as he can speak Czech naturally, we´ve known each other for many years and I assume he would not forbid me providing any goods.‘ So she came in, and of course he greeted her with a left hand shouting: ‚Heil Hitler!‘ So she said it and then continued talking in Czech to the shop owner: ‚Look, you give me flour, sugar and that...‘ And he pointed to the label stating: ‚Hier wird nur Deutsch gesprochen‘, and didn’t give her anything at all. So mum left crying all the way back home and never went shopping there again. She had so much spite in herself, she stopped going shopping at all.“
“Two hours later there was banging on the door again. Daddy opened up and behind it there was a Russian, well Soviet army member and a young Russian, a lieutenant. They had two sacks. In there was food, bread, flour, whatever, in the other a gramophone and LPs. But of course those were all broken as they simply threw it inside the sack somewhere in Most, in the town. They gave it to us and left.”
Karel Ksandr was born on 21st February, 1930 in the North Bohemian village of Čepirohy in a family of a miner and agricultural labourer. His father came from the family of eleven children, the mother was originally from Příbram. In Čepirohy lived around fourty percent Czechs, mainly miners. The witness started attending Czech elementary school. Following German occupation he had to switch to the German Volksschule. He taught himself proper German and continued studying at the German secondary school in Most, which he attended until spring 1945, when the Allies air raids began to strengthen. After war he did a preparatory class for Czech students, who attended German schools, and later he joined the third class at the State real gymnasium in Most. After graduation he was accepted at the Faculty of Law of the Charles University, where he graduated in 1955. After passing rigorous examinations he got a title JUDr. and devoted all his life to working in the field of law. He´s got a son, who is a doctor.
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!
