Emílie Koudelová

“My childhood was not a pretty one. I was the oldest child, and I remember a lot. But what I remember the most is that my mother’s sister bought me a little porcelain doll with hair. My parents didn’t have much money then, to buy us toys or things like that, so I played with it. And I also remember that my aunt bought me earrings, but I don’t know where they are, they’re lost. Mum sewed us a lot of dolls. Back then we lived in Palešnik with a gaffer named Mila, and my sister and I cleared and cleaned out one shed, which we furnished nicely, and that’s where we had the dolls. When a doll was sickly, I’d prick [inject] it with a toothpick, and then my sister would bury it. So that’s my earliest childhood. I remember when my sister Marie was born because Mum was alone, and I had to go to the neighbour to call the midwife, Mrs Volnová. When she came and when the little one was born, I - just a child myself - lifted the baby up and put her on the bed beside Mum. Then I grew up a bit, and I started attending school in Palešnik, but life was pretty hard. And so Mum, because she reckoned she could manage better as a seamstress in Garešnica, so we moved to Garešnica. And I grew up and completed school there, my father died there. So my childhood days were everywhere, but mostly in Garešnica, where I grew into youthhood. We didn’t have many toys as children, but we did have what today’s children don’t - we had meadows, we had good neighbours...”

“When I was working at the factory [in Germany], a soldier came into the door, and I gazed at him like this, and he actually blushed all over. He was a German soldier, but a coerced one. When he was on duty on the Russian front, he let his feet freeze, so they’d cut off a part [of his toes] and he could go back, so he wouldn’t have to fight. We became acquainted and even engaged, but when the end came, I returned home, not knowing that I wouldn’t be able to go back again. His name was Rudi Ethel; I don’t know what happened to him then. I even visited him at home, his parents were really nice, they liked me, they even said they’d look after the children [the witness’s younger siblings - ed.] if they survive. He helped me get the children out into a village, they were in an evacuated school, but they weren’t in Leipzig. Then when the war was slowly coming to an end, I left to get the children and brought them home, but no sooner had we reached the train station, there was another air raid. They clobbered us a full week, but no more after that. The people we were in touch with, although they were Germans, they were kind people. I was also in touch with people from the camp, there were a lot of us there, I can’t remember how many. And another thing is important: I was allowed to go by tram, I was allowed to walk wherever I wanted to, no one caused me any trouble. In the end they didn’t even notice I was a foreigner any more because I learnt to speak German so well that they couldn’t even tell. And one time I was in a tram, and some Czechs came there, they’d come to do [forced] labour in Leipzig. Boys will be boys, when they noticed a girl... They were also allowed to move freely [around the town], they were no trouble. And there was one Erika in the tram, and they crowded up to her, they wanted her to go to the cinema with them, but they couldn’t speak good German, so it didn’t go so well. And she said she wasn’t interested. I knew where they lived, and I heard they spoke Czech, I knew who they were. So when Erika got our, they came to me and started, Miss here, Miss there... One said, Miss, you could come this evening. And I said, if I hadn’t heard what you spoke about with Erika, perhaps I would have. Christ! She’s one of us Czechs!” [The boys were surprised that she could speak Czech.]