Mária Jurčová

We were all at home. My father and his second wife. My husband came from some training, so he did not get to Zlaté Moravce anymore. So we were all in the window and we looked out. Tanks and armored vehicles crossed our street. They all had those automatics machines aimed at us. But it passed quietly, no one shouted, no one cursed. I can tell you one story. My three-year-old son left the window and returned with a Russian submachine gun he had received from his father. He also threw sparks. That I will show you! We barely tore him down. Do you know what that could be ?! Three-year old! To this day, I remind him that he wanted to destroy us. There was an affair with the bank then. And then the soldiers who occupied the bank played football in the yard with the paper ball. I walked around once and gave them my son a ball so they could played football with regular ball. There were the inscriptions on the houses: When Biľak is such a man, keep the Russians yourself and the like. Someone rubbed it. Someone else attributed. Someone wrote it down in a notebook that he might use it someday. And many used it.

The Hlinka guards took his father because he worked on the estate during the former imperial regime. And when his wife went to complain to the Gestapo, they said they didn't have him, that was work of Hlinka Guards. And so my friend last saw him in court. Charged, bloodied, and around him six guardsmen per man. So yes, they did crap. On they own people. At the same time, this Gasparik had such a golden, good and kind father. My father's friend. I don't know what offshoot took it there.

Because on March 26, my father sent our apprentice to order wood. I had to be everywhere, so I went with her. We went to the station to order wood circles, soft firewood. There were no phones then. So we went through Párovce, where there used to be a large German crew that left. We ordered and we wanted to go back to home and then we heard a big hum. I looked up then and the planes spread into the line and the bombs started falling. There was such a young German soldier, 17 years old, he had no more. "Don't worry, girl, they were not come here." Because the pressure took away it. It was nine o'clock and two or three minutes on March 26. Then the sirens began to sound as the bombs fell. And the part where we passed by car was the most attacked. The poorest part was the most attacked. When I came back, Marianka (apprentice) disconnected from me because she lived in Párovce. I passed through the former Palánok. I don't want you to see what I saw there. That was something terrible. Two people walked along the way and said: "Jesus Christ, one tailor died on Durčanská Street." There were four tailors on Ďurčanská Street. Well, what could I think he was my father? So I ran home and a bomb fell in front of our house. Full hit. The mister died. I remember he was such a nice bearded gentleman. My mother already went to me because my father went looking for me in the city.

They had wood in the yard, because we used wood to heat. And he went every night to see if anything went wrong. From somewhere, my aunt received a message directly from the Gestapo that the next day there would be a big raid on Nitra, on Jews. So my father told him, "Mr. Sonnenschein, don't go any further, because tomorrow there will be a hunt to the Jews." He didn't come anymore. I know where they were hiding. In Mojmírovce, allegedly in a dry well. That's what we talked to each other as children. They were very nice people. I went several times to light a fire on Saturdays and my father was very angry about it, I got a matzo.