Konstantin Karger

“The Germans were well motorised back then, and they drove around in trucks. So we gesticulated at them. As boys, we had what was called ‘gumshots’, slingshots, which we loaded with stones. It had quite a range, and we often shot at the Germans on their cars. I guess we even hit someone, because they stopped as well. But we always legged it. They never shot at us. It was pretty audacious, and our parents didn’t like hearing about it.”

“We were planting potatoes in the field. It was early spring. Dad had borrowed a horse and stayed on the field, and Mum and I rode home on the horse. When we arrived, we suddenly saw Karel Cikryt dash out from the Cikryts’ place and run up along the path, with three blokes some fifty, seventy metres behind him, yelling: ‘Halt! Hände hoch!’, as in, hands up. And Karel rushed up to the path there, turned towards them and shouted: ‘Kiss my ass!’ We had to stop because they were shooting at him across the road. But none of them hit him, and he soon disappeared into the forest.”