"Dad came back in 1948. The guys came to Děhylov, a lot of them. I went to meet them, so I remember there must have been at least a hundred and fifty of them. They were divided into groups and marched towards Hlučín. I was looking for my father. Everybody was telling me it was strange because I didn't even know my father. I walked among the prisoners, actually they weren't prisoners anymore. They were happy, cheerful, having fun, and suddenly: 'Dad!' And I ran to my dad. He cried and I cried with him. And I'll never forget the way he looked at my feet and said, 'You must be pretty wild.' He saw how my nails were scuffed, my feet were scratched because we used to run around barefoot. But I didn't whine, and my dad said, 'You must be fun.'"
“Back then, when I should have been getting used to the military and everything, I used to go to the movies. You could watch heroes like Alyosha. He was shooting fast like an American cowboy and the Germans were dropping dead. Those movies were twisted! I didn't realize it, but in my little boy's soul, I started to dislike my dad. And I even told him once. And then he told me that he has never shot anyone, and that I might or might not believe him. But it wasn't like he was apologizing for being in the army. And then he opened my eyes completely when he said he never liked this Hitler. That was after the war. Then I forgave him even for beating me. Everything was forgotten."
"My mom's name was Hedvika Bayerová (Krupová after getting married). She was skilful, she liked to sing, people say she was very nice, she was lovely and cheerful. However, a terrible thing happened. I was three years old when she died in 1945 after being raped by the Russians. She had complications, was hospitalized and died. My dad was in captivity at the time, so he wasn't even at the funeral. I was three years old, but I clearly remember her lying there covered in holy pictures. They told me that mom was asleep, and all that kind of things. To this day it still makes me sick."
My mother was lying covered in pictures of saints, she was not sleeping. She died after being raped by a military platoon
Rudolf Krupa was born on March 5th 1942 in Hlučín, which at that time belonged to the German Reich. His father, Adolf Krupa, had to enlist in the Wehrmacht. His mother Hedvika died in the spring of 1945 after being raped by a platoon of Soviet soldiers. She suffered poisoning and the doctors could not save her. She was thirty years old. His father was captured by the English and didn‘t return home until 1948. In the meantime, little Rudolf was cared for by his older sisters and a relative, Marie. He wanted to study to be a forester, but he didn‘t get a letter of recommendation. He was apprenticed as a lathe operator. Later he worked as a lathe operator for several companies in Ostrava. He got married and raised two children with his wife. After 1989 he started his own business. He worked as a taxi driver and sold jewelry. There are no remaining records of his mother‘s violent death in 1945.