Kamil Mihál

“Once we got the idea to go to the Malá Amerika quarry, which is not far from the Karlštejn castle. We went from Beroun. In one pub, we met some Slovaks from Handlová. They also said they were going to Amerika. We had a couple of drinks in the pub together. In the evening, we found an abandoned house for an overnight stay near the quarry. We prepared supper, making fire. Suddenly a pack of the VB members (Public Security, the then police) and PS VB (ed. Guard Auxiliary Public Security, police helpers who wore yellow ribbons) jumped inside. They were probably employees of the quarry and in the afternoon, they „ played cops“. They beat us there, threw us on a pile and photographed us. They also took the things that we brought with us: our camouflage trousers, the tent and our military shoes... They confiscated everything. They put us on a train and told us to get out of there. With us was our friend from Tábor, who also belonged to the tramp settlement. And they beat him up the most. His father taught in Prague at the Faculty of Law at Charles University. When we got to Ostrov, and because this friend had visible bruises on his back and legs from the baton blows, we went to the doctor at the emergency room. He looked at it, ‘How did that happen?’ The cops beat us’. When he heard it, he threw us out, saying he doesn’t want to have anything to do with it. He also refused to write a medical report about it. Uncle Pařízek was an officer in the economic unit of the police in Karlovy Vary. And he was just visiting our family. When we explained everything to him, he told us that they did not have the right to confiscate our belongings and that we should go and get them back. Therefore, the next day, we sat in the car and drove first to Beroun. From there we were sent to Karlštejn to the local police station. When my uncle showed the members of the VB his badge of a Major of the police criminal investigation unit, they put it right and returned all the confiscated things.”

“Then we arrived at the yard. A field kitchen was already prepared there. They made some tea and soup. When we drank tea and ate the soup we felt immediately more cheerful. Suddenly, there was an explosion. What’s happening? What’s happening? A tank was burning. I only learnt the cause of fire from later stories. The guy who was the charger and came from Bratislava, was lying in a sleeping bag by the so called „bufík“ (ed. a facility to preheat the engine). The “bufik“ caused the sleeping bag to catch fire and he did nothing better than to throw it on the driver seat which is all greasy. The seat caught fire in a spark of a second. The charger jumped from the tank and the flames began to spread immediately. The driver was even trying to close the hatches, but he didn’t make it. And then came the explosion of what we called 'kila' (Ed. 100 mm grenades into the tank gun). Because of the combat readiness, a fully armed tank carried 43 of these 'kilos'. It was like fireworks on New Years’ Eve. The Kilos were flying out of both the hatches. The surrounding tanks had to start immediately and be taken far from the site of the burning tank. I haven’t seen anything like this in my life. It really was an amazing fireworks display. Closest to this was an armored bridge-launching vehicle and inside, there was my friend Jarda, sound asleep! When they woke him up and he realized what was happening, he left immediately in a rush.”