Josef Pinkava

* 1927

  • “My son had already worked in the polygraphy industry as a photographer, and wanted to apply for photography studies at FAMU. He was told he had passed the admission examination but was not admitted due to his father’s cadre profile. Something similar happened to my daughter. My son took an assistant worker job to improve his own cadre profile, yet the answer was the same the next year – not admitted for cadre reasons. Mr Šmok, a polygraphy ace at the time, called me up and said he urgently needed to speak to my son. But, when my son learned he was not admitted, he didn’t say a word and just disappeared for two weeks. We had no idea where he was and were scared. Mr Šmok took care of it somehow, and we were informed later that our son was admitted to university.”

  • “The outcome was simple. They called me to the District Committee and told me they knew my opinions. They also said they knew our working achievements, which were admirable, but that did not change anything. Finally, they said that if I don’t publicly announce that I fully agree with and support the Russian army’s occupation of our territory and the leading role of the communist party, on the radio and in print, I would be dismissed with immediate effect. I said I disagreed, and they said I was dismissed. I expected that. It happened very briefly, and I asked to say goodbye to people in a meeting. Nobody responded, but the secretary overheard it and summoned the people to the meeting room immediately. The print shop stopped working. The news spread rapidly. I thanked everybody for their involvement in expressing our disagreement with the developments in recent days. I wished them good health, and I had never seen so many tears before.”

  • “Father and I had rented about a hectare of land near the Brodský Pond, and we were just harrowing the field. Suddenly, we heard shots fired in the east, about a kilometre away. Ten minutes later, a guy comes running from the Čermák Pond towards the Brodský Pond and jumps into the reeds. He came out a little farther and jumped in the reeds again. I gathered he was trying to hide his tracks. Then he ran towards the school in Zábrodí. Things took a bad turn there. The teacher didn’t act honourably. He got on his bike and went to report it to the gendarmerie station in Červený Kostelec.”

  • “After an hour when we were dancing despite the ban, the door opened abruptly and a man told us that the Nazis were coming. Innkeeper Mr Mertlík first turned off the radio with a news programme from England on. We feared the Nazis might touch the radio – it was still warm. The music stopped immediately, we rearranged the tables, and two soldiers with rifles were standing in the doorway two minutes later. Mr Mertlík offered them beer, and they asked what it was all about. He pretended to not understand, but then Ms Mertlíková brought in two girls who spoke good German. They had been instructed to tell the Nazis that it was a solidarity event with proceeds to be donated to war victims.”

  • Celé nahrávky
  • 1

    Velké Poříčí, 23.04.2023

    (audio)
    délka: 03:32:11
    nahrávka pořízena v rámci projektu Příběhy regionu - HRK REG ED
Celé nahrávky jsou k dispozici pouze pro přihlášené uživatele.

He saw Silver A radio operator Jiří Potůček fleeing the gestapo, zigzagging through reeds

Josef Pinkava during studies and work in Prague, early 1950s
Josef Pinkava during studies and work in Prague, early 1950s
zdroj: Archiv Josefa Pinkavy

Josef Pinkava was born on 5 November 1927 in Končiny in Horní Hradec, which is part of the Zábrodí municipality nowadays. His father was an orphan from a shepherd’s cabin, and his mother also lost her father at a young age. The young family lived a rather poor life. The situation was the worst during the crisis years. His father, a trained bricklayer, wove textiles at night after work to make ends meet. Before the World War II burst out, the witness’s father made his living building the anti-Nazi fortifications in Slavíkov. In 1942, the witness accidentally saw radio operator Jiří Potůček on the run after hiding from the gestapo in Končiny. Until the end of the war, he worked in the forest with a group of friends and tried to sabotage timber supplies to the Wehrmacht. After the war, he left for Prague in spite of his parents’ opinions to study graphic design and started working part time as a graphic designer to make his living. He gained valuable working experience and returned to his native region in 1956. He helped save unprosperous print shops in Nové Město nad Metují and Velký Šenov. This task included remedying Czech-German relationships at the plants. In the 1960s, he began process collaboration with decorative artist Vojtěch Kubašta. The famous pop-up (‘spatial’) fairy tale books were printed in Velký Šenov, primarily intended for export to western countries. Following the Warsaw Pact armies’ invasion of Czechoslovakia, the entire plant was actively involved in printing and distributing anti-occupation leaflets. In 1969, Josef Pinkava did not sign the statement to the effect that he agrees with the leading role of the CPC and with the entry of the armies, and communists kicked him out of the print shop and prevented him from working in the field. Thanks to his friends, he made living with occasional graphic design jobs. His two children, Kateřina and Ivan, were repeatedly banned from admission to university due to their cadre profile. Following the Velvet Revolution, the witness was unhappy about the privatisation of printing operations. He continued working in graphic design and original art, organised benefits for the needy, and released books about his native region. He and wife Marie were living in Červený Kostelec in 2023.