"It gave me a little sense of satisfaction. I remember them handing us our diplomas, which took place in the Teplice theatre as part of the graduation ceremony for the graduates of the Faculty of Education. It was a very powerful moment for my colleague Prousek and me. They first handed over the diplomas to the regular graduates, and then the dean took the floor at the end, saying it was extraordinary to award the diplomas to two former students of the faculty after rehabilitation. We went to the stage, and there was such a nice moment when all the students and professors stood up and applauded us. That was very powerful."
"At the height of the party, a political leader came in running and said, 'Something's happening in your country!' Fortunately, we had transistor radios with us and managed to catch a shortwave broadcast from Czech Radio in Ústí nad Labem with the first news of the invasion into Czechoslovakia. Of course it was a very big shock for us. It was also a shock for the Soviet students who were boys the same age as us, in their twenties. They didn't understand what had happened and why it had happened. We stopped working in protest, and we wanted to go home. Nothing happened for two days, then buses took us to the Chaika camp on the shore of the Black Sea where they were gathering all the Czechoslovaks from the Ukraine, since there were probably many more workers there. We stayed there until 3 September 1968 when we were all taken to Prague by train. Of course, it was a shock in Prague when we got off at the main station, with military patrols everywhere, Russian uniforms and tanks in the streets. It was only then that we realized the horror that had begun and what we would have to live in. The only beautiful memory I have of the Chaika camp was when we were temporarily interned, we were joined by a group of Ukrainians who had a meeting with us for the evening in this remote place behind the camp, where they all expressed their great support for being with us. We asked them, 'Are you Ukrainians or Russians?' And they said, 'No, we're Jews.' That was interesting, the Jews probably knew more about it than all the Russians and Ukrainians combined. It was a powerful moment when we were leaving the Chaika camp in the morning of 2 or 3 September at four o'clock in the morning. The Hebrews stood outside at four o'clock in the morning and greeted us with clenched fists as a symbol that we had to endure, not give in, and stay true to ourselves."
"I didn't witness the beginning of the occupation [the invasion of the Warsaw Pact troops] because I was selected as one of ten students of the faculty for holiday work in the Soviet Union sometime in early July. We went to the town of Yahotyn in Ukraine where we were assigned as a student brigade to the local sovkhoz to harvest watermelons. This is where we spent a half of July and August until the beginning of September. Before I go back to what was going on there, I would like to say that when we went to the Soviet Union by train, we saw carloads of military equipment in stations along the way. Since there was an exercise of Warsaw Pact troops on the territory of our republic in July, witnesses will remember a big debate in the press about when they would leave, if they leave. They kept delaying leaving our country, but the fact is that it was already a preparation for the invasion. I remember when we passed one train with a military transport, we called out to the Russians where they were going. They said: 'To you, things are not right in your country!' But we never imagined that what happened on 21 August could happen."
Milan Rosenkranc was born in Prague on 11 October 1949. His parents divorced after his birth and he and his mother lived with his grandparents in Děčín. He grew up in an atmosphere of post-war hatred towards the original deported German population. He watched the gradual demolition of the historic city core, which sparked his interest in monuments and history. This interest led him to study history and he enrolled at the Faculty of Education in Ústí nad Labem after high school in 1967. At the beginning of the summer holidays in 1968 he was selected for holiday work in the Soviet Union. When the students heard the news of the invasion of Czechoslovakia by Warsaw Pact troops, they refused to continue. At the faculty, the witness was involved in organising the occupation strike of the universities in November 1968. At the end of the year, he co-founded the student magazine Messenger from Budeč, which not only reported on political events but also presented literary works. The magazine was banned at the onset of normalisation in the spring of 1969. The local communist party unit pressured the editors of the student magazine to revoke the opinions they had printed in the magazine. Students Milan Rosenkranc and Karel Prousek were first reprimanded by the dean and then finally expelled in 1970 for their anti-socialist and anti-Soviet views. The witness was no longer allowed to continue his studies and ended up in menial jobs due to his cadre profile. After the fall of the communist regime, he received out-of-court rehabilitation, under which he was able to complete his studies and graduated in 1990. He became the director of the museum in Děčín and held the position until 2017. He lived in Děčín at the time of filming (March 2024).
