Herbert Rösler

Annelise: “They wanted to send our old granny away. My father said that if she went, we would go as well. I was twelve at the time, my sister was six.” Herbert: “Our granddads had a so-called Gottwaldschein. A card that said they worked in the glass works, that they could not be deported.” Annelise: “We had an armband, a white one, like that we’re Germans, and a P on it to show we were workers [pracující].”

Annelise: “We had a course. How are things? - Thank you, not too bad, one mustn’t complain. That’s how we learnt, but that’s all we knew. I knew one more phrase from my dad: Pretty girl - kissy. When I was fourteen, I still couldn’t speak Czech properly, I just couldn’t. They didn’t teach me it at home.” Herbert: “I served in the military without speaking any Czech. I still can’t speak it. My commander knew some German, he was Hungarian, one Bútora: ‘Rösler, if you didn’t have it well set up, I will shoot you.’ ”

“I did military service in Šumava in 1954 to 1956.” Annelise: “He cried as soon as he arrived, he didn’t know anything there.” - “That was the loveliest time of my life. We were all equal there, Gipsies, Hungarians, Slovaks, Germans, Czechs. I was there with three friends of mine. It wasn’t the AUC [Auxiliary Engineering Corps, forced labour - transl.], no, it was normal service. Artillery.” Annelise: “He was an exemplary soldier. We’re bristling with medals.”