Jiří Štěpnička

“The political situation was very tough in the 1950s. Initially the visits took place in a room divided into small compartments with a glass and bars and just a narrow opening where we could touch our hands. Otherwise we were separated. I don’t remember much from those times. I remember the trip and aunt Maryša [accompanying him]. She and mum mostly discussed politics, and I don’t remember what we talked about during the times when we were separated. Then, as the political thaw got underway, the approach to visits became more relaxed, and eventually we would sit at a table in a room, just me, mum, aunt, an officer, and some prison guards in the corners of the room.”

“Film director Čapek allegedly wrote to [my mother] that he could offer her two film roles; if she came back to London, they could make the films. By then, it was the 1950s and you could not just travel out of the country. So, mum opted to cross the border illegally. I walked with her. I was three years old. We walked for a long time; it must have been at least a week, and then we stopped at the edge of the forest. A stream ran along the edge of the forest, there was a meadow past the stream, and past the meadow there was German border guard in a cabin. A guy was carrying me in a backpack. Our entire group entered the stream and started crossing. Then a voice said: ‘Stop, in the name of the law!’ and shots were fired. It was our border guard and they arrested us. Mum was nowhere to be found. I was yelling: ‘Mum, mum!’ She couldn’t take it after a while and emerged from underneath a spruce and joined us; she had been completely covered by its branches. They took me to the border guard station and took everything from my pockets. Just in case we faced difficulties early on, I had a golden snuff box and some precious rings in my pockets. They took it all from me, allegedly so I wouldn’t lose it, and said they would give it back to me when I’m leaving. They never returned anything.”