F/Sgt Vladimír Palička, 313 Sqn pilot, recalls his return to Czechoslovakia in August 1945, his life in the immediate post WW2 period there, and how, after the Communist coup d’état, in February 1948, those who had served in the West during WW2 were now subject to persecution under the Communist regime in Czechoslovakia, and his subsequent escape to the American Zone in Germany.
We Return to our Homeland:
We, pilots sitting at our last English breakfast with eggs for the aircrew with bacon and a toast with bitter orange marmalade were emotionally very affected; this resulting in more noise and the incessant chatter.
For me, the most memorable occasion of that day was my sorrow whilst flying over the English Channel for those comrades, who were now lying somewhere deep down and shall they be able to shout their messages of warm greetings to their mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, who were of course awaiting them in Prague.
These boyish airmen of long ago, who had such enormous imagination and optimism, that even during their hungry days in Poland in their one pair of trousers, Jacket and a comb with handkerchief, they were convinced (as against hundreds who stayed behind) that they would in due course constitute a menace to Hitler’s glorious Reich. I was choked (a man of few words) when we finally made a perfect landing in Prague airfield.
Unknown to me, who at this stage had no idea how my relations survived the occupation, my father heard the news about our flying in, that he took off from home. During his journey he was thinking that his dream of his son being alive had finally come true-whilst his wife never had the slightest doubt that he would return. He made the journey just in time to see Spitfires landing and after they taxied to their parking place, he and everybody else was just running and running until he found the Spitfire from which his only son Vladimír was emerging. He embraced in tears, but I was astonished how quickly amongst all these people he found me. I sat him at once in my Spit, and began to show him how this ‘locomotive’ is driven.
My father being a technically minded man, was bewildered (to say the least) by the amount of gauges-height indicator, engine revolutions I assured him, because the cockpit consisted of crisscrossing frames whereas the Spitfire had one perspex bubble over you.
Whilst returning to the Departure Hall, we observed heart rending sights of mothers and relations asking desperately where was their son pilot etc. Although the Czech Inspectorate for Air Force affairs already sent from England to all relations the sad announcements of the deaths of their beloved ones – it was obvious with various parents not living in 1939 address any longer, ‘the tragic news never as yet reached them. In case of sweethearts some of them married, it was still interesting how many searched for Franta or Josef etc. Before we departed, I had to report to my C/O and was pleasantly surprised that not being married … would I accept the Motor Transport Section? In those days of not even petrol for taxis I accepted with alacrity because I could then be with my father and see my mother and sister.
We began working as a Wing 14 days after a compassionate leave. The Czechoslovak Air Force was non-existent and had to be reorganised speedily, preferably on the RAF principle whereby we had enough Ground Staff including General Karel Janoušek who could do it in a short time.
I was promoted to a rank of Captain and so was my friend Otto Špaček from my squadron. We were both single and lived in Prague, awaiting the future posting. We disliked intensely Russian Yaks aircraft at Prague Ruzyně airfield and also the uncouth Soviet soldiers in their pathetic dirty uniforms. In England every man shaves automatically, and we all, coming back, were used to it. Also, we were used to the British population general behavior. Clean, calm and correctly behaving at all times and most of all tolerant to each other and never furiously gesticulating like here. All that aggressiveness was very unpleasant, but then we were back in our own country and would have to accept the different mode of behaviour.
Both our postings arrived! We were to go to Olomouc where the instructors were desperately required. Olomouc was always the airbase for the 2nd ‘Dr Edvard Beneš‘ Air Regiment. We were welcomed by a Staff Captain Murcek our Commanding Officer of this school. In no time we were both enjoying ourselves imparting our knowledge of flying and in the evenings departing for Olomouc Centre or stayed in the Officers Mess.
For me, a most important thing in my life happened; I fell in love with a Olomouc girl and in no time I was happily married man! This county is not like Bohemia, because here the good food and beer is more important. The landmark around Olomouc was a hill with a huge church on top of it. It was called Svatý Kopeček (Saint Hill) and it was vital for young pilots flying ‘solo’ to find themselves on the right course for landing at Olomouc airbase.
I was very glad that I escaped the bachelor’s status, because as such one would be given duties since the excuse was ‘nobody awaits you at home’ above the normal quota. Gradually with luck we began to get used to our new strange country and enjoyed our flying instructors career. ALAS! Things were not what they should be in our relationship with the Czechoslovak Air Force Staff who always lived here and to begin with were ashamed that they never escaped and we were young Captains without that horrible long grind to reach even a rank of nadporučík (F/O). The conversation in the Mess was always muted when we approached our tables as if we belonged to another race.
The main reason for all this was the gradual indoctrination of Czechoslovak Nation towards the complete Communist State. At the top were Moscow trained Czechoslovak Communists like Alexander Dubček, Rudolf Slánský, Klement Gotwald and many others. They now formed and instructed their lesser subordinates in task of spreading a discontent at all costs. What was most horrible surprise was the fact, that even without a creation of the Communist State (to come) the majority of the Communist party Members of Parliament voted for a law allowing the regular officers and other ranks to join the Communist party. This was therefore the end of democrat command in the Armed Czechoslovak Forces, since the commanding officers could not exercise their privilege of giving direct orders but were governed by a sort of a Political Commissar. That meant the end of General Janoušek who was at this very moment reorganising the Czechoslovak Air Force on the well-established RAF scale, which in turn was based on the British business sound practice. A new order arrived to confirm this unsatisfactory state of affairs, because we were short of training airplanes which were German anyway. The order was to cannibalise the crashed machine and use the spare parts. This practice is not recognised internationally, but it looks like they-on the top-do not care.
At times we were discussing the former life in the RAF and friends who had married English girls. This practice was frowned upon by many Czech squadron leaders and in some cases prohibited. Now many of them were probably laughing. My wife Zdeňka was now expecting our first child and although the whole situation and pleasure in being back in my own country doing what I was only dreaming of previously and being married to a pretty Olomouc girl was a miracle itself – I refused to say anything at all and kept to myself.
Staff Captain Murcek called me today and informed me that I was wanted as an instructor for advanced flying in aerobatics. lt was to be at Prostějov airbase. This would normally be a prestige posting and obviously I was thought very highly of by my Commanding Officer – but with Zdeňka being pregnant it diminished my enthusiasm.
Nevertheless, I told her and she was pleased, because I considered myself a good acrobat and aspired to be even better in due course. When I arrived to Prostějov, I was introduced to my former Sergeant pilot friend Rudolf Zima who flew in Duxford during the Battle of Britain Days when I was servicing the Hurricanes, but in the Sergeants Mess, we Czech airmen often met and I was always pumping him for more information about his aerobatics. Even at that time he was over 30 and had at least 1,000 hours on fighters (exclusively) when he joined the RAF and 310 Czech squadron.
Here he was a Commanding Officer of the school and was very pleased to see an ex RAF man. His deputy was a fighter pilot František Kruťa a man with a very distinguished career because he was amongst 22 pilots that Czechs sent to Russia as a Hurricane squadron, to help Russia. In his group was František Fajtl as well. Kruťa was shot down during the Slovak Uprising in a Junkers aircraft (in those days they flew anything) but managed to escape the capture and walked back to his squadron. He made a very good business man after the War was over in the Czech artificial jewellery business, but when the Commies arrived, he was out of luck and departed to England with his 2 children. He was a chef in the Czech National House in Hampstead in London, but decided to emigrate to Western Australia where he died only in 1991. So you can see that I was in a very distinguished company and I think that Zima heard about me from Murcek in Olomouc and that I had the exceptional qualities – Who knows! The unpleasant atmosphere between us and the pre-war Czech airmen continued and was not a nice state of affairs, when we gradually were weary in being careful and not using a word ‘England’ even when talking about various flying experiences. But I was busy and very happy in my new job; the only problem was that Zdeňka was in last stages of pregnancy and I wanted to be near her. Zima often flew me to Olomouc himself.
My son was born and I suggested a name of John. At this very emotional and important stage of my life I was also promoted to a Staff Captain a rank which in England and USA is not used. Nevertheless, the next step was the Major and I have thus entered into a higher echelon of officer’s establishment. Were it not for increasingly anti-RAF atmosphere I would have been the luckiest man alive. Being rather naive politically and not reading any Czech newspapers I thought that all this unpleasant atmosphere is only a passing stage and that after another 20 years I would happily retire as a Colonel. But the matters were not to stand still and I was posted without any reason to Brno airbase – further South in Moravia and 50 miles from my wife and John in Olomouc. The posting was against the wishes of my C.O. and it probably began a new stage in increasing chicanery against all the RAF personnel. So into Brno I flew as another instructor, but before I end the Olomouc saga I must tell you what happened to Zima the hero of Battle of Britain days. After the Russians occupied Czechoslovakia in August 1968, he with an enormous courage wrote a letter to the ‘Great Ambassador of USSR’ as follows:
AS A PROTEST AGAINST THE OCCUPATION OF MY HOMELAND BY THE RED ARMY I AM RETURNING HEREWITH YOUR MEDALS AWARDED. FOR VICTORY AGAINST GERMANY IN GREAT PATRIOTIC WAR. THIS MEDAL WAS GIVEN TO ME PERSONALLY BY THE REPRESENTATIVE OF THE SOVIET PRESIDIUM.
This certainly required some guts and the Communist Masters gradually depending more and more on Soviet ‘guidance in introducing the Communist System’ must have been absolutely speechless. No other pilot from the Czechoslovak RAF had acted similarly.
I began my job once more on a different airbase, much larger and with more ex RAF Staff, but my Commanding Officer (no longer ex RAF) barely glanced in my presence on the reports of the pupil pilots, but placed my report which always required a discussion on to the pending file and curtly dismissed me. By this time, between you and me the situation became quite alarming, because as a fellow officer he behaved atrociously. But worse was to come!
I landed one afternoon and was changing the pupil, when a message arrived, that I was to report to Flying Control immediately. During the walk to the Control, I met my former Commanding Officer of 313 Czech squadron in England, Otmar Kučera, who had the same message. Otmar declared, that he ‘smelled a rat’ and did not like this idea of reporting during working busy schedule, as if this was the Nazi Germany i.e. totalitarian system. No doubt this began to look like it!
When we entered the ‘Inquisition room’ we saw a pompous General Hanuš, full of medals and most certainly NOT an RAF airman. He began shouting at me, asking for my name etc. completely forgetting that as a brother officer, he was not allowed to do so, except of course in a Dictatorship. I was so indignant that this officer, who stayed in his homeland without lifting a finger during the Nazi occupation dared to question an RAF man, so impudently. I also then began shouting my replies and I stated with much raised voice that “I would like to know why was I brought here at all”! He replied by addressing all present, as this was on a stage, that “You will hear later, why you are here”. As soon as my group of RAF pilots left the room, we were encircled by guards and taken to a Dakota aircraft. We began to worry now during the flight, where we were being taken, but landed in Prague Kbely airbase. Without much ceremony, we were pushed into awaiting trucks and were taken to a Military Prison in Prague. We amounted to about 10 of us RAF and all equally worried when we will not return home. Everyone was pushed into a single cell and was given a piece of dry bread as it is done in every dictatorship. It is to intimidate you, so that you would be more ready ‘to sing’ the next day. In my case it failed, because I found a mice nest in in my pillow and by throwing the bread on the floor, I had some peace. Naturally I began to think of Zdeňka and John and to think that I was fighting for my country and found myself now in such undignified situation made me absolutely furious. But remember I was only one of ten and soon heard Morse Code signals being tapped on the central heating pipes.
Our navigation training in the RAF was now used and we wanted to find out whether one of our group perhaps knew what this detention was about? What I think, we should have done, was to use the English language and that would confuse our jailers, who obviously were listening to us. This was confirmed by our soldier cleaner in the morning, who was locked up, because he declared that President Gotwald was an idiot. Later in the morning after a water coffee and dry bread we were taken one by one to an inquisition room – what else you could call it? There were two sitting officers in mufti and behind a flimsy partition there must have been others. Another man arrived later whom I knew was an RAF airman, but a dedicated Ground Staff Communist. His name was (F/Lt) Vincenc Kocman, ex-311 Sqn, who was already awarded as an RAF traitor the ‘Order of White Lion’ by President Gotwald for duties such as these. He was an adventurer as well and with the Czech Communist Party section was serving in Spain and whilst in French Concentration Camp, where 450,00 ex Republicans were held after their escape from Franco, he obviously managed to join the Czech Army Depot at Agde and finally reached England where he was ordered to join RAF. This man, this renegade, was now present and the ‘inquisition’ began by asking whether I knew Flying Officer Ivo Tonder. I replied that of course he was flying in the Czech Wing and I knew him by sight only like many others. This carried on for some time, with no results from me; so they began indignantly and more strongly asking me other stupid questions which could I could not answer, because I knew nothing about anything. I usually keep my own company to a large extent and I was only stating the truth. They became by this time abusive, since nothing was discovered in case of Palička and finally the Chairman rose and declared ”THAT I WAS A SPY FOR FOREIGN POWER IMPERIALIST” and as loud as he was shouting – so was I declaring “THAT I AM NOT!”
I must add here in all fairness, that for whatever reason, the ex-RAF Kocman never insisted by whispering into interviewing officers that there was anything substantial against me, and to my surprise I was allowed to leave. (Ivo Tonder I heard later got 8-10 years of hard labour). The hearings like ours were carried whenever the ex RAF personnel was serving. The Communists had at all costs to find ANYONE who was in England and charge him with espionage so that the press in their hands could justify the frequent prison sentence for another traitor found in RAF!
It was pretty clear to us, that President Beneš had no longer any influence and was very ill. The Communist propaganda began confusing tirade, that it was the Western Powers who abandoned us at Munich time, whilst the USSR remained faithful! IN FACT NOBODY HELP US FROM ANYWHERE, but the Commies continued to denigrate the efforts of Great Britain in 1940 to defeat Luftwaffe entirely alone. Later with the help of the USA the Nazis were finished.
We, who lived abroad and read the English Press, could well visualise what this Communist Freedom would bring! Barbed wire frontier – Censored Press and Radio-all this to stop the Czechoslovak populace learning how fast after the 1945 the living standards of all nations in Europe continued to rise! We have also learned in Prague after our release from Prison (THIS TIME) that all our friends who brought their English wives and children were in trouble. The Czechoslovak Communist Government insisted that by marrying a Czechoslovak Subject they became Czechoslovak themselves. This was refused by the British Embassy, because the British Law permitted a dual nationality. The pressure was brought on Czechoslovaks more heavily threatening some import of British raw materials and the Commies finally gave in. In retrospect as an ordinary man I always thought that the Benes deposit of Gold originally from USA should have stopped all the arguments. This gold England stopped as retribution for the ghastly Communist Dictatorship and was only returned a few years ago, but only after the compensation for confiscated property was paid to all Czechoslovak citizens abroad. Anyway according to a widow of a fighter pilot of 310 squadron living in Brno, Mrs Trejtnar, that 25 Englishwomen insisted to remain in Czechoslovakia. The remainder returned there and then! Many marriages between the English wives and Czechoslovak husbands in prison collapsed.
During our return journey to Brno, I decided in a confidential talk with Otmar Kučera to share his fears that eventually we shall all be imprisoned or deprived of our livelihood in the Czechoslovak Air Force. Even in Prague whilst travelling in tram, we knew we were followed, and this will increase. We both thought that perhaps we shall have to leave our homeland once more to escape a very dark future. Further details will have to be worked out.
I finally reached our flat in Olomouc and found Zdeňka and John in perfect health. Zdeňka learned about my detention, but now that I returned it was the end of the matter. I had to tell her that my flying career was over but I did not divulge any plans of my escape abroad. There were two lives now at stake and I restrained myself from saying anything at all. Thus she never knew anything.
Every evening I took a walk by the officer’s block and was able to see (F/Lt) Vojtěch ‘Vojta’ Smolík who was gardening. Also (Sgt) Jindřich Horský, former 310 Sqn pilot. Vojta Smolík ended his flying career as a Commanding Officer of another elementary flying school and he was in fact considering the escape himself. When I told him my intention, he was very pleased, because he began to look for another two RAF airmen to vanish from this paradise. Our problem was, to find somebody who would guide us across the German Frontier.
Obviously, a local man and how would one start looking in the middle of Moravia? I heard from Kučera that owing to his stomach ulcers, he decided to stay at home at present. Having now found Smolík my spirits rose and I played quite happily with John and was very attentive and talkative. Zdeňka must have been surprised at my rather unusual behavior but I began to treasure these last days before my disappearance, before we ‘Meet again!’
In my own country having to arrange all this in order to live a deserved peace within the family, is a matter I CAN NEVER FORGIVE MY CZECH COUNTRYMEN AND WILL REMAIN EMBITTERED FOR EVER.
The third evening when I evaded my Communist ‘guard’ [we were watched all the time] I found Vojta Smolík who said that his former adjutant pilot Horský had a connection in Prague regarding a dependable and more expensive guide. All this had to be arranged through a third party and was very dangerous. I was told two years later how our General Janoušek who took such a care of us in England was ‘guided’ across the Czechoslovak frontier and condemned to death by the Communist Masters – later that was reduced to ten years in the Uranium mines.
And afterwards he died, what else? To live in a country which thought so little of him? Unfortunately for Horský, he had a stomach operation and was not quite ready for an arduous journey through some wild countryside, possibly streams etc. which we assumed such circumstances will demand. After several more meetings with Vojta it was decided, that our journey should take place on 1st May.
The reason was simple! It was customary for large celebration in Prague and a lot of people would be travelling in all directions, therefore the usually vigilance of Police would be reduced on account of so many travellers.
Escape to the Western Free World:
That morning, very early in May the first I woke up after a sleepless night watching the alarm clock carefully and managed not to disturb either Zdeňka or John. You can imagine how I felt, when finally, I peeped later into the bedroom and saw both asleep. Naturally my caretaker must have heard me, and obviously he had to report anything untoward about that RAF man Palička. He surprised me, by saying “I know you are a decent man and what do you suggest I say to the secret police”? I told him to say that I was going to Prague for the May Celebrations and left this Communist serf thinking it over. When I reached the Olomouc railway station I bought a single ticket to Prague and never stopped at a platform. When I finally stopped and rested against a lamp post-suddenly someone tapped my shoulder. At that frightening moment I was only thinking, how could anybody not knowing anything, betray me?
But it was my father, which was another surprise. What was he doing in Olomouc, so far away from Northern Bohemia? He saw my pale face and quickly re-assured me that everything at home was alright, but he had to come and inform me that a lot of my RAF friends were taken into custody for questioning and some already sentenced for trumped charge of spying. He was very pleased that I also was detained in Prague for questioning, but after few days left alone. I obviously wanted to reassure him, that they would not bother me anymore, and he seemed to believe it.
I NEVER SAW MY FATHER ALIVE AFTER THIS INTERLUDE THANKS TO THE COMMUNIST REGIME.
I arrived in Prague and looked for Vojta and Horský in the Wilson Railway Station buffet. We were quite depressed how enthusiastic our countrymen were with coming celebration and parade in front the President [murderer who signed 187 warrants od execution] Clement Gotwald. We soon found the café and met our guide. He was only about 26 and was doing this either for money or helping the RAF – WHO KNOWS??
He told us to proceed by train to Plzeň and there to change to another train to Domažlice. We separated at once and sat in differert carriages until we reached the Plzeň Station. The problem arose in Plzeň because the train arrived far too early i.e. after midnight and our Domažlice train departure was scheduled at 7 o’clock morning time. In other words we had to waste almost 7 hours in a relatively contained railway station. In order of not attracting the police attention [including the secret police now being introduced on railway stations] we decides to split and never even look at each other’s direction WHATEVER HAPPENS! After some snacks and drink in a buffet kiosk (to waste as much time as possible) we reached the Main Waiting Room of Plzeň Station. Very soon after we sat down, we saw uniformed police taking a man of 55-60 for questioning. He was not well dressed, so we did not worry. Time stood still – as they say – but not for Vladimír Palička, because towards my seat marched a drunkard barely on his legs and DEMANDED a cigarette. As I never smoked in my life (and desperately wish now, that I did) and you can never argue with a drunk person in any case. But to my horror he began shouting: “I know you are escaping abroad” and it was obvious I had to find Vojta, who is a smoker; so I ran across the waiting room – found Vojta – asked for cigarettes packet and ran back to my place.
To my great surprise the man had vanished. The remainder of time until the near departure – I firmly believe – must have, aged me. That is why I remember this so vividly after 42 years! At long last the Domažlice train arrived and we went to different carriages automatically. Communists now began to divide the whole country into an ordinary Zone and Frontier Zone. At this time as yet, this was not a standing order, otherwise this could not be planned at all.
Nevertheless, here, there will be secret police [StB – Státní bezpečnost, the state secret police] in evidence even a railway man in overalls must be suspected. We reached Domažlice without any incidents, but were in a terribly nervous condition, as soon as we descended on the platform, because we seem to have imagined that almost every other person knew what we were up to, and would soon arrest us. Our nervous state was a result of long planning; the sense of injustice that this step was necessary at all; and finally the time of further danger of actual crossing was now approaching!
I did not see anything of my compatriots now, but to my horror saw about twenty yards from the final barrier emerging a group of policemen, their eyes everywhere. My heart must have stopped for a moment I think, but a miracle occurred, because by the glance of my left eye I saw a grandmother carrying a heavy suitcase, whilst chattering to two grandchildren. My sang-froid [and indeed it cannot be described in English] returned at once and I calmly took over the suitcase from this lady as if she was my relation arriving – or as if I was just arriving with her!
I – also my friends – began to think there is somebody above us?? What else???
Outside the station I found my friends, who were becoming restless since I was rather late in arriving. I never said anything about this until now – so you know now! The guide now gave us further instructions and that was to walk by the side of this road towards the black forest ahead and that he will meet us after we reached it.
So we began our march, hoping that nothing more untoward will happen anymore, and in fact we entered this forest in semi-darkness as in many of our homeland forests are so thick, that the semi-darkness is accepted as normal. You will not hear any more about homeland as quoted above any more, because it is no longer so for me, or ever will be!!!!
Our guide now appeared from behind a tree and was to earn his fee from now on. Our friend Horský seems to have been rather out of breath, although to my reckoning we have not even started towards our goal.
Leaving Communist Czechoslovakia:
After about half an hour, as we progressed more deeply into the forest, we began to notice here and there, abandoned articles of clothing and other domestic belongings, which because of their weight, were discarded by our previous travellers. Obviously, we were on the right way to the frontier crossing. This route we also noticed, was completely devoid of any Czechoslovak Police or Field Gendarmes and we were wondering, whether some will not suddenly appear. But our guide dismissed our fears as completely unfounded. We were now walking for some hours and gradually the environment of thicker undergrowth became denser and wilder and we were slowing down. At long last we reached a top of the hill facing a small valley and our guide stopped completely saying “On the other side, behind the Customs hut is the Free Federal Republic of Germany. Good-bye friend, and good luck”, he added and left us.
How ironic for the three of us, who only nine years were escaping from this lot to Poland, and were now considering our former foe our best friends. This time we thought bitterly, we were not running from the Nazis but from our own countrymen – our own flesh and blood.
Our last obstruction was therefore this Czechoslovak Customs wooden building and as the guide seem to be quite unconcerned, we were not convinced that should anybody see us, we would not be apprehended. We decided to by-pass the building further on the left where we saw parked some motorbikes. Vojta Smolík to our surprise took the revolve he carried somewhere and declared “that in case of someone trying to stop him, he would shoot his way through” Horský and I were surprises that Vojta carried a revolver all this way in the train, rather an unnecessary risk, whilst searched by the Czechoslovak police, they both thought (Later on in England, they heard that somebody used the same route and one Custom man volunteered to guide them across. As they saw the German side clearly, they thought that he was leading them to a trap and one airman shot him dead, just to make sure he did not do anything of the sort.
We checked our watches time, and saw it was approaching noon. It seemed a longtime since we left the train at Domažlice, and we also realised that our countrymen would stop at that time for a lunch, whatever happened in the outside World. And so we just walked slowly 25 metres from the building and that was that! I am convinced, even now, that this was ‘OUR LUCK’ during the whole enterprise; I mean being in the right place at the right time! After passing the last, we assumed obstruction to our Freedom, we had to rest, because Horský’s wound with new stitches caused him a great discomfort. We were not any longer as nervous as beforehand and also it was a warm day at the beginning of Summer. After few minutes of further traveling, we stumbled on the wooden sign in ground ‘FREI STAAT BAYERN’ In other words, we were in Bavaria for crazy Bavarians always so proud, but for us we were in the American Zone of Germany. We stopped here completely and read the sign several times over, because now The Czech Communist Organs of any description COULD NOT TOUCH US.
GOODBY A COUNTRY OF OUR FOREFATHERS WHOSE PRESENT INHABITANTS ABANDONED US.
Return to the Royal Air Force:
Walking on the German soil, was a revelation itself and we were by now completely relaxed. After five minutes on a path we were astonished to see a sign – home-made – nailed to the tree ‘Czechs this way’. After another five minutes at long last an open countryside welcomed us and a small Bavarian village. What surprised us most was, that there was not a German Customs Hut or any uniform to be seen. For that we had to walk to a small Polizei house. Inside we were welcomed by the Inspector, who was not surprised to see Czechoslovaks persons inside his office. His English was not very good, but that was his problem. He wrote down in longhand our names and the RAF ranks to be telephoned somewhere, so his English was sufficient enough for this purpose. He acted very friendly and it is also easy to speculate why, because nearby, where the Austrian border laid the Russian Zone of Austria began, and very soon the stories of Russian dirty soldiers, ancient equipment and a complete lack of European customary discipline amongst soldiers caused an unfavourable reaction.
After a lot of coffee and some ‘kuchen’ cakes the junior Constable brought three railway warrants to a small refugee camp for Czechoslovak refugees. I was offended to even hear the word, but obviously the military authorities when discovering our whereabouts will move us to an appropriate RAF station. We reached the refugee clean camp later. lt was near Munich and food was good. The first meal since WHEN? The original telephone report somewhere produced the next day American (what is called now CIA) officials.
You will realise that we were in the American Occupation Zone of Germany and such, they as were responsible, the interview was thorough including our reason for escape, our occupation, our ranks in RAF, the length of service and finally a route of escape. The American officer would not allow us as brother officers to stay in a civilian refugee camp and gave us not only a railway warrant to Munich, but also vouchers for 7 days in a Munich Hotel. Now that we were safe, I began to think about my wife and obviously this is going to be with me as long, as we are separated.! was certain that as I never said anything, she could not say anything either about my intention to escape or a route taken etc. But depressed I was, but Vojta a Horský did not seem to affected to such an effect and told me to look forward to. a better future.
After we spent a very pleasant period of time in Munich with the compliments of the USA government, but the future was not quite so rosy because the RAF authorities were not yet informed and we were sent to a Military Czechoslovak Refugee Camp, at Eichstätt – Jägerkaserne, under a command of a certain Czechoslovak Major Bruner who considered us not his especial problem and the time to sort us out did not concerned him. We were of course not very pleased and in addition were a little worried, because in such places there would have been a Commie planted to gather an interesting” ‘information’ in which category we could easily fall. So we telephoned-with difficulty-to the British Military Mission, without of course Bruners knowledge. The usual Civil Service in ‘other words the government institution of any sort, took the long three weeks before at long last they sent us to an RAF Transit Camp which to our fury was not so far from here. We stayed there with the familiar British service tradition and at long last the order to fly us to the United Kingdom arrived.
SOON I WAS GOING TO LAND IN A COUNTRY WELL-KNOWN TO ME AND HOPEFULLY SHE WILL WELCOME ME ONCE MORE.
Mr Churchill, now no longer in power, when he heard that the Czech RAF pilots were persecuted and are returning to England had appealed at once to the Air Ministry and the Secretary for Air to admit these to their previous ranks and duties. lt is entirely due to him that hundreds of Czech RAF officers who returned continued their service within the RAF until their retirement at the age of 55.
I was one of those who took up his offer initially but quite a few decided after their reunions with the wives who finally reached the United Kingdom Shores to emigrate to British Colonies, United States of America and Canada.
