Header image
I decided to write about the life of my grandfather. He is not alive now, but his story from World War II is one of the most mentioned stories of our family. I heard it from my mother. This is my grandfather story:



”This story is very long, so I will start, when German armies repulsed our armies to wood: In the wood there were a lot of soldiers, partisans and also injured people. I was hitted by shrapnels to the right leg. After time we’ve come to Vrutky, a small Slovak town, where we were transported to Ruzomerok and Biely Potok by cargo truck. There were two officers and 36 soldiers in the crew. First truck was under command of active first lieutenant and I was the commander of the second truck. 600 metres from our guards were road barriers. When the first truck passed around the third, we heard a shout : „Stop! Hands up!“. There were German guards and Slovak guardsmen in dugouts near the road, together. Then the shoot-out began. The gun battle began. The crew of the first truck have surrended but our squad have flung down to dike. We tried to get into the forest with the help of natural barriers. They have murdered all of the soldiers except two men... It was a lance-corporal and I. We were injured either. We have reached Biely Potok under the hard conditions. In consequence we have joint colonel's Cerny unit.”