Contemporary Witness Statement Jan Zaborsky

pp. 303 – 314 Memories of Ján Záborský p. 303: "There is a boy in the Záborský family" Fifteen kilometers east of the town of Levice, in a valley beneath the Štiavnické Mountains, lies a small village with 500 inhabitants – Brhlovce. Here lives a poor blacksmith and at the same time a farmer named Záborský. During a cold winter, on January 8, 1927, a long-awaited boy, Jan, was finally born. His 4-year-old sister Julia was also very happy about Jan. His father knew his place and was the right hand of the honored leader of the local communists, Jozef Kolár. Jan enjoyed his childhood freely because his parents were very busy with work, so his sister Julka looked after him. After finishing the local elementary school, he attended the nearby district school in Bátovce. He mostly walked there and back. While still in school, he – probably unconsciously – served the communist party by delivering letters from the chairman of the party in Brhlovce to Bátovce, or from communists in Bátovce to Kolár in Brhlovce. Now we give the floor solely to Jan Záborský, who today has been serving for many years as chairman of the MNV in Brhlovce and simultaneously as chairman of the OV SZPB in Levice. pp. 303/304: The boy Ján and Ladislav Exnár After finishing the district school, there was no money left for further studies, so I had to find a job. I was a brave boy and wanted to find a good job for myself. "So if you want, I’ll go to Štiavnica and try to find a job there," my father recommended to me. pp. 304 – 305: I agreed with my father’s suggestion. Because we had no secrets from our neighbor Kolár, I immediately received a task from him: a confidential file /the KSS had already been banned for a few years at that time, it was 1942/ for a workshop owner in Banská Štiavnica, who was probably also a member and official of the illegal state organization. I left the house early in the morning but only arrived in Štiavnica in the evening. When I was already in Štefultovo, I took a short break to gather courage before looking for the workshop in Štiavnica. While sitting on a bench there, a man came up to me who seemed very familiar. I had definitely seen him before in Brhlovce and I think he was with our neighbor Kolár. He sought my trust, so I told him everything he asked: that I am the son of Záborský from Brhlovce, that I want to find work here, and also that I have a delivery from our neighbor Kolár for the workshop owner. Then he introduced himself. "My boy, I have already been to your father, we also met with Mr. Kolár at the workshop. I am Exnár. I have seen you and you have seen me, but now I have a mustache and sideburns, so you didn’t recognize me. The police are after me, so I now have a different name. I am called Luptak and as you can see from my suit, I am a forester." This chance meeting with Mr. Exnár pleased me greatly. Only now did I remember that the files were actually for Mr. Exnár. /"...but you wouldn’t find him because he is in hiding, the files will be brought to him by the workshop owner..."/ Then I thought that Mr. Exnár might also find work for me, maybe even in the workshop. By then it was already dark and cold. "It makes no sense to go to Štiavnica now because the workshop is already closed and who knows where the owner Daninger is," Exnár said. Ultimately, the letter is for me – give it to me and come with me. Here in Štefultovo I have my work and you can stay overnight with my acquaintance. In the morning you can go home. I will try to get you a job, even though it is difficult at the moment, Exnár offered. I will inform you about Kolár. Thus began my cooperation with Exnár. Exnár then did not find work for me, a 15-year-old boy from the village, in Štiavnica. Ultimately, my father found me work at a quarry near Bátovce. The quarry belonged to Mayor Homola. As an immature boy, I boasted among my friends that I had contacts with communists and even received a revolver from them /where would I have gotten a weapon otherwise/, from which I fired during a festival. Probably someone informed on me because once in spring 1943 I was searched for by the police at a festival. I knew it was certainly about the weapon and secretly gave the revolver to my friend. The police searched me but found nothing. When asked about my communist contacts, I responded boldly and denied it. This time I was lucky. A serious incident occurred in autumn 1943 when my friends and I were accused of illegal leaflet distribution, which was based on evidence. The leaflets were brought by a midwife Vágnerová from Hungary. She was allowed to cross the border freely because she also worked as a midwife in a village in Hungary. In this case, the fact that I worked for the government commissioner helped me. He told the police that "... my employee Ján has nothing to do with this..." and I was released the same day. Because I was also suspected due to letter deliveries, a financial surveillance group also followed me. They searched me several times but fortunately found nothing.p. 306: In the second half of March 1944, I received an important task from Kolár, who was acting as the chairman of the illegal organization. “Jan, take the axe and a basket and go into the forest towards Žemberovce. There you will start working. Exnár was supposed to come from Žemberovce, but someone tipped us off and the police are already waiting for him somewhere on the way. You will wait until it gets dark and then come here. But not to my house, because it is under surveillance. You will come from behind. We will all meet then at the back of your father’s workshop.” I had not yet started working when Exnár was already there. I was very happy when he said that I was a brave boy and that I could even already be a partisan. We then hid and spent a few hours there together. I received my first political training, which significantly influenced my future life. In my father’s workshop, Exnár had a long meeting. The next day, Exnár had other duties and had to leave us again, but the policemen were still in the village. Then, with the help of Julia, he managed to escape. My sister Julia was already 20 years old. She took the manure out of the village in a cart. They first laid clean straw in the cart, Exnár lay down there, then they put a blanket over him and finally a lot of straw with dry manure. Then the brave Julia took Mr. Exnár away from the village in the cart. pp. 306 – 307: How Ján became a partisan In August 1944, my father sent me to help Mr. Korbela. He was a friend of my father, a communist, and also a collaborator of Ladislav Exnár. Late in the evening, two Russians, fugitives from a concentration camp in Austria, arrived at Mr. Korbela’s. They had a letter of recommendation from an illegal collaborator. After Korbela read the letter, he spoke at length with the fugitives (he could speak Russian because he had learned the language during the First World War when he was in a Russian prison) and then he turned to me: “Ján, these Russian brothers want to meet the partisans in the mountains. They would not manage alone because they do not speak Slovak. On the way, they could be caught by the Germans or our fascists. I cannot leave the house now, but you can. You will bring them to the village of Sklabina near Martin. Here, you have a letter for our local collaborator. If you are in public with others, you speak and our Russian friends remain silent. Here you also have two hundred crowns – that will be enough for the journey. I will tell your father where you are, don’t worry!” Early in the morning, Mr. Korbela woke us up. His wife prepared food for the journey and when the sun had risen, we had already been on the way for a few hours towards Banská Štiavnica. Then we took the train “Anna” to Hronská Dúbrava. Then, because of a detour caused by my inexperience, we traveled through Banská Bystrica to Martin. There, a railway employee directed us to Sklabina. We arrived there in the evening and were happy that no one checked us. In Sklabina, we first took a break. There I learned where the person lived to whom I was supposed to bring Korbela’s guests. They welcomed us warmly. They cooked dinner for us and prepared a place to sleep. When I got up in the morning, the Russians were already gone. The partisan commander picked them up while you were still sleeping, I was told. But I no longer wanted to go home; I wanted to stay here. I must become a partisan! Mr. Exnár also told me so! For a few days, I just wandered around the village – until Sunday, August 21, 1944. pp. 307/308: That Sunday was an important day in Sklabina. Czechoslovak flags were hung on the houses and the local revolutionary national committee celebrated the renewal of the Czechoslovak Republic. The village was full of soldiers from Martin and partisans from the mountains. p. 308: Some commanders assigned the young people and men to military or partisan units. I also volunteered – of course with the partisans. I was among the youngest because I was only 17 years old. I was assigned to the partisan unit of Captain Jozef Pristach. With this unit, I then moved to the Spanná valley, where our staff was. There we received military uniforms and completed military training so that we could learn to fight and use weapons. Of course, we also received political training so that we knew what we were fighting for. In September 1944, we undertook several attacks against the Germans. One of the biggest attacks was against a German motorized column near Vrútky and a few others in the surroundings of the town of Martin, which was already occupied by the German fascists at that time. After the uprising in the mountains was suppressed, we often changed our positions. There we built various hideouts for ourselves; the last time it was in the Jelenske mountains. On November 11, 1944, when entering the village of Balaze, I was slightly injured by a mine on my leg. Immediately afterwards, our group of 10 people was arrested by the Germans and taken to Banská Bystrica in a gymnasium building. Many prisoners were already in this building.pp. 308 – 309: Into the Concentration Camp In the building with at least 100 prisoners, the Germans individually interrogated the men, and if someone belonged to the partisans, he was allegedly shot. Although I was wearing the military uniform, no one would believe that I was already a soldier because I was only 17. It had just gotten dark, and I decided on a radical step—I had to escape now! I asked a guard if I could go to the toilet. We were on the first floor, and the toilet had a narrow window. I succeeded and jumped out the window onto a wooden roof. It was probably very old and rotten because suddenly I fell through the roof below. Fortunately, nothing happened to me. I found myself in a wooden shed, but it was locked. Should I break down the door? They would surely hear me and catch and shoot me again. Then suddenly a woman arrived to collect some wood. I didn’t wait any longer and ran away immediately. I ran out of the town as fast as possible. Later, near the town of Radvaň, I reached several men who had also escaped like me. I recognized one of them. It was an acquaintance, Krnač from Brhlovce. We continued walking home together. We headed in the direction of Zvolen because Krnáč had family there. Unfortunately, we were not so lucky on the way, and near Budča we were caught again by the Germans. This time they took us to a kindergarten where other prisoners were already held. We didn’t stay there long because the building was not guarded, so we escaped through the window. After that, we visited Krnáč’s family. They were afraid to hide us, so they advised us on how to find the way home along the river. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out here. When we crossed to the other side over the destroyed bridge, the Germans caught us again. They then took us to Hronska Dúbrava and afterwards, along with other prisoners, to Štubianske Teplice. Here they put us in a wagon and sent us somewhere—we didn’t know where. When the train stopped in Bratislava, a railway worker advised us that if we had any courage, we should jump out of the train because they were taking us to a slaughterhouse! At these words, we immediately became very afraid, and some men jumped out of the train right away. Unfortunately, they were all shot immediately, and the other prisoners no longer had the courage to follow them. pp. 309/310: I remember that we traveled through Linz and then to Pilsen. Then to Germany through Weimar to a camp in Morzdorf, where presumably about 1,000 prisoners from Slovakia were already held. p. 310: Here I met a few countrymen (probably fellow villagers, M.B.): Veterani, Homola, Bielik, Jezik, and others. Each of us received a blouse with a KG mark and our own number. (KG – Prisoner of War) My number was 45,237. When we first showered, our valuables, our clothes, and even my shoes disappeared. I had to go barefoot, but later I found a slipper, which was better than nothing. Still, it was bad to walk in such shoes in November. After a few days, they transferred us to a camp in Kleidernbach. Here they housed us in a large hall of a factory. It was cold there, the windows were broken, there was a constant draft, few beds, so many people had to sleep on the cold floor. The aftereffects showed after just a few days. Many of us became so sick that we could no longer control our urine. The health condition of prisoners who were not physically strong worsened every day. Death became more frequent. pp. 310 – 311: Escape from one camp to another camp I felt worse every day, and it was clear to me that my life was at stake. In addition, a prisoner told me that they would shoot me immediately if they found out I was a partisan. Therefore, I decided to try to run away. We traveled every day by train to work at the airport. One time, when we arrived at Kleindembach, I hid behind a wagon and then immediately jumped into another train. It was completely dark, so no one saw me. I could finally breathe out when the train started moving, only that—at the same time—a German soldier entered. I hid at the very back, and because of the darkness, he could not see me. He stood on the stairs there and carried a submachine gun on his back. He looked out of the train. I could no longer wait for him to notice me and shoot me. I grabbed him from behind by the neck and squeezed him very hard. After a moment, I let him fall dead to the ground. Then my heart beat strongly for a few more minutes, and I felt very sick about what I had done and would normally never do. Such acts are made by war! The train continued all night and then the next day with short breaks. In the evening, I was already out of patience. I was cold, tired, thirsty, and hungry. At the next stop, I got off. Immediately afterward, the surveillance team arrested me and sent me to a camp. There I learned that I had made it by train to Cologne on the Rhine to a prisoner camp. It was in a town called Dujzdorf near the Rhine. Here I spent January and the first two weeks of February under somewhat less deadly conditions. The camp mostly held prisoners from France, fewer from England and Russia, and none from Slovakia. It was a more industrial region, so this area was bombed quite often. Occasionally, a bomb also hit our camp. Therefore, we ran between the buildings like small frightened mice. In such chaos, I met a Pole. After a few days, the evacuation of the camp began because the front was approaching. We, the prisoners and the German army, retreated when suddenly we were attacked by American bombers. In this chaos, everyone ran to the side, and the Pole and I jumped into the crater of a bomb. It was quite pleasant as we lay on the still warm ground after the explosion. We waited until the column had passed—then we were free again.pp. 311/312: From the liberating camp to the French army After a few hours of heavy fire and shooting, the first French tanks arrived. Fortunately, there was a man from Slovakia in the army who explained to the commander who we were and what we were doing there. Then they put us on the back of the tank and we drove on for quite a long time to pursue the fascist German army. Only when we reached a small town near the Belgian border did they take us to the French command. They treated us very well and after a few days they wrote a report with us. We also signed it, so I remember the date – it was February 27, 1945. p. 312: A week later they called us again and we had to sign something again. Immediately afterwards we had to put on the French uniform. They assigned us to the military unit that General de Gaulle had established in North Africa. There were many men from Morocco there, but the officers were exclusively French. Thus, I became a French soldier in the last 10 weeks of the war. During those days, my friend, the Pole, and I experienced many dangerous moments, in which we were very lucky. I was not injured at all, but the Pole was. He was shot in the leg and then taken to a Polish hospital. I never saw him again. Unfortunately, I did not record his address. I spent the last day of the war in a town called "Steton" – but I am not sure if the town is really called that. There were still many German SS units there who did not want to surrender even after the German capitulation. Even on May 15, we liquidated a unit in a forest. Many people died there for no reason and the prisoners still wanted to escape. There were really the stubborn fanatics of Hitler's fascism! p. 313: Finally peace Finally, we also experienced the moment of peaceful atmosphere. Everywhere you could hear singing, laughter, and music. The soldiers embraced each other and even peaceful Germans, danced, kissed, and simply had a good mood. In the peaceful atmosphere, I still had to spend a month among the French soldiers. Only after half a month in June was our unit discharged in a town. The command discharged some soldiers, especially the older ones, and we young and foreign soldiers still had to stay. There were young Frenchmen, Moroccans, and men from Eastern and Northern Europe. I was not at all satisfied with this because it was already a long time after the war and I was still not home. My parents surely thought I must be dead, like all those who had not yet returned home. I already wanted to go home but they did not allow me. I had to stay there another month. I met an officer there who happened to be from Czechoslovakia. Then I was sent back to my unit. I worked as a personal driver. At that time, no one cared that I did not have a driver's license. Later I learned that not far from the town where I was stationed, many people had already gathered. There were many people from the Czech Republic and Slovakia. I also knew some of them there, for example: Orovnický from Kozárovce, and Ondri3koi4 from Žemberovce. pp. 313-314: Return to the liberating homeland Only on July 15, 1945, did Czechoslovak officers arrive at the barracks. They discharged us from the army and we could finally go home. After that, I went alone to the barracks where people had gathered. When I arrived there, they were already preparing for the journey to Czechoslovakia. We drove with military vehicles to the train station. Then we took the train south towards the Swiss border. At Lake Constance, the American army picked us up from the French. We spent about 2 days here. It was very hot and so we also bathed in the lake. On the third day, the Americans prepared us for the journey and so we took the train again to Ulm – Passau – Linz. We could not travel further by train because the rails were destroyed. Therefore, we had to wait there for another day on a Hungarian ship. We spent the break bathing in the Danube. During this, I almost lost my life. A whirlpool pulled me under the water and I could no longer swim up. My life was saved by a man named Rudo from western Slovakia. The Hungarian ship took us to Melk, where the Russians picked us up. We stayed here a few days. We also visited the terrible fascist camp. It was already destroyed. Then we took the train to Vienna and from there we had to continue on foot because the railways were completely destroyed. It was about 100 kilometers to Bratislava. In Bratislava, we completed the formalities at the repatriation office and immediately received money for the journey home to Brhlovce. In conclusion, I want to say that it is an honor for me that the inhabitants of our village elected me to the leading position of our village so that we could transform our then very poor village into a rich socialist village through free work. /Processed by: Juraj Cervenak/