He even managed to slip through back to his home several times and return unnoticed during the several periods when he had nothing else to do, but he once got caught and was imprisoned for some two weeks in a jail in Pardubice, before being sent back to Vienna.

But his stay in Vienna was not just potato salad and trips to the Prater. His hands are still scarred by frostbite as a memory of the severe winters of World War II and his memories of the guards are also not exactly happy ones. One day, during a heavy bombing raid, when there was no time to escape to the woods surrounding Vienna and everything seems to be exploding, he and two other Czechs, his co-workers and friends, hid under a horse wagon. A bomb splinter scratched the leg of one of them, causing a minor injury, but within a few days, the man died of blood poisoning... It seems a miracle to survive under a wooden horse wagon when the cellar ceiling of the Brauerei Liesing (the Liesing Brewery), almost 15 metres underground, caved in under the exploding bombs...

For my grandfather, the war in all its misery had at least a happy ending. The first day he heard artillery fire pounding the eastern outskirts of the city he escaped from the already half deserted compound, its guards already long gone, escaping in fear of Russian captivity. After almost
Emanuel Hemerka
My grandfather, who will turn 80 this year, is a retired railway worker and never took any part in armed resistance during the Second World War. However, I find it appropriate to mention his story on these pages, as his part in the conflict was as remarkable as the part played by anyone who lived and died during this war.

His name is Emanuel Hemerka and he was born in 1924 in the small east Bohemian town of Hermanuv Mestec. When the Second World War broke out, he was 15 and studied a municipal grammar school, from which he graduated in 1942. As any male aged 18, he was sent to work "for the victory of the Reich" at that time, it was the construction of the Sec dam power plant.

Before long, the location of his work place changed quite considerably. He was sent
My granddad in front of the Kunsthistorisches Museum.
to Vienna to work at the Wiener Leichtmetallfabrik, or the Vienna Light Metals Factory, located in the municipal district of Liesing. At that time, this factory specialized in light metal castings for aircraft engines, and my grandfather was given the job of taking care of the guard dogs of the Werkschutz, the factory security department. It was one of the better jobs he could have been given, though the memories are not very fond ones.

Yes, there are the good memories of his aunt, who married an Austrian and had lived with him in Vienna for some time already, his uncle, who did not know a single Czech word, and their communication, performed for the most part with the help of gestures and facial expressions. Also, my grandfather can still remember that one of their favourite pastimes was going to the Prater, the famous Vienna entertainment park, to enjoy potato salad, the sale of which was not limited by the food tickets.
sixty years, I had the pleasure of accompanying him on a weekend trip to Vienna, to see at least some of the places he knew from the wartime years. Almost everything has changed since then, just the giant ferroconcrete flak towers loom over some of Vienna's largest parks...

My grandfather's story may not be the best evidence of the fact that the Second World War was not just a war of great battles, generals and soldiers, but it is a testimony to that it was also a war where civilians had to live and survive.
The majestic Hofburg, from the window of which Hitler announced the "Anschluss" of Austria.