The bullets whizzed next to our heads as we lay there
Egon Urmann recalls a story of his mother from the time shortly after the war, when the German population was being expelled from the Šumava borderlands: “My mom told me that we didn’t have much property to carry across the border. However, she would help others to save their property. She would take a path from Žleb down to Horní and Dolní Cazov. She told me that many times they would lie hidden behind a rock, but the border guards were too afraid to let the dog out since they feared it might get shot. She said that they would often shoot at them, the bullets were whizzing next to their heads as they lay there... If the guards had known that it was only two frightened women, they’d have come out on them. They had nothing to shoot with but they were shooting at them like mad. My mom had a lot of stories like that. They’d for instance take a painting or a sewing machine across the border. She was taking quite a high risk. But she was at home there and she knew every stone. When it got dark, these guards had no chance.”
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