The Virtual Historian

Most had progressive ideas; some were socialists, some Zionists and some were Czech nationalists who hoped for restoration of aMasaryk-type Czechoslovakian republic after the war.To keep life meaningful, we were given talks by teachers.This was not really allowed, but no one bothered much to enforcethis rule. There were some older professors who would visit us andtalk about history, philosophy and math. Some of the boys werereally brilliant. I merely hopped along. During one English lesson,I was nicknamed Johnny — a name that stuck with me. From thenon, no one called me anything else.We played games, did our chores and were under strict discipline.We played chess, Sˇ prtec (table hockey), Twenty Questionsand sometimes we put on plays.We published a newsmagazine oncea week. It was written by Stern, the boy with the best handwriting. Inthe magazine were stories, poems, jokes and drawings. I, too, wrotefor the magazine and had several of my poems published.At certain times, we were allowed to leave the school,either to walk around or to visit our parents. Mother was often sick.Father was the doctor at the L417 school and I saw him often. Mybrother, Karel, was in another room at the school. On the days wewere allowed out of the school to explore the town, we would walkthrough the backyards of old houses. We could see people crowdedon floors everywhere. The big barracks, which were built twohundred years ago, had catacombs (narrow tunnels dug in theground). Although we were warned against it, we were daring andwalked down deep inside the tunnels. On the way back to ourhouse, we would walk past the infirmary where mental patientswere kept. The sight was awful: men and women were lying all overthe place, some screaming, others fighting and calling for help. Butthere was little help around.One day, with special permission, some of us boys fromRoom 9 were allowed to join a workforce to tend gardens on theoutskirts of Terezin.