Jiri Flosman
I was born near the small village of Mlynske Struhadlo in southern Bohemia on April 13, 1937, as the youngest of 3 sons in a family of millers. Flosman´s Mill had been in the family for generations and it was the life blood of the surrounding villages.
Under Nazi occupation, we lived in fear as they sold milled grain to the Czech people without inflating the price; in excess of Nazi grain quotas. The mill would open at night and sometimes run until 1 or 2 AM in order to avoid detection. Visited by the Gestapo more than once, we were resistors to their occupiers. A parade followed WWII to honour my father and my families’ patriotism.
Under Nazi occupation, we lived in fear as they sold milled grain to the Czech people without inflating the price; in excess of Nazi grain quotas. The mill would open at night and sometimes run until 1 or 2 AM in order to avoid detection.
But this hero who made no compromise and stayed true to his people, soon found himself under the shadow of suspicion. My parents were outspoken anti-communists and kulaks. In 1948, they became targets. The sight of cigarettes burning in the forest at night provided evidence they were being watched. To add to this danger, my uncle Josef Ševčík, brother of my mother, was member of the parliament and had arranged to hide a high ranking member of the Czech government. Flosman´s Mill was chosen as a safe house to hide the fleeing Minister Hubert Ripka. After death of Jan Masaryk, Ripka fled to Pilsen and then to our mill.
Although I dont not remember how long the Minister stayed, I remember very clearly the day that I found a ladder and put it up to the window, climbing to see into the room that I had been barred from entering. I was astonished to see three men smoking and playing cards. After the discovery, my parents had put the fear of God in me not to speak a word of this. Was it because of my discovery or because the French plane to rescue Minister Ripka was coming? Regardless, Ripka was moved to the nearby forests of Plánice to await rescue. Mother took him food, newspapers, flashlights and even my raincoat.
After the flight, these items were discovered and suspicion fell our family. Because the economy was nationalizing, repeated visits to the mill by the Communists increased. They visited in the same cars that I had remembered the Gestapo using.
After seeing the writing on the wall, and a tip off from a family friend, my father and the oldest brother constructed a false bottom on the company truck. In it they loaded their supplies and their passengers of family and friends and fled to the frontier.
After a dramatic escape that involved being stuck in the mud and an American patrol rescue, my family was processed and lived in a displaced persons camp in southern Germany. Here we waited and wrote and applied to countries to take as.
After over a year, we sailed for Canada. After three weeks of sea sickness on the SS Ballou, we made land in Nova Scotia and then a train for Ontario. After we fulfilled the work for our sponsors, we made a life for ourselves and started a farm in Carlisle, Ontario.
After a dramatic escape that involved being stuck in the mud and an American patrol rescue, my family was processed and lived in a displaced persons camp in southern Germany. Here we waited and wrote and applied to countries to take as.
In the early 1950s, I was given a special task. Hubert Ripka was to speak in Toronto and I was asked to be his driver. Upon entering the car Ripka’s first words were: “Ah, you must be curious George!” Who would say that I will meet this guy a few years later in a country several thousand kilometers from my home.
In 1972, I started a small welding shop. I recently retired after 46 years in business and at the young age of 80. Currently, I am exploring the new world of retirement with my wife Sandra.