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Author: Josef Cermak (CzechFolks.com PLUS)

Frank Tesar celebrates his 95th birtday

Just a couple of years after the end of the second world war (in June 1947) the Kapoun couple in Brno (Czech Republic) received a letter that must have seemed a bit upsetting. It came from Aba in Nigeria, a place not many people in the former Czechoslovakia would be corresponding with at that time.

The letter begins politely and innocently: “First, I would like to ask you to forgive me for writing to you although you don’t know me.” That was the first sentence. Then, in the second sentence, a bomb: “But surely you already know from Svatava (their daughter), that we agreed that she would come to Africa to become my wife.” Then comes a deep thought: “Since I cannot ask you for the hand of your Miss Svatava in person, I take the liberty of asking you by using this unusual way, namely by letter.” (Not even Clark Gable in ‘Gone With The Wind’ would need to be ashamed of the next sentence): “It must certainly be very difficult for you to give your daughter to someone you don’t know” (The next few words grounded me) “and whom your daughter doesn’t personally know either.”

After this beginning, the remainder of the letter was largely sober: “You must certainly know that we corresponded before the war and after the war started to write again. We learned to know each other only through our letters and I believe, enough, to trust each other that we shall be happy. I am employed by British Bata Shoe Co.Ltd, in Tilbury, England, and my job here in Aba in Nigeria is to purchase, as well as produce rubber in our plantations and then export it, and in addition I am in charge of two stores. Because I work to a large extent on commission, my average monthly income comes to 100 pounds, which is about 20,000.00 Czechoslovak crowns. The living standard in Nigeria is a bit higher than at home, but even so, it’s not difficult to save one-half of my income. I promise you, that I will take good care of Svatava and will give her a peaceful, comfortable and most of all, happy life, which I myself long for. I hope that you will forgive me for writing this short, shy letter” (it doesn’t look particularly shy to me!) “and that you won’t make objections to our marriage.”

The signature is illegible but the perpetrator of the letter acknowledged his deed. His name? Frantisek (or also Frank or Franta) Tesar, whom I had the pleasure of visiting in his Toronto home two months prior to his 95th birthday (and left with a briefcase full of letters an other documents], which he will celebrate on December 2, 2009. The oldest letter is dated before the war (August 5, 1939). His author is our Frank Tesar and it is addressed to Dear Miss Svatava: “You will certainly be surprised to receive a letter from someone who doesn’t know you…I was asked to set up two new stores in north Nigeria and my new place of work is now in Kano. I live with with Mr. Neuman, who welcomed me with saying that a young lady would like to correspond with you. I was pleasantly surprised to find the first day after my arrival on my desk a card with my name on it. A greeting from home indeed. But from whom? Miss Svatava, a name so beautiful that it made me think about it. Fate - a force leading us our whole life without us knowing how it is toying with us. Was it a chance that you reeived from Mr. Neuman his photograph in which I was by a possibly happy coincidence included? You may find this letter and address strange - I don’t know you and you don’t know me, and yet something made me write this letter. I wouldn’t want you to take this letter too tragically, perhaps you may get a good laugh out of it and say to yourself, all right, now I will answer and perhaps you will find the most suitable way how to keep our friendly correspondence going. I would beg you, dear Miss, to write me what made you write to me or rather, to want to correspond with me…” (Unfortunately, I didn’t notice Miss Svatava’s reply).

Frank’s next letter (his then address was: St/Sgt. Frank Tesar, Czechoslovak Army Depot UNRA, Southend on Sea, England) is dated six years later (October 10,1945. It is not as selfconfident as the one dated August 8, 1939. If for no other reason, than probably bacause Frank had no idea what in the last six years could have happened with Svatava. And you don’t know what in those six years happened to Frank. Quite frankly, you don’t even who this St/Sgt. FrankTesar was - and still is.

He was born on December 2, 1914 in Nedakonice, close to Uherske Hradiste. He apprenticed in what was called ‘colonial store’. In 1934 (he was twenty years old) Frank found a job in Bata shoe store in Prostejov. A year later he was transferred to Bata main store in Zlin.; a little later, he took over the ladies’ section and then what was called the American etage. He was also enrolled in the course of the Hindustani language, which made him think that he might be sent to India, but…On Monday, February 14, 1938 he was sent by his boss for an examination at the Zlin hospital and the next day invited to the office where they asked him if he had a passport and when he said no, he was advised that the company would take care of that and that on Sunday, February 20, (that is in four days), he would travel by the morning train (at 6:00 a.m) from Zlin to Africa (naturally, several times changing the mode of transportation)…and ‘get some information on Nigeria’. When he came home and told his mother that he would go by boat to Nigeria, his mother said: “But my God, where is that?” and …but let Frank tell it: “When I showed her Africa and Nigeria on the map, she wrung her hands and crossed herself.” Frank packed his things, arranged to have a few shorts and a light suit made at Nehera, and was in so much rush that he said goodbye to his brothers with a card from London. There was another person travelling by boat to Nigeria - a young lady who was going there to marry a Bata employee, but they didn’t travel by the same boat. Why wouldn’t they take the same boat? Frank’s explanation: “Bata tactics - neither of us spoke English. If we took the same boat, we would talk Czech. Going by different boats meant that we would be forced to learn at least some English. And learned it. These Bata guys were smart, they knew what they were doing (but we’ll leave that for another time).”

In Nigeria, Frank began his job in Lagos, and then he was sent to open a new store in the northern part of Nigeria, in Kano. And in October, 1940, joined the Czehoslovak army in England (but that, too, we’ll discuss some other time; for the purposes of this article, wars and other catastrophes simply serve to create atmospheric background for the romance between Svatava Kapounova and St/Sgt. Frank Tesar). I might just mention in passing that he went through parachutist course and then “they went jumping, first a few jumps from balloon and then from airplane”. Frank ended in Dunkerque where he was when the war ended. And we are back to his letter to Svatava dated October 10, 1945. Please, note, how carefully Frank begins his letter: “Dear Svatava, first I wish to apologize to your husband” (this apparently echoes Frank’s war experience - he is sending first his intelligence unit to have a quick look at the terrain) “as I assume that you are certainly married. Today, after many years, I went through my correspondence and found your letter and a photograph of three delightful Czech girls. I owe you a reply and that’s why I am starting with an apology to your husband” (isn’t he smoothing it out with the husband!) “…I wanted to write to you when I was home (after the end of the war Frank returned with the Czechoslovak army to Prague, where his boss, the director of Bata England invited him to breakfast- “old Mrs. Bata also joined them” - and briefly visited his home) unfortunately, I didn’t have your address, I found it only now, in England… It would please me to hear something nice from you, too. Don’t be surprised” (presumably by his writing to her), “since I did promise that I wouldn’t forget. Regards, Franta.” (But when she called him Franta (slightly disrespectful use of “Frank”} in her reply, he bristled.

In his next letter (dated November, 1945), calmed down that Svatava was still Miss, Frank began to open up: “I’ve got used to wandering around the world and maybe nothing else would please me. The world is too big and too beautiful, we mustn’t allow it to play with us, instead, we should play with it.” (He fell again on the top of the world, but only a little later - after a bit of self admiration that he didn’t get married as other soldiers - he writes: “And I don’t even know what kind of girl would want to marry me. I can’t even imagine her.” (This, I don’t believe. This is the hypocritical false male modesty, based on a hope that those who humble themselves will be raised).” I might have written to you years ago about how I looked. Don’t wish to see me now. A real catastrophe. It will be much better if I don’t write about it” (he just did). “Thirty years old “Frank”, that’s plenty.”

Those two then exchanged tens (perhaps hundreds) of letters. Their tenor was changing, growing tender. They began to call each other lovely names. Svatava had much more imagination: duckie, dear contrarian, beloved duckie, beloved lout, darling, my lily-of-the-valley,,, All Frank managed was: dear Svatus, dear Svatulinko.. And they wrote each other sweet words, until Frank asked Svatava’s parents for her hand in the letter this article starts with. Svatava’s father responded (on behalf of his wife as well) in a letter dated in Brno on June 8,1947:
Dear Mr. Tesar!

“I just received a letter from you for which I cordially thank you. You are asking me for the hand of my daughter. I know how hard it was for you to make a decision about something unknown, it isn’t easy for me either. My parents didn’t try to stop me, and I won’t try to stop you and Svatava.

I am giving my consent because I truly believe that you will fulfill your promise. It will be hard for us to part with Svatava, but there is no other way out….You will get Svatava, good, modest, educated and tidy. I wanted her to get a PhD but the German beast ruined it all.

Now we are asking God that it all ends well and to give you his blessing, so that both of you are happy.
Not much is needed for human happiness, most of all love and understanding. We will pray for your future happiness.”

Whether it was the prayers, or whether it was because they were two good and kind people, who fell for each other and all they wanted was to make each other happy, they did find happiness. In Nigeria, where they married in 1947, and later in Canada where they lived happily and brought up their two sons, Peter and Paul (how biblical) until April 2005, when Svatava’s “earthly visa” expired. And Frank, still upright as a soldier, smiling and friendly, still in good health (he occasionally has a bit of a hearing or some other problem), when he feels like crying, opens the file with the letters he and Svatava wrote each other and they are together again.

Original illustrations for CzechFolks.com © Miloslav Heřmánek