On the night of January 12th I was at the television programming management office. That night, like the other nights, there were a lot of calls about tanks moving around the city. Suddenly we got news that a large column of tanks was approaching. We decided to continue broadcasting the program until we were forced to leave... But soldiers hadn't even reached the main apparatus room when the transmitters were switched off. The lights in the apparatus room went out. There weren't any windows in the apparatus room so we couldn't see what was going on behind the walls. We could only hear gun fire, doors being kicked in, and screaming. A soldier broke in, and in Russian, ordered us to raise our hands. Then everyone was ordered to file into the hall. Soldiers were lined up on both sides of the corridor. An officer kept running to the front and ordering us to stop. Then he ran downstairs. In a few minutes he returned, shouting „Ubili naševo! Cholodnovo ubili. Svoloči!"(„They killed one of ours! They killed Cholodnov. Bastards!") Then he ordered us to go forward again. We went downstairs to the first floor. Again we heard the command to stop. As we got closer to the exit, the officer walking next to us kept repeating: „Vidite, my ne zveri, my vas ne trogajem, idite, idite posmotretj, što vaši nadelali!" („You see, we're not beasts, we're not touching you, go and see what your people did!") Going up to the door of the cafe, I saw a person lying on a table with his legs pointed to the door. It was dim in the cafe. I didn't see his face, but it occurred to me that he was laid very neatly. I thought: who had laid him down so carefully in the midst of such turmoil? So carefully that it was unnatural. I made the sign of the cross over the dead body and returned to the corridor.

Lithuania, 1991.01.13 :