The events were unexpected for us. L. Misevičienė, an English teacher at the Pedagogical Institute, E. Misevičius, a mathematician at Vilnius University, and I were in a comparatively safe place - at the foot of the television tower slope on the north side. It's true that people were falling down there, not from series of gun fire but from iron sticks and kicks from the boots of soldiers. However, I'd first like to tell about those nighttime hours and minutes of waiting.
It's still only nine o'clock at night... Even though the temperature is at about 0, the air is biting and the humidity chills you to the bone. Now and then you can feel a light drizzle of rain. Teenagers are warming up by bonfires which are blazing on the slopes of the hill. We are circling the tower. Songs are heard all over. A group of elderly people, men and women, are singing the Lithuanian folk song „Ant kalno mūrai...". A few steps away, our ears catch „0 žirge, žirge", and a bit farther you can hear „Palinko liepa..."
The time is slowly nearing out. It's still just ten o'clock. Lots of young people are here tonight - students from the University and pupils from the senior classes. In order to keep warm and pass the time, they energetically stamp their feet to the rhythm of dances... The clock reads only 11 o'clock... People are attentive and kind to one another. Someone drops their glove, and right away several people go to pick it up. A stranger wants to treat us to sandwiches, and it seems that she is upset that we declined her offer. A man stretches his arm out to us – he wants some coffee. The night is such a long one. It's still only twelve o'clock... Our eyes follow an old man with a moustache. Like a ploughman with a scythe, he carries a huge Lithuanian flag on his shoulder. An old woman is trying to persuade a boy of 7 or 8, probably her grandson, to go home. But the boy, almost in tears, cries: „l don't want to sleep!"
I get into a conversation with a man from Alytus. This was already his second night here, and he seems really tired. A thought flashes in my head: „When I go home, I'll have to invite him to spend the night". Earlier, such a thought - never would have crossed my mind.
As one o'clock approaches, we start getting a bad feeling: through the big windows you can see guards beginning to move about inside the tower. Some were getting ready with their sticks, other were picking up water hoses similar to the kind that people use to water their gardens in summer. I have a presentment in my heart. Over the loudspeaker we hear that tanks are coming towards Karoliniškės.
Closely, shoulder to shoulder, we stand around the tower. In our area there are 5 rows. Near us is a family from Kaunas - the stout head of the family, his frightened wife, his teenager daughter, and one more woman, who is the girl's aunt. Somewhere below, not far away at all, we hear the firing of a rifle. „Neringa, where are you?" - screams the woman standing next to us. „Be quiet! You know why you came here!" - orders the stout man. We chant: “Fascists! Fascists!" Then: ”Lithuania! Lithuania! Lithuania!"
The clock reads 1:20 a.m. as a huge tank emerges from the darkness and aims its searchlights at us. Someone shouts: „Open your mouths!" At almost that exact moment the tank fires. The noise is terrible. Then comes a strong wave. Soldiers are throwing something at the legs of the people in front. An explosion! A scream. People jump aside, but they don't leave the tower. The paratroopers are pushing us aside using machine gun butts and iron sticks in their „work". I feel a blow to my head. I fall to my knees. Yet the strong kick of a boot makes me stand up again. Glass is falling from the windows. The paratroopers are already inside the tower. One blond protector, still almost a child, presses an out¬stretched hose forward with both hands. It seems like he is in shock and doesn't even notice where he is aiming the hose. I move aside and hear the voice of Juozas Jarmalavičius:… Lithuanian Brothers... You are deceived... go home. The National Salvation Committee". Only now do I notice that there is blood on the hand that I'm pressing my head with...
Lithuania, 1991.01.13 : documents, testimonies, comments. - Vilnius : State Publishing Center, 1992, p. 121-122.