大象传媒

The following story appears courtesy of and with thanks to Marushka (Maria) and Zygmunt Skarbek-Kruszewski and George (Jurek) Zygmunt Skarbek.

The Horyn was running through widespread meadows. Here the Horyn was straight as an arrow, going right into the large disc of the setting sun. It was beautiful. The large trees on both banks were like a canopy, almost touching each other. Huge misshapen willows like old hags with dishevelled hair were washing their branches in the stream and their twisted roots drinking the water. The whitish reeds, rustling slightly in the light breeze, had an overpowering smell. Frightened frogs jumped with a loud splash into the river and flocks of wild ducks flew over the meadow looking for a good resting spot for the night.
The war, our worries and the objective of our journey were forgotten as we simply floated towards the sun on golden, placid waters.
That night we dossed down in a small cottage situated on a hill which seemed to guard the fords of the river from the side of the vast plain.
Our host was a Czech who, through some quirk of fate, had settled down in marshy Polesia. He spoke in a dialect of his own making - Czech, Polish and Ukrainian. He had forgotten part of his own Czechoslovakian, had never learned Polish properly and had to use the Ukrainian language. His wife was from Georgia, U.S.S.R.
We were very hungry so Marushka offered her nice multi-coloured scarf in exchange for milk, eggs and boiled potatoes. We had already learned that the peasants here were reluctant to accept money and most business transactions were on the basis of barter. We had all eaten our fill and, what was still left was devoured by our bard. That night we slept in the barn on soft hay. Early next morning I bought from the Czech a fly and hook attached to a line a few metres long. After teaching her how to cast and hold the line, the serious duty of angler was given to Marushka. We were quite excited and constantly asking her if she could feel the pull of a fish, if she had caught something, but to no avail.
In the meantime the boat took on more and more water and we somehow had to put our things higher. We could not find any specific hole; the old boat was simply leaking. We had to bail with only a cup at hand. This was an additional duty for Marushka who, disheartened as an angler, hardly watched the line. It was nearly noon when she called out "Got it". We understood immediately. I jumped aver the bard to the bow. Marushka was pale from excitement and explained that she had felt a sudden pull on the line and a resistance. I grabbed the line. Certainly there was resistance but I could haul in the line. Therefore it could not be roots. I told Marushka to make a place for me and asked the bard to push towards the bank. My heart was pounding. When hauling I sometimes felt the resistance go slack.
"It must be a pike." I called excitedly. "It feels like a really big catch."
"We will cook it the Jewish way with stuffing and butter and eggs,鈥� called the bard, licking his lips. Now the last tug and out of the dark depths came ... an old rusty bucket with a hole in its middle. I started cursing and threw the bucket back into the river and, going back to my place, told Marushka to go to hell with her fishing. For a while the frayed line trailed behind, then disappeared, and we gave up this unproductive business.
The Horyn started to turn and twist in many bends. Sometimes it took a few twisting miles to cover a distance of 50 metres. Our dug-out was too heavy to carry across the land. To make the boat speedier and lighter, we left only one man in the boat, the other two going by land.
After some bends, near a small bridge we once again saw Noah's Ark and our Robinson Crusoe. We were very astonished and couldn't understand how he had managed to pass us on his raft in this slow stream. He explained it quite simply.
鈥淏ecause we travel in a house, we don't have to stop for the night looking for accommodation. We don't stop, we travel through the night.鈥� At present he was in trouble as the small country bridge was very low and he was unable to pass under it. After several attempts, he decided to lower the roof of his cabin. The bridge was no trouble for our dug-out and we continued wishing each other a lucky journey without further interruptions. This was our last meeting - we never spotted the ark with its iron funnel again.
That day we covered quite a long stretch. At dusk when it was time to look for a sleeping place, we were passing through uninhabited wilderness. The evening mist was covering the meadows and above the river hung thick vapour when before us, suddenly emerged an old water mill. It was our first mill.
A plank was thrown over the weir. The old mill settled deeply into the ground. Foaming water flowed from the wheel. The Horyn formed a large pond here.
On the plank appeared some human shapes. They went in a single file, stepping carefully on the plank. We pushed the boat nearer to have a better look. Through the heavy mist we could distinguish Polish soldiers but they did not carry arms. Their coats were unbuttoned and some walked heavily, leaning on wooden sticks. They walked in silence. They were like phantoms produced by the falling dusk. Their single file appeared out of the mist covering the meadows. Bent and treading heavily along the river they disappeared once again, swallowed by the heavy vapours of the river. The sound of their footsteps ceased when they reached the grass.
We had a feeling of foreboding. Something had happened. For the last few days, travelling through the wilderness, missing well-trodden tracks, we had no idea what was happening. We wanted to find out. I jumped onto the bank and went towards the mill but they were all gone. I intended to follow them when a new file of soldiers appeared, coming towards us. We began to ask them questions. Where were they going? Why without arms. Had the war finished?
They did not want to talk. One solider answered. 鈥淔or us the war is ended." He spoke with a decided Warsaw accent. "Why?" I continued asking. "Have the Germans surrounded you?"
"No, the Front has not even reached us. Our commander demobilised the company and told us to go home. We hid our arms and are now going home."
"I don't understand. Did the commander think that there was no sense any more in fighting?"
鈥渊别蝉.鈥�
"But you said that the Front had not even reached you."
"Sure, but the Russians had hit us in the back. The whole Soviet Army is advancing to meet the Kraut. From one side the Front and, from the back, the Bolsheviks. We can't fight on two fronts. We are going home."
"What are you saying? Did the Soviet intervene?"
"If you continue with your journey, you will meet them." He finished talking and followed the others.
"Where are you going?" asked Marushka.
"We are going to the west," he called back.
We could not understand and were lost in conjectures. Was it true what we had heard? Maybe the Soviets had declared war on Germany? We headed towards a village. The bard stayed with the boat. We were accepted in the first house and given sleeping place in the garret, covered with fresh hay. We brought our belongings, hid the boat between the bushes and, with our host, sat down on a wide bench around the table. His wife cooked us potatoes and gave us a large pot of sour milk. We asked about news and the Front line. He could say nothing definite. He advised us to go to his neighbour who was manager of a co-operative. As his neighbour had a radio and, according to our host, was an educated man, we went there immediately after our meal. He was standing in front of his house, leaning against the fence. We introduced ourselves and asked for information.
"Don't you know that today Molotov, Prime Minister of the Soviet Union, announced on the air that the Soviet Army is entering Poland."
"What are you saying?" I asked, amazed. "Did the Soviet Union declare war on Poland?"
"No."
"Is she coming to help Poland against the Germans?"
"No."
"For what reason did the Soviet Army enter Poland? Didn't Molotov say?"
"He said that the aim of the Soviet Union is to liberate Western Ukrainians and White Russia from the oppression of the Polish lords and safeguard these countries from war activities and ruin."
"Has the Soviet Army already crossed the Polish border?" Marushka asked.
"Not only have they crossed, but they are already not far from us."
"And what news from the Front? Does the fighting continue?" she was asking.
"I don't know where the Front is at present. I heard yesterday that Warsaw is still fighting, that we are still holding Hel and Westerplatte. But rumour has it that Lublin is already in enemy hands and that German tanks are near Luck."
"Did you hear by any chance if our army is fighting the Russians or are they neutral?"
"I don't know. Today soldiers were passing our village. They were without arms, going home. They did not say much. One man told me that they were given orders to go home and to avoid conflicts with the Soviet Army. They don't want to speak about the approaching Soviet Army as it might incite the people to revolt. One heard that there were already instances of assault at the frontiers. Please, do realise that in this region the population is mainly White Russian. I am one myself. There are many here who are waiting the coming of the Soviets with anticipation. I live here permanently and I work amongst the peasants so I know their mood."
He was called to the house and we went back to bed down. Marushka and I did not sleep much that night as there was so much to think about. Only the bard slept heavily, full of potatoes. The fate of the world did not concern him much.

颁辞苍迟颈苍耻别诲鈥︹赌�
'This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by 大象传媒 Radio Merseyside鈥檚 People鈥檚 War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with his / her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

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