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.

Next morning when passing the Ministry I saw great activity. In front of the building were buses and cars, with employees hurrying, bringing their belongings. When I asked where the Ministry was moving, I was told tersely, "To Romania." Pushing through the crowds, I looked for the secretary of the Personnel Office. She was still in the building, packing documents. She advised me that the evacuation was to be towards Tarnopol and from there to the Romanian border as the military situation was very grave.
"You are coming too," she told me. "The visas will be completed at the border. Get your belongings and report here where the buses are leaving."
The sheep instinct took hold of me too. Taking our luggage, Marushka and I joined the others. The first buses were just leaving. Many people were still waiting. In the crowd I spotted Lesman who was nervously rushing from group to group asking for the next transport.
"When did you arrive?" I asked him. "Probably at the same time as you," he replied. He was not eager to talk. He looked pale and distracted, adjusting his glasses nervously. But I did not give in.
"How come I have not seen you, either in the train or here?" I continued.
"I came later by car. I was working here in the Press section."
"You must be well informed. What is happening? Why this hurry with evacuation?"
"Nothing good," he replied tersely, without his usual elaboration. "The Germans have broken through our lines in many places and are now pushing towards Lwow. I understand there is now danger that they might cut us off from the Rumanian border; therefore the hurry."
"All right, but what can we expect in Rumania?"
"What to expect? In this critical moment we have to save as many people as possible, organise the government in exile and fight for Poland at the side of our allies, not here but abroad. Do you understand? We must insist on speedy assistance from them."
"Yes, but Poland is still fighting and all the people cannot go, with their suitcases, to Rumania."
"Oh, Zygmunt, even now, in this dramatic moment, you are unable to curb your caustic remarks. In this case I mean of course the elite, the ... Oh, my bus .." he interrupted, grabbed his case and, without even saying goodbye, ran to the bus. The doors to the bus were crowded. Everyone wanted to get in simultaneously. One man, standing on the steps of the bus and pushing others away with his elbow, was shouting. "Gentlemen, please, ladies first" and, allowing his wife aboard, he ducked into the bus. Lesman was the next to dive in. Now everyone was trying even harder to push through. We also tried half heartedly, but too late. The overcrowded bus left.
We were the only ones left. Torn bits of paper were flying around on the empty street. The building stood empty, doors open. We sat down on the steps. Once again fate had decided for us and we were resigned. To be honest who knows, should another bus have arrived and we had been told to board, maybe we would have done so. We too would have left our country, just like the others. Were we any different? Probably not but deep down we had some qualms. Instinctively, we did not want to leave our country. Our actions were hampered, fate interfered. We stayed in Poland.
We started thinking what should we do now? Stay here and await further developments or go home? Home was far away, but there were our parents to be considered. After some deliberation, we decided to go back to Wilno. This decision was made easier because, as far as we knew, the way home did not cross the front.
Delaying no longer, we went to the station. The streets were empty; only occasionally a car went by in the direction of Tarnopol. In one of these cars we saw a well known minister and also speaker of the senate whom I knew from Wilno as a voivode (head of an administrative division). (Note: It was Mr. Raczkiewicz, who later in London became President of the Polish Government in exile). Most of our female students were in love with him as no one could wear tails as well as he and his top hat sat perfectly on his well shaped head. He was to the female students the ideal government representative who, with assured elegance, could even carry his mace beautifully.
The car carried him to an unknown future. Who could tell perhaps to a new future of dignity and honour.
Late in the evening, the train left towards Rowno. We bought tickets through to Wilno, approximately 400 km away.

Continued....
'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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