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.

Trains coming into Warsaw were disgorging refugees. Warsaw was swelling. The streets were ruled by crowds - crowds were more united, more talkative than ever, more sure of themselves. Crowds were proudly passing the barbed entanglements, in trams people disregarded the notices "for Germans Only". The few Germans who ventured out had to walk or stand on steps as their compartments were taken by Warsaw people. The angry Gestapo wanted to retaliate. We witnessed one of these scenes. A few Nazis with sticks in their hands boarded the first compartment on a tram (for Germans only) and started hitting to the right and left with their sticks, aiming at the heads of the Polish travellers. People started to jump out through doors and windows and the driver was ordered to go faster. The Nazis were swearing, the people were yelling, crying and moaning. The compartment became empty. On the street were lying the beaten people. In the empty tram only the Nazis were standing, wiping their brows. Behind came the Polish tram dozens of angry eyes were watching this incident. The driver continued travelling, ringing the foot-bell.
The hot July days were nearing an end when Warsaw was electrified with news: Germans are fleeing!
From the direction of the Vistula came the retreating German Army. Along Aleja Jeruzalimska came armoured cars, large trucks and private cars with suitcases. It was a continuous stream. All Warsaw turned out to have a look at this unusual parade. On crossroads military policemen with their white/red disks were now showing the direction to the west as once before they showed the way to the east. This flood was increased by cars coming from side streets as employees from German offices were joining the procession. In the cars Germans in Party uniforms were sitting on furniture, crates and suitcases. Also in cars were their friends and 'Volksdeutsche'. Most of the females hugged their fur coats. They were leaving with a rich booty taken from Jews. The rich heirs of the slain were reluctantly returning to their Fatherland. Here they had spent their fat years. Rows of onlookers were jeering and calling scathing remarks. Some girls sitting on a balcony were waving their handkerchiefs and calling sarcastically, "... bye ... bye! Never see you again!"
It was the last 'parade' in Warsaw by the German Army. The Front continued pushing: Rembertow, Radzymin. More people were looking for shelter in Warsaw. The refugees were bringing news straight from the Front. German evacuation became feverish. Buildings occupied by the Germans became empty. We saw soldiers throwing out from the windows of a fourth floor saddles, harnesses, ammunition belts, leather goods, into the trucks standing below the windows. They were all in a frantic hurry.
We were returning home for dinner. People in the streets were chatting animatedly like a crowd during holidays. Many walls had tar writings: "Kaput! Kaput!" (finished). Unexpectedly, from the corner of Wilcza and Marszalkowska came a shot, followed by a second and a third. In seconds the crowd dispersed in all directions, trams stopped and passengers rushed towards side streets or gates. Warsaw knew what might follow is round-up and Gestapo, and many innocent people could pay with their lives behind the walls of Pawiak gaol, therefore the street emptied quickly. Again a series of shots, followed by an echo along the brick walls of the street, a cry, a muted moan ... a sound of single steps. I grabbed Marushka's hand and rushed to a cafe door which was immediately closed and locked. A group of people were standing along the walls and peering through the windows. We heard a low voice saying "Someone is squaring his accounts,鈥� 鈥淎.K. is lifting its head,鈥� "Shortly it will get really hot" added another voice. The waitress, sighing heavily "Oh, my God, don't let them start too soon. The Germans can cut us all down. There are still plenty of soldiers in town". The waiter was trying to calm her "They are all running away. The Soviets are chasing them." Fifteen minutes passed and the Gestapo did not appear. Slowly the people started to sneak out. We rushed out and stopped in a gate of the side street. People were speaking anxiously about the event. Two Gestapo men were killed, it was repeated in whispers. We took a long detour going home, leaving this suburb behind.

We were late for dinner. My cousin, Marysia, was just ready to leave. Under her coat was a nurse's bag and in her hand a suitcase full of medicine, cotton wool and bandages. She informed us immediately that today she was again on duty. "I have barely an hour to reach my meeting point" and, turning towards me, she gave me a piece of paper. "Just in case, here is my address, but be discreet .. you understand?" She was happy and excited. Her eyes were shining proudly. She was sure of herself in her exuberant youth. "Keep well. Maybe in five days we will see each other. Bye, bye, mother,鈥� and the door closed behind her. Standing in the hall we could hear the sound of her steps running down the stairs. She went to do her duty just like many other young girls in Warsaw, a nurse in the underground army. Downstairs the door banged and then silence. She never returned home. She was killed during the uprising.
The old grandfather clock was ticking away the hours of Warsaw.
My old aunt sat down in her old rocking chair near the window. She was the only one left at home - a mother of a family. Once it was quite a noisy nest. The last one left just now, the youngest one. The others? The others were chucked out by the war. The son, a prisoner-of-war, who knows where he might be? There was no news - her son-in-law was deported to somewhere in the far east of the Soviet Union and her daughter left the house to look after her family. Her own husband was killed by the war. She was left alone like mothers who bore children for the requirements of wars. Is it worthwhile, is there any sense in bearing children when the world still has wars? Cynical powers look on motherhood as production for cannon fodder just like the necessary production of tanks, airplanes and tinned foods.
The day seemed to drag on - nothing was happening in the home. The clock continued ticking loudly. The faded calendar in Uncle's room gave the day in large letters as the first of August, 1944. Marushka was curled up in bed reading a book. I decided to go into the city, just out of boredom.
"Please don't go. You heard the shooting - it is dangerous. Please stay" - Marushka had eyes full of tears and was nearly hysterical. I hesitated. The clock was still ticking. I grabbed my hat and slammed the door behind me. Soon I was at the tram stop of Rakowiecka. No tram was coming. Others were waiting impatiently, looking at their watches. "Maybe the trams stopped coming" someone asked, "why?"
"I heard in the city that something is going to happen at four o'clock."
"What is going to happen?"
"How should I know what; I just heard."
Minutes passed and still no tram. I started thinking about Marushka's tears. She was alone at home. I went back home and a few minutes later our friend Czeslaw arrived.
We were chatting about old times, especially about our families back there in Lithuania. Through the open window came the noise of playing children. The clock was chiming the hour as FIVE p.m. Suddenly the noise of shots. Marushka jumped to her feet. We all listened. After a second of silence the sound of machine-guns firing. First just a short blast, then a long one. "What now?" Full of anxiety, Marushka looked at us for an answer. We moved nearer the window. The nearest shots were answered by some farther ones. Somewhere a machine gun was firing without stopping, answered by an echo from a side street. Somewhere a Tommy gun was barking. The shooting intensified. Our side street was empty - the children fled home. From the opposite side of our house a door was opening slowly. Looking carefully up and down the street, three young girls entered the street. Two were carrying a stretcher. The one walking in front had a first-aid bag over her shoulder. They had Red Cross armbands on their sleeves. Turning towards Marushka, I pressed her hands and whispered, "The uprising has begun."

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.'

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.