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, in one of the flats, the priests celebrated Holy Mass for the memory of all those who perished so tragically in the chapel. Most of the inhabitants of our block attended this Mass.
At noon the time came for the promised truce. It was a very great event in our imprisoned life. Women with white handkerchiefs in their hands rushed out. Some went to dig potatoes, others to visit neighbouring houses where they had friends and relatives. Our yard was visited by women from other blocks. It was very lively in the yard with greetings, kisses and hugging between friends and relatives. People from further away also came. There were some hand-pushed carts, fully loaded, there were women and children and also some men in torn clothing and covered with soot and some were wounded. Of course we started to ask questions. They were evacuees from the avenue of Niepodleglosc (Independence). A few days before there had been very heavy fighting. The Germans were attacking from Rakowiecka Street.
There was bombing, including incendiary bombs. The fires were so fierce that it was impossible to stay. Taking their meagre possessions they left for neighbouring streets and, using yards only, had arrived here. The insurgents were still fighting from some houses in Niepodleglosc Avenue.
Opposite the first aid station a young man was lying on the grass. His face looked greyish-green and he was covered with sweat. Sometimes he was grabbed by cramps. Next to him knelt a woman, crying silently and bathing his face with a wet rag. Sometimes his eyes rolled up and he seemed to be only semiconscious and in great pain. He did not seem to be wounded and had only a small dressing on his hand. Two hours later when I passed him again he was covered with a white sheet and the young woman was sobbing. He was deed.
The doctor standing nearby told me the cause of his death - it was tetanus. The dead man's wife told him that a bullet had slightly grazed her husband's hand but they had to crawl through the potato fields because they were being shot at. His hand became dirty which probably caused the tetanus. Alas, there were no injections against tetanus available at this first aid station and he was condemned to death. Death for him was inevitable. Now it had claimed him.
In the evening we were alarmed by heaving shooting from the direction of Okecie (Warsaw's suburb). We were alarmed as, until now, there had never been fighting from this direction. Sore boys brought news of houses burning in the fields of Mokotow. We felt even more uneasy. We were expecting an attack by the partisans. Some rumour also reached us that the Russians had broken through the Front in East Warsaw. When it became dark we could see a few fires from the fields of Mokotow. Single houses were burning. Germans in full battle dress rushed into our yard and told us to go down to the basement as a battle was going to start near us. They rushed through the yard and disappeared through the opposite gate.
It was once again a night full of anxiety. Shooting had intensified a lot. The German machine guns were alongside our block. They were shooting non-stop in the direction of the burning single houses. Some soldiers were moving forwards, protected by the walls. Wounded soldiers were brought to our first aid station. We were all gathered in the basement as bullets were even whipping through the yard.
Everything quietened down in the morning. After a few hours' sleep I came down to the yard. It was a sunny morning, children were playing in the sand pits and elderly gentlemen were sitting on benches getting, some sun and warmth after a night in the cold and smelly basement. Even the pigeons were flying trouble-free among us. In front of the First Aid Post were field beds for the slightly wounded. What I saw was rather unusual considering the circumstances we lived in. On the grass, lying side by side, were Polish insurgents and uniformed German soldiers. Polish nurses were helping them, full of concern and attention, giving one and all their friendly smiles. This picture brought a pleasant warm feeling. It was like an unexpected ray of sun breaking through dark thunderous clouds, a ray of humanism, a human approach to humans. Those who only a short while ago were ready to kill each other were now lying close together, not enemies any more but suffering human beings.
Unexpectedly an armoured car stopped before the gate. A German officer with some soldiers came towards the First Aid Post. In terse sentences he asked for a surgeon who had to go with him immediately to operate on a seriously wounded German officer of higher rank. Professor Loth, a famous Polish surgeon, lived in our block. He was called down. We all watched full of anxiety as our professor in his white coat followed the German to the car. His wife was crying and begging the German to let her husband return after the operation and to protect him against German bullets. We were all worried and anxious to have him back. Having the good fortune to have this surgeon in our block, we did not want to lose him.
On one of the benches an old woman was sitting and crying silently. Her old face was deeply lined and her hands were kneading a wet handkerchief.
"Why are you so upset?" I asked her, thinking that she was upset because the professor had to leave.
"My poor little son is probably already dead,鈥� she said and began to sob.
"Where is your little son?"
"He worked for the Jesuits. You know, where this terrible thing happened, where all were killed. Oh my God, he will never return to me. I came here from Kielecka Street looking for him when I heard that the chapel was burnt down. And here I was told that all were killed by the cursed pagans. I wish to give him a Christian funeral but they do not allow me to even look for his body."
"How old was your little boy?" I asked her, thinking that maybe the boy who had survived could be her son.
"I think he would now be sixty-nine." Astonished, I looked at her. She continued "He was not young any more, my son, but he was the only one I had. He was the only solace in my old age. My husband died fifty years ago. I brought him up alone. He was not married - he was not of this world. He worked for the Jesuits as a cabinet maker. And now this terrible misfortune. And now this divine scourge. Now I am quite alone"
There were no words which I could use to comfort this unhappy woman.
Coming home, I met Czeslaw at the door. "Goodbye, Zygmunt, I am leaving. I am going to join the insurgents. I should have done it a long time ago." For the first time his voice was quite firm. He had decided.
"Wait, let us talk. How are you going to find them? Our suburb is completely in the hands of the Germans. You might be caught even before you ..." He interrupted;
"All last night I was thinking. I have decided. I will sneak through the yards and I will avoid all streets. And anyway I am free and not responsible to anyone."
I understood. Nothing I could say would stop him - just the opposite. An argument now would make him less cautious and impetuous. We were so different in our outlooks. I took his hand and wished him all the luck to achieve his aim. He rushed down the stairs and disappeared from view.
Just after Czeslaw left an insurgent group of medical and first aid staff arrived in our yard. A young doctor and four nurses were carrying stretchers. The doctor was carrying a white handkerchief in his hand as it was the truce hour. We surrounded them immediately, asking for news. They came from the suburb of Czerniakowo. Fighting still continued there and their hospital was overcrowded and conditions of work extremely hard due to lack of medical supplies. Wounded had to be operated on without anaesthetics and without painkilling drugs. Fighting in the streets made it very hard to find and bring in the wounded. Quite often the wounded were lying for days in empty flats, behind gateposts, in ruined basements or just among the ruins. As they were left untreated for so long, their condition become so bad that only amputation remained. The insurgents had no organised resistance until the Place of Unia Lubelks where there were the first barricades. We were also told about some news of the war in Europe. The German front lines in France were broken and the allies were advancing quickly. Nobody knew how the situation was developing on the Soviet front. This was all the news we received.
As Marushka was not in the yard, I went home to share the latest news with her. I found her ill in bed. In the morning she had not been feeling well but now she was worse. Her temperature was rising above forty. I felt desperate. Marushka was showing signs of blood poisoning in the leg which was injured. We were lucky as an injection of prontozyl was brought for her during the night by a young schoolgirl with long blonde plaits. As our First Aid Post had no injections, one could get them only from somewhere near the centre of Warsaw from a medical store. This schoolgirl was our liaison officer - the connecting link. She was small, nimble and agile 'like a little field mouse. By squeezing through holes in yard fences, through basements, she was able to reach the medical store bringing the needed supplies requested by our doctor. This time it was she again who brought to Marushka the badly required medicine. After a while Marushka fell asleep. She was very hot and was muttering something. I was sitting on the bed and watching her. My old auntie who was partly infirm was sleeping in her own room. The old clock was still ticking. I could not sleep - sad thoughts kept invading. What will happen if I lose may most faithful life companion? The extremely high temperature, the swollen groin, spreading dark patches mean trouble. Will I see Czeslaw ever again? Or his sister, Henia, with the baby living in the southern suburbs of Warsaw? And my cousin Marysia who is now a nurse somewhere in Warsaw? And all the other relatives and friends scattered somewhere by the war? In my mind's eye I saw our departure from the house on the hill and the small human form of Jurek whose white cap was only a small dot. I saw Roman giving me his charming smile. I was also hungry as for dinner today we had bread and finished the lot. This bread we bought for 100 zloty from a railway employee living in our block. He still had bread but we had no more zloty left. What will happen now? What in a hundred years? Will there always be war? During wars the research and technique for destruction develops very quickly. Maybe in times to come people will develop a bomb loaded with some such super dynamite that all the earth will blow up and the glorious victor will not even have a place to dictate his terms. This is absurd. But the basis of war is built on the absurd war logic and its pathological justifications.
Marushka was breathing heavily and covered in sweat. I tried to make her more comfortable. Her body was fighting for the right to live. Maybe her blood was sighting a deathly battle with invading bacteria?
Hours dragged on, time stood still. What is time? I was never able to understand the definition of absolute time.
In the morning Czeslaw returned. He was tired and depressed. Crossing various backyards, he was able to reach the Avenue of Niepodleglosc where signs of fierce fighting were visible. In some empty houses insurgents were hiding. They told him that their group, including their leader, were crushed and only a small number were able to retreat to inner suburbs. The avenue was under complete control of the Germans who could shoot from different positions. It was quite impossible to reach the other side of the street. The few left had no ammunition and were in hiding between the labyrinth of the ruins. Very disappointed, Czeslaw had returned.
This day the family of the Lublin doctor also returned. The two soldiers had kept their promise and escorted his family back to him. The young engineer and his family looked tired, dirty, covered in torn rags. The daughter had bleeding feet, torn by barbed wire. The first days of the uprising were spent in one of the gazebos. They were eating fruit and salads. It was cold at night, as they had nothing to cover themselves with. In the first days, being afraid of ambush, the Germans would not leave their reinforced positions. After a few days, having a large range of covering fire, they started to dominate this area, pushing the insurgents out. The engineer's wife told us that when the first patrols reached the fields everyone was very astonished to see among the S.S. men many Ukrainers, Kazbeks and Azerbaijans. They, more than the S.S. men, became a terror to the people. Those primitive, undisciplined Asiatic men in German service, morally dull beyond any comprehension, let loose all their beastly instincts. When drunk they started hunting people, raping women and grabbing valuables. The frustrated engineer told us that when he was trying to rescue his teenage daughter he was thrown to the ground and beaten unmercifully and, of course, his watch and other valuables were taken. His daughter was lucky to run away from a completely drunk soldier. All night she hid in the potato field. All looted things such as watches, earrings, rings, cigarette cases, the soldiers put into stockings. It became impossible to keep hiding. Of their own free will, the people started to go to the nearby German barracks which were close to the artillery. There were about two hundred people. The women were employed to dig potatoes, the men to polish the cannons until they were shining. This way they lived for ten days without being able to wash or to undress.
This night I was on guard duty. Nothing special had happened. As usual, Warsaw's fires were lighting the sky. Shooting was only far away. We walked around the quiet yard. Some people, as usual, were sleeping in the basement.
I was thinking about the story Marushka told me. A schoolgirl with the long, blonde plats, accompanied by her mother, came to visit Marushka. Marushka was thanking the girl and feeling very guilty towards the mother, having endangered the girl's life. The mother, speaking with a sad smile, told her the following tale. Her teenage girl, being of small build and very agile, was going most nights into the city for medical supplies needed by the First Aid Post. They both considered it their duty to help people as best they could. Mother would gladly have gone instead of letting the girl go but only a child was able to squeeze through the only available narrow openings through damaged brick walls and sewer grilles. Marushka was deeply touched by this attitude of a loving mother, understanding how terribly hard it must be to let the child face additional danger in bringing help to others. To Marushka, this mother was the real heroine.

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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