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 I got up and was shaving when I heard some commotion in the yard, some yelling, some running. I looked out through the bathroom window. People were forming groups and then quickly running somewhere else, women were wringing their hands and rushing back into the flats. All these activities were so nervous that I wiped the soap from my face and ran to the yard. On the stairs I met our neighbour.
"What happened?"
"A few minutes ago Germans came and ordered everyone, without exception, to vacate the house. In fifteen minutes all the houses will be burnt down."
His wife was terribly distressed. "What shall we do? How can we save our property? We can't take all our things with us." There was no time to lose. I rushed back home. Marushka was still very weak and lying in bed. Although the crisis had passed and the infection gone, she was still very tired from the high temperature. Bad luck. I told her to get dressed quickly. We decided to take to the basement the more valuable things belonging to my auntie. If the house burned down, maybe something in the basement would survive. We made big bundles from sheets, emptying wardrobes and drawers, and hurried to the basement. The stairs were crammed with people rushing up and down. Taking only the most essential things, especially the remaining food, we locked the door and, accompanied by auntie and Czeslaw, went down to the yard.
Many were already gathered in the yard. Some were still bringing down their belongings, others were digging holes in the lawn to hide some of their things. It was crowded and hectic beyond description. Trunks, suitcases and bundles made walking very hard. The Germans were speeding us along. Nobody knew where we were supposed to be going.
Hesitating, waiting for others, people were stopping before the gates. Nobody wanted to go outside as there was still shooting in the streets. From the direction of the Union Square came the sound of heavy firing from cannons. We could not stop here - the pressure from behind was too strong and one by one people came into the street and into the yard of the next building. Someone had started in that direction and the rest just followed. It was a long chain of people, burdened with their possessions. We went through other yards, through holes in fences, through empty building blocks, passing different rubbish heaps. If we had to cross a street we did it carefully, looking to all sides and then rushing as quickly as possible to the other side. Sometimes the well-trodden road led through empty basements, boiler rooms and laundries - everywhere the doors were open. This was the line of communication of fighting Warsaw. The track was well-trodden by the insurgents, evacuees and liaison officers. We reached Kielecka Street. My other cousin, a doctor, lived here. We thought we might stop there. But here was the same picture. This block had also to be vacated and burnt and my cousin had already left. The same chaos, the same laments. Tired women, crying children and rushing men looking for some way out of this trap. What to do? Where to flee? Did they intend to burn all Warsaw down? Yards and streets were full of people and their belongings. From a side street German soldiers rushed out waving their guns at us and telling us to look for shelter as in ten minutes German planes would bomb the neighbouring street where there was still resistance from the partisans. The coming bombs should crush them. Everyone rushed to the basement. Some left their things behind whilst others were trying to take them to the shelter. The crush was unbelievable. People were tripping over the bundles which were obstructing the way on the narrow and dark stairs. Some were cursing, others were praying and children, pushed from all sides, were crying. Suddenly all became quiet as the first loud detonation shook the walls. The doors were left open. As I could not make my way downstairs, I stood on the stairs observing the sky. The air raid had begun. More than ten bombers of the Luftwaffe were circling like hungry vultures looking for their prey. For the first time I saw quite clearly the falling bombs. Clouds of dust were rising above the houses. Each plane was dropping its prescribed ration. The suburb was all in flames. Heavy detonations were shaking the walls of our basement. From the depths of the basement came the sound of collective praying. From above the hungry bombers, flying very low after all the bombs were gone, started shooting with machine guns into the streets. This all took place in ten short minutes. That was all. The planes turned back leaving behind the agony of a suburb smouldering and covered in a mourning pall of black smoke.
After leaving the basement, the S.S. men directed us to the other side of Rakowiecka Street. Helping the old aunt, we tried to cross the street as quickly as possible. A few German armoured vehicles were in the street and further down were the remnants of barricades and barbed wire entanglements. After a few short rests, we reached the park which surrounded the officers' casino near Rakowiecka Street. Here we took a deep breath. Big, old trees, many shrubs and lawns were like a 'tonic. There were no houses nearby. We liked it here. Among the bushes I found some old club chairs, deep and comfortable. We chose a cluster of shrubs, brought the club chairs and, with our things near us, we felt we were in a natural wild summerhouse surrounded on all sides by shrubs and trees.
Night was approaching. More and more evacuees were coming to the park looking for a place to spend the night. Our block of flats was still untouched. We decided to await new developments. Covered with coats and a blanket for auntie, we slept in our chairs. The night passed.
The cold morning woke us at dawn. In the park birds were singing and in the Mokotow fields bullets were whistling. Leaving auntie with our things, Czeslaw, Marushka and I went to look for some hot food. Czeslaw, after his unsuccessful attempt to join the partisans, stayed with us. Near a dried-out pond we saw a large wooden building which was the officers' club. A few people were already around. Some were washing themselves under the hydrant. The inside of the club was packed with people and their suitcases, children were sleeping on tables, others slept on chairs and benches, leaning against walls. We met many people from our yard. In the large kitchen women were cooking for their families. Various pots and pans were standing on the hot stove. We brought our meagre supplies and Marushka started to cook. It was good to have some warm food. Looking around we saw S.S. men among the evacuees. Marushka went to ask if we could return home as our home was still standing. Maybe the order to burn had been cancelled?
"No, the order stays. It is only postponed for a short while. I don't advise you to go home,鈥� replied the soldier.
"We would like to bring a few more things and it is so near to here. There is even some vodka left,鈥� Marushka said, looking him straight in the eyes.
He became interested. After a short hesitation, he told us that he would escort us. We went, the soldier leading, behind him Marushka with a white handkerchief in her hand and, behind her, Czeslaw and myself. Only a few people were furtively walking about. We walked along our block where the footpath was covered with bricks and broken glass. In many places there were big holes made by artillery shells. We entered our yard where we found a few people who were unable to leave their belongings behind and had decided to stay in the block. Entering the flat I immediately got the vodka and offered it to the soldier and then we started to do some more packing. The soldier, drinking from the bottle and in a happy and friendly mood, was trying to help us. He admired Marushka's bracelet so much that she had to give it to him. When the packing was done I went out to the balcony to have a last look at our yard. How different it looked. Gone was our forum and I did not see people, only rabbits that were left behind and were now playing on the lawn. At this time of the day the yard had usually been pulsating with life but now it seemed dead, the balconies and windows empty. I looked at the flats that would shortly be consumed by flames. Glancing around, my eyes stopped at the second floor opposite us. Sitting on the windowsill was Adam. The window was open and he was looking at the window reflection of himself. His face looked distorted by an odd and tragic grimace. He was biting his lower lip and it seemed that he was speaking to his mirror image. His hair was falling over his brow and his long, thin fingers were drawing something on the window pane. When we were in the yard going back to the park I called out to him. He looked down at me, smiling sadly.
"Adam, why haven't you left? Staying here might cost you your life."
"Life is now very cheap at the stock exchange of war. There is no possibility that I will overpay." After a few seconds of silence he continued. "Then I was a kid and saw boys burning nests I thought them wicked but now when people are burning people I simply don't want to be a man. I would rather be a bird and fly to the world of winged ghosts."
Adam will stay in my memory for a long time. Were his shaking fingers crossing out his own image? Did he look for the last time at his own reflection? I don't know, but I never saw him again. I was told soon after that he committed suicide by jumping out of a window.
We returned to the park. From everywhere new refugees, thrown out of their houses, were coming. The place in front of the casino was swarming with people and hand-pushed carts. Families were camping on the lawns. I also saw a group of people who looked a lot worse than the rest. They were emaciated, their clothing dirty and torn. They were the people who, on the day of the uprising, at about 5 p.m., were passing through Niepodleglosci Avenue. When the uprising began with shooting from all directions they hid in one block that was under construction. They could neither go back nor forward. There they spent eleven long days without food and long nights in the cold. In the street I saw a group of insurgent prisoners who, under the guard of some S.S. men, were laying mines across Niepodleglosci Avenue.
When we were in the kitchen trying to prepare some warm food, we heard that houses in Rakowiecka Street were being burnt. We all rushed out to look at the street to see with our own eyes the new crime committed by our occupiers. Until the last moment we did not want to believe that the Germans would do it to a suburb which was completely under their control. We assumed that the threat to burn all the houses down was only meant as a threat which would bring all the people outside and then they would be herded together, taken prisoner or to internment and, in the meantime, the soldiers could do some looting.
Reality proved us wrong. The vandalism committed by the 'bearers of culture' was witnessed by thousands of people who were watching behind the railings of the park.
In, the middle of the street there came a group of fully armed S. S. men, their guns at the ready. Behind them came the fire lighters with their equipment - a hand-drawn cart with a barrel of petrol and bags full of flock. First, hand grenades were thrown in, damaging windows and doors, then tufts of flock soaked in petrol, lit and tossed into the houses through the openings. And so they walked along from window to window, from door to door, from house to house, covering the whole street, leaving behind burning fires and clouds of smoke. First the lighter furniture and drapes burned, then the fire licked along the wallpapered walls, pictures fell down and bookcases collapsed, giving the fires more strength. The flames became brighter and spread quickly through the houses, creeping to beds where the smoke became more acrid. Full of encouragement, the fires started licking the outside walls and flames growing bigger reached the higher floors. Nothing disturbed them as the S.S. men made sure that nobody could try to put out the fires. All this was watched by a crowd of people from the other side of the street. Although the street was very wide, the heat of the fires reached us. Some people had tears in their eyes. We were watching the destruction of our homes, our belongings and our relics so dear to our hearts. Our capital city, Warsaw, was being destroyed.
When the Germans were farther away and the flames were engulfing houses, some people couldn't stand it any longer. Breaking fences, some people ran to their homes. The crowd still waited but when the first people started to return carrying on their backs their possessions the crowd surged forward. People were throwing things out of the burning houses, others carried their belongings over the road into the park. The people were working frantically, carrying their burdens on their backs just like ants rushing to and fro around their disturbed anthill.
The German soldiers did not interfere. They only made sure that nobody put the fires out. When one elderly man grabbed the hose and directed the water towards the house, he was shot down on the spot without any warning. The water continued to flow from the hose along the street and the people fled. The body of the man who had dared to fight the fires in his own home remained in the street.
The fires were spreading higher and higher. The breaking windows were falling to the street. The heat made it impossible to go near the houses. Less and less people, at the risk of their own lives, tried to reach the flats. Some people, crying, their skin and hair badly singed, tumbled out of houses. Watching the fires, we did not notice dark thundery clouds gathering over Warsaw. Only when the first drops began fulling, a great rush started to find some shelter against the rain. The casino was overcrowded, as were all the outbuildings, including the hothouses. Completely soaked through, we found an unfinished garden shed. It had neither windows nor doors nor floors but it had a roof which was the most important thing. The room was crowded and no floor space was available but the porch was still free. I put the easy chair which I had brought over from our previous place along the wall for my aunt. Late in the evening the rain stopped. Marushka went to the kitchen to boil up some hot water while Czeslaw and I started to prepare our shelter for the night. Under the roof we found some straw mats which were used for the hothouse windows. We put some on the floor and we used one to cover the door opening.
The shed stood opposite the burning houses and not far from the street. Although the rain, had damped down the fires, they were again burning fiercely. In some houses the fires had reached the roofs. The crumbling walls and ceilings were bursting into myriads of sparks. The noise of the raging fires continued, the heat was reaching us and the smoke completely covered the sky. We did not notice when the evening became night. It was so light in the park that one could read without trouble and it was hot. Exhausted people were trying to seek rest and sleep on benches, under trees and on lawns. From the city the sound of battle continued as usual but nobody took much notice. It was like back ground music coming from our fighting Warsaw. The whole park created an impression of a huge railway station where travellers with luggage were waiting for a train - destination unknown.
After midnight the air was torn by a thunderous roar. In seconds the dozing people were up looking for shelter, not knowing what the new menace was. Hanging on to their remaining property, they tried to hide behind buildings, trees and shrubs. Frightened children screamed and mothers clutched them tightly.
Adjacent to the park was German heavy artillery, camouflaged by the shrubs. The noise of the shooting was deafening, hurting the eardrums and accompanied by a loud screeching sound and the jarring of gunshots. The onslaught was directed against the centre of the city. The park and the scared faces of the people were covered with a red glow. Thousands of sparks were flying over the park. The houses were covered by heavy smoke. It was a gloomy night. The twelfth night of the Warsaw uprising.

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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