My Story by Romuald Lipinski

 

 

INTRODUCTION

 

It isn't easy to write about those turbulent years that went by then.  It isn't easy to resurrect the people, the pictures in my imagination, recreate the whole climate and scenarios of those times.  I tried it many times and somehow always put down my pen with a sigh of helplessness.  How to write about the experiences that you like to forget?

 

But memories follow you around everywhere throughout your life and you cannot shake them off.  Sometimes through the darkness of the sleepless night people that I knew then, that I suffered with, fought with, drank with, shared the most scary experiences with and the most intimate thoughts come and stand by so vivid in my imagination that I have an impression that the image is reality.  Through the " mind's eyes" I see the places where we went by, the faces of people, they come out of the darkness and seem to be so close...

 

There are two reasons for writing this memoirs: one,  the most important, is that I want you, my dear children, to know more about the past of your parents, how and what we went through before we found peace and security and freedom in this new country of ours.  The other is equally important.  There has been a lot written about atrocities committed on the Jews during the WWII.  There is a good reason for these writings.  Things like that cannot be ever repeated again.  The crimes that the Nazis did are hair raising.  I do not believe in a communal responsibility but in this case the entire German nation should take the blame.  They simply did not do anything to prevent it.  They were happy to profit from the fruits of the conquests of the other nations and were dancing on the their graves.  But there were other holocausts that nobody wants to talk about.  Think of the thousands of Gypsies that were murdered by the Nazis.  Nobody speaks for them.  And think about millions of Poles that were killed by both Germans and Russians.  Proportionally, Poland lost most of its population from all the nations involved in the war.  Twenty percent of Poland's citizens perished.  The fact that all of my siblings and I survived this terrible war was miracle.  This is the holocaust that we both, you mother and I witnessed.   There was a world wide drama that was in front of us and we were the actors. We were on the stage.  But the world does not want to remember this, nobody wants to talk about it.  Why bother about a few millions of Poles who were uprooted from their homes, deported to some God forsaken land, left there to die.  People are too concern about cutting their lawns, that the traffic is too heavy in the morning, that the program on television is too boring.  Why go back to these unpleasant days and think about people from some remote country like Poland.?!

 

But this is exactly why I am writing about.  I want to give a testimony of what happened and how did it happen.           

As you know, there was a lot of talk about the World War II in our house.  This is understandable.  Under "normal" conditions, a soldier, or a civilian, if he or she was not permanently disabled, after the war could return to his or her previous environment and resume a normal life.  In our case it was different.  We did not have any place to go to.  There was no place to go to.  Our towns were all ruined  or in a foreign country, under a regime that we knew only too well.   When I saw for the first time the ruins of Warsaw, my beloved city,  tears were flawing down my face and I could not control my sobbing.  I the "eyes of my mind" I saw the old Market Square, all in ruins, and I knew that every stone there was soaked with blood of those young boys and girls who fought there during the Warsaw Uprising.  The war caused a complete uprooting of our lives, complete change in our outlook towards life, and directed our lives on completely new tracks.   

 

Both of us, your mother and I were deported when we were practically children: your mother at the age of 10 and I at the age of almost 16 (I was deported on June 21, 1941 and my birthday is on July 25).  The war ended in 1945 but we did not resume our "normal" lives for a long time due to the fact that we were in various camps as "displaced persons."  So, we went through our childhood, teens, and even early adulthood being tossed by the circumstances all over the world.  That certainly left its trace on our lives later.

Your mother was deported with her mother  and brother to Siberia in April 1940. Her stepfather had to seek refuge from Russians in Latvia, where he was arrested in 1941, when Soviet Union occupied that country.  They were reunited in Siberia after we got an amnesty from Russians.  As a child she already faced problems of life that would be beyond your imagination: hunger, abandonment (her mother had to stay away from her children at the place of work) living alone with her brother who was only 1˝ year older than her, among Russians.  She told me that once when she was returning to her village after visiting her mother, she had to go through the river Irtish which was frozen at that time.  Her mother was watching her from the river bank and to her horror she saw a lonely wolf following Iza at a distance.  Iza was completely unaware of the wolf.  Iza's mother heart froze from terror but she did not scream  in fear that Iza could start running and that would excite the wolf.   Fortunately, apparently the wolf was not hungry and did not attack Iza. They had to flee from Siberia down south of Russia to get to the safety of the  Polish Army.  She almost died from dysentery during the epidemic there.  After that came  the years in the refugee camp in Tanganyika (Tanzania) in Africa where she arrived at the age of 13 and left for England when she was 18 in 1948.  In the camp, its was a very close knit community, where the residents knew each other and about each other.  Since all able bodied men were in the army there was almost complete lack of male companions.  Encounters with wild animals and not very civilized natives (Massay) were almost everyday occurrences.  And then, in 1948, at the age of 18, she went to England.  The camp where Iza stayed with her parents was for young Polish officers preparing for their civilian life by taking all kinds of courses, such as drafting, accounting etc.  It may be difficult to comprehend the difficulties that faced her: overnight she changed from Jane, swinging on lianas in a jungle, swimming in lake that was very deep, of volcanic origin, playing with her girlfriends, into a young woman, whom a young, handsome officer approached, addressing her as "Pani" (Polish equivalent to "Mademoiselle"), with the customary kiss of her hand.  She told me that it was very embarrassing for her.  To aggravate the situation, she was a very attractive girl so young guys would flock around her like bees around a pretty flower. 

 

I was deported on June 21, 1941, only hours before the Germans invaded Russia.  It wasn't easy for me either but I had two advantages over Iza: 1) I was much older than her (I was almost 16) and 2) my father was deported with us which provided, as you will see later a great plus.  Of course, I had my share of hard times: typhus, disrupted education, uprooting of my life, combat, but I didn't stay in Siberia as long as Iza (I was deported about a 1˝ of a year later).

 

That is the overview of our times during the war.  No wonder that the war stays with us for the rest of our lives and you hear about it all the time.  But I am supposed to give you a more detailed account of the events, so it is time to begin.

 

This is going to be unrehearsed tale of our past, the most factual that I can make it, without exaggeration, just the way it was.  Perhaps we will get bored by it but sometimes maybe you will take your time and go through these pages.  Well where shall I start from?  My childhood?

 

 


I   CHILDHOOD

 

My childhood was relatively happy.  My father a railroad physician, wasn't very rich, but at same time we were not very poor.  I could say that we were in the category of middle class by the contemporary Poland's standards.  We had a comfortable apartment, by the clinic where my father was working, there was always a nice, large yard and a garden which was taken care of by a gardener working for the railroad.  I think that the apartment was free as well as allocation of railroad ties and coal for heating.  We also had a telephone, which was my pride and glory, because telephones at that time in Poland were at a premium.  The only reason my father had one was for use in connection with his work.  Of course, I used to call a telephone operator (it wasn't a dial type) to get connections with my friends, and when the authorities found out that I used the "service phone" for my long talks with my friends I was reprimanded.

Our house was loaded with all kinds of books: medical, (my mother was a graduate midwife) historical etc.  I was an avid reader. At age 10 I started to devour books.  Sometimes I would get a  heavy volume (400 pages) from the library and in one afternoon and evening I would finish it.  I developed a passion for all kinds of books and different countries.  By the age of 14 I was familiar with classical literature of Poland, France  (Alexandre Dumas, Eugene Sue, Marcel Proust, Michael Zevacco) and I started to read the Russian (Dostoyevsky).  But of all the subjects I liked mostly historic novels. (Sir Walter Scott, and Polish literature Przyborowski, Gasiorowski, Krasicki, Sienkiewicz, Kraszewski and so many others).  I read also detective stories and also others which were not quite recommended for young boys.  My mother was worried that I am too developed for my age and will become a "young old man".  I remember she had a conversation with my half brother’s wife who was a teacher, and asked her if my devotion to reading would not interfere with my future development.  She calmed when her daughter-in-law said that if I play with my friends who were in my age ‑ things will go the way they should.  But I had my normal boy's joys and sorrows.  We used to play "the army", the cops and robbers, Indians and cowboys just as other kids do.  I liked to go to the movies.  I remember seeing American cowboy movies with Ken Maynard and Tom Mix, with Polish subtitles.  One of my favorite ways of play was tree climbing.  There were several trees in our backyard and liked to climb it and spent hours seating there.

WAR: SEPTEMBER 1, 1939

 

In summer September 1939,  we knew that the war with Germany was imminent, and my mother and I went to Lomza to bring Andzia to Brzesc nad Bugiem (now in Belorussia, Brest).  Lomza was close to the East-Prussian border and we thought that it will be safer for her to be with us.  The name Brzesc  nad Bugiem  comes from the river Bug nearby. Just when we arrived to Brzesc, with Andzia and her little baby, at the railroad station there was an air raid.  We did not know that the Germans attacked Poland and it was a complete surprise.  This was my first encounter with the war.  I was very scared when I saw whole railroad car going up in the air as a result of an explosion.  I looked up and saw the small points in the sky, which looked so innocent and yet were causing such a devastation.  I didn't see anybody dead that time but everybody was running in every direction in panic.  Somehow we all (Mother, Andzia, Leszek and Andzia's small baby and myself) made home safely.

 

I don't think that I realized the meaning of what was happening.  I didn't appreciate the vast number of people will that be affected by the war.  Somehow, it did not come to my consciousness.  The grownups were talking about it and I could see that they were very concerned about it but I just didn't appreciate this.

 

Soon after the first days of September things started to happen.  We could see that the war wasn't going well for Poland.  There was an enormous lift in spirit when the radio announced that England and France declared war on Germany.  "Now, I said to myself, we will certainly win."  But we were not winning.  The German planes were coming and bombing our town, aiming at the railroad station and other important objectives.  We were living at so-called Bresc II, i.e., the freight station, and it was very close from our home to the railroad tracks.  For safety reasons, myself and Tadek, we used to go to the fields, a little further from the station and the most probable objective for planes.  Sometimes my mother and Andzia would join us.

 

I think it was on the tenth or twelfth of September that we stayed over night in one house in the field when it was evident that the war was close.  We could hear firing of machine guns, throughout the night.  Next morning we went home and the Germans were already in the area.  The Germans didn't stay in Brzesc long.  On the seventeenth of September the first Soviet troops entered the city and the German troops retreated beyond the Bug river.


UNDER RUSSIAN OCCUPATION

 

The changes took place gradually but steadily.  First two of our four room apartment were taken up by a Russian doctor who came and took over the dispensary and the clinic.  Then my father started to complain that the new doctor in charge is harassing him for all kinds of reasons.  Then finally the confrontation came when she asked my father to carry coal from the truck to the shed.  My father considered this kind of a job below his professional status and refused.  He was dismissed for insubordination.  We moved to a small, one room apartment which my parents rented.  At that time there was only three of us: my parents and myself.  I really jumped ahead.  Let's start from the beginning.

 

Soon after the Russians entered Brzesc, the remnants of Polish army began to wander around the town.  It was a pitiful sight.  Soldiers in their uniforms, unshaven, hungry, confused, not knowing where to go and what to do with themselves, were wondering all over the area, asking for food, directions, information.  I will never forget on Sunday, when we were coming out of the church, a soldier crying in front of the people saying that he was ashamed of what he was doing but he was hungry and had to overcome his pride and asked for food.  Wladek, who was with me, invited him to come to our house, we fed him, gave him some food on his way and he left. This was very depressing.  But before the war my father foreseeing the future, that there will be scarcity of food, bought two big sacks of flour; one white and the other rye.  This was our main diet: "kluski" three times a day.  My mother designated one room as a "hostel" for the refugees civilians or soldiers.  Many a time somebody went to town to get something either for my parents or my brother or sister and came in a company of a stranger: guest for the night.  How many people went through our house I don't know but I am sure that there were many.  There were all kinds of people: refugees from western parts of Poland, soldiers, there were two Czechs who wanted to volunteer to Polish army to fight Germans, I could not remember them all.  One of the soldiers proposed marriage to Janka, but she was waiting for her Marian who was called up at the beginning of the war and never came back.  Nobody knows what happened to him.  Janka inquired about him but nobody knew anything. 

 

In the "hostel- room" there were mattresses made of straw on the floor and the "guests" were sleeping one next to the other.  Three times a day there was a feeding time: members of the family were treated the same way as the guests in the "hostel": "kluski" (dumplings) with milk.  Mother had a big kettle and it was like in the army ‑ everybody had to stay in line to get his fill.

Meantime trains loaded with ex‑Polish soldiers captured by the Russians were passing through Brzesc towards east.  On such occasions, my father would put a red cross armband on his jacket and used to go through the trains to see if there were sick or wounded.  Usually he was accompanied by a Russian soldier.  Sometimes, when the soldier would not see or was further away my father would leave the door open and a group of railroad men were waiting.  At an opportune moment they would  let the prisoners out.  Everything was arranged, there were places where they could go to be fed and given directions where to go. I wanted go with my father on his visits to the trains but he never let me.

 

One night somebody knocked at the door.  My father answered: it was a railroad man.  He said that Wladek, who was called up as a reserve lieutenant to the army, is at the Central Station and sent a message to us that he was being held prisoner and he wants to see us.  I should mention, that three members of our family were called up: Wladek, Piotrek and Adam, Andzia's husband.  We, my mother, father and everybody asked of any news about any of them.  One soldier said that he saw Lt. Lipinski, who was heavily wounded, dying and was calling others to kill him because he could not stand the pain any longer.  Of course everybody in our family was very upset and we had Wladek for dead.  So when the railroad man reported that Wladek was alive and well we were all stirred up.  We were all happy to know that he is alive, but there was a concern how to get him out of there.  It was about 2:00 AM.  We knew that the Russians are taking our soldiers, specially officers, to prison camps in Siberia.  At that time we did not know what fate was awaiting them (the mass graves in Katyn forests were discovered in 1943), but we knew that they are not going to have a good time there.  My father and Janka, took quickly some food, warm clothing and went to the Central Station to give Wladek at least something for his long journey to Russia.  When they arrived there, they found out that the railroad men went to the Russian Officer‑in‑Charge of the Station and pleaded with him that because my father was so good to the working class, railroad employees etc., to release his son, Wladek, out to freedom.  When my father asked the Russian to allow him to see his son who is a prisoner of war the Russian answered: "Because you supported the working people I will free your son".  My father didn't believe his ears...  They quickly took Wladek with him home.  There was a lot of crying (of joy of course) kissing and embracing.  We welcomed him as if he was coming from the grave.

About two days later a man came to our house.  It was Wladek schoolmate whom he met while being taken prisoner: Lt. Jerzy Roszkowski.  It just happen that when Wladek and Janka were going to "gimmazjum" i.e., high school, Jerzy Roszkowski and his brother were their classmates.  So our families knew each other well.  It was in town Lomza.  Now, when Wladek met him, while they were held at the Brzesc Central station, he told him that my father is a railroad physician, gave him our address and told him that if he can somehow escape from the Russians he will be taken care of.  So, there he was.  But what a sight!... He was all covered with the ashes.  He had a pair of horseback riding pants which were too tight, so he somehow put several safety pins in his fly to keep his pants on.  His underwear was sticking out from his fly in a very embarrassing way.  His jacket made out of a kind that diplomats used to wear with the tails cut off.  On the head he had a beret and he also had some coat.  It was a pitiful sight.  Of course, first he got a thorough scrubbing and washing and then he told his story: he escaped from the column of the prisoners and went to the first house he could find and said: "I am a Polish officer, please help me".  It happened that he came to a baker who hid him in one of the ovens that was full of ashes.  It was still hot but he did not complain.  He spent there one night and in the morning Russian soldiers came for bread.  He heard them talking but they did not look inside the oven.  The baker gave him some clothing and this was it.

 

As soon as the matters have settled somehow Wladek and Jerzy Roszkowski started to plan their journey to France,  where as the news were reaching us, the volunteers from all over the world were organizing Polish army.  Wladek's situation under the Reds was very dangerous, because as a judge he was considered to be an enemy of the proletariat.  As soon as they would find out about his position he would be arrested and that would be the end of him.  We were waiting all the time for England and France to start some fighting with the Germans but as history named it right, this was the period of "sitz-krieg" or sitting war.  They didn't move one finger against the Krautzes, they were just sitting and watching Poland going to hell. 

 

Well, Wladek and Jerzy were planning to make their way through Romania, Yugoslavia, Italy and to France.  Since Jerzy's wife was from the region of Poland (Lwów) which was near the Romanian border, they agreed that he will go there first and find out through his in-laws what is the best way to cross the border to Romania.  Romania at this time was neutral country, not occupied by the Germans.  After doing all the preparations he was going to notify Wladek and they were to go together on their way to France.

So, in late October he left.  Several weeks passed it was already getting cold and Wladek was concerned that in winter it will be more difficult to cross the border, through Carpathian Mountains to Romania.  Since no news were coming from Jerzy, Wladek decided to go to Warsaw first, and then on his own to Hungary or Romania and then to France.  So he left, it must have ben already in November.  Then, there was a terrible period of waiting and then, I remember, just about Christmas, a telegram came in French: "Je suis en bon sante, je vous salute‑ Wladek".  (I am in good health, I salute you, Wladek).  I will never forget this text.  We still didn't know where was it sent from ‑ France or anywhere else, but at least we knew that he was well and alive.  Years later, when I met him in England, he told me that he went to Warsaw, found that his apartment was intact, and went through the "green frontier" (illegally) to Hungary.  There he was interned, as thousands of other Polish refugees.  But the Polish government in exile from France, arranged with the Hungarian authorities that there were ways to smuggle Polish officers through Yugoslavia and Italy to France.  There, he tried to join the Polish forces, but since France was at that time on the verge of collapse, he was taken by a British ship to England and he joined the Polish Paratroop Brigade there.  

Meanwhile, Tadek was going to the Technical High School.  Something was happening that we didn't quite understand.  Suddenly, some strange guys started to come to visit him, he started to arrange "parties" that nobody of the household was allowed to attend; it looked strange.  One time, I remember, he came to the dinning room, took a crucifix from the wall and went back to the other room where the "party" was in progress.  Another time he asked me to stay outside of the house and report to him if there was anybody hanging around while they had a "party".  I realized that something is going on and wanted to get in the act but Tadek had his lips sealed and they didn't let me know anything.  But soon other things took place: Tadek's friends started to be arrested by the Reds in great numbers.  It was evident that somebody in the Technical High school did denounce to the Soviets about the "parties" which was nothing else but a poorly camouflaged anti-Soviet organization.  Soon  the news broke that it was a Soviet provocation: they sent somebody to organize these boys and then when they had them all accounted for they picked them out like chicken.  At that time my father realized that there is no time to lose; he took Tadek on a side and had "man-to-man" talk.  Tadek confessed that he participated in an organization and he was pretty scared that any night he himself could be arrested.  My parents decided to send him to our relatives in Lomza.  Sure enough, two or three nights after Tadek left, the ring at the door rang and a voice of one of our family friends asked to open the door. When my father opened the door there were three Soviets: an officer and two soldiers, NKVD.  NKVD stands for Narodnyj Commissariat of Vnutrennych  Diel, The National Commissariat of Internal Affairs.  This was the precursor of the KGB, the most hated and feared military police.  In order to have an access to somebody's home they used the following trick: take somebody whom the prospective arrestee would trust and ask him to go with them, to knock on the door etc.  This way they did not cause any suspicion that they are coming to arrest anybody and avoid the risk that he or she could escape. In our case they took along one of our friends, a railroad employee.  They asked where is Tadek‑ my father, of course, told them that he didn't know:‑

 

"You know, this young generation, they come and go whenever they please."

 

Meanwhile, when they were at our house, they searched the apartment, took a camera, some silver coins and left.  Fortunately, they didn't find our radio which was hidden in a wardrobe behind linens which we used to listen to the BBC from London.             

 

They asked my father to go with them, we already thought that he is going for good.  But after about five hours he came back.  They questioned him about Tadek, asked all kinds of questions, asked to spy on the others etc.  I think that the fact that my father had good reputation among railroad workers contributed to the relatively good treatment that he received from the Soviets.    After that the Soviets called up father couple of times for investigation but always let him go after couple of hours.  At that time Wladek was already gone so we were with my parents, Andzia with Leszek and her baby, Ziutek, and my sister Janka.

 

One morning Anna's husband came.  He was captured by the Soviets but somehow as a noncommissioned officer (he was a sergeant) he was released.  They were mainly after the officers, whom they were going to kill later on (see Murder of the Katyn Forest).  Soon after Adam (Andzia's husband) came they left for Lomza where they were living before the war.

 

Meanwhile, the Germans were accepting the refugees from the central part of Poland which was now General Government, i.e., sort of German colony.  The western part of Poland i.e., Slask, Poznan and Pomorze were incorporated into the Reich.  The central part of Poland, west of the river Bug and east of the three above provinces were General Government.  The eastern Poland, east of the river Bug, was occupied by the Russians. 

Soon the news came of the repressions in the General Government started and the atrocities beyond description.  That is well documented in books of history of the WWII, so I will skip it here.  In spite of that, Tadek, Janka, and Andzia with her children and husband decided to go on the German side.  To be eligible for repatriation it was necessary to demonstrate that one was a "Volksdeutch", i.e., of German origin, or that he or she was a resident of some place presently under German occupation. Tadek got false papers as Andrzej Rzemek. Rzemek was a student in Lomza but lived before the war in Myszyniec, where I was born, town which was now under Germans.  Jerzy Roszkowski's brother, teacher at Lomza high school, stole his papers for Tadek from the files.  The transfer point for the repatriation to the German occupation was in Brzesc, so we had an opportunity to see them go "on the other side".  We all went to the Brzesc Central, where they were waiting for transportation to Warsaw and spent with them the few precious hours before their departure.  We did not know that next time we see each other will be after the war.  For fear of being recognized by somebody in Brzesc (he was on "wanted list" Tadek dyed his hair, and tried to avoid public exposure as much as possible.  Tadek wrote from Warsaw later, that one of the Russian officials in Brzesc was his ex-class mate.  He apparently recognized him but only smiled and let him go.  They all left and I remained with my parents.  Soon after that my father was dismissed from work and we moved to a single room apartment as I mentioned earlier.

 

That year, 1939/40, I didn't go to school.  Somehow, everything was disorganized and I missed that year.  We always waited that something is going to change, that France and England will finally start fighting, that everything will be O.K.  But nothing changed.  We listened to the news from the BBC, about the Battle of Britain, about the war between Finland and the Soviets and of course about German atrocities in Poland.  Everybody was concerned about the ours in Warsaw.

 

Meanwhile, the Russians started mass deportations of Poles to Siberia.  In the first group went all settlers farmers who were given land in the eastern part of Poland after the World War I.  Usually they were veterans of the World War I or the veterans of the 1919/20 war with the Soviets when they invaded Poland and then were defeated in 1920.

 

The first transports left for Siberia in February 1940.  Next mass deportation was in April 1940 and that is when your mother was deported with Babcia and Bebe.  Dziadzia Kupczyk fled the Russians to Latvia and was there arrested by the Reds when they invaded that country.  I don't know if there were any other transports of Poles to Siberia in 1940/41.  As I mentioned before, sometime in 1940, my father was discharged from work and we moved to a small apartment in Brzesc.  My father's financial situation wasn't that bad because many railroad men knowing my father called him rather than the Russian woman doctors and of course they paid him.  So my father was very busy.  I don't know how long could this last, because in Soviet Russia there was no such thing as private practice, but at least when we were in Poland we were not hungry.

 

In 1940/41 session I started to go to school.  The school was reorganized in the Soviet fashion, i.e., they made 10 grades instead of our 6‑elementary, 4 years of junior and 2 years of "lyceum" (senior) high school.  In spite of the fact that I finished first year of "gimnazjum" (or 6th grade) they put me again in the 6th grade of the Soviet school.  I considered that this was below my status of an ex‑high school student but there was nothing I could do.  The teaching was in Polish with the Polish teachers, but they introduced Russian language, German language (Germany were Soviet's ally) and the syllabus was modeled upon the schools in Russia.  I remember the history was taught by  an officer of NKVD, of Polish origin, hundred percent communist.  In our history lesson every historic event was due to a struggle of classes.  Everything was as Marks and Engels predicted or set out in their "Capital".  This was my first encounter with the communist line of thinking.  Of course, everything was according to the Russian rules.  I remember, on the Easter Monday, usually a holiday in Polish schools as well as offices and in general, day free of work we had to go to school.  As a sign of our protest, somebody brought a bottle of vodka and during the lunch time we drunk it.  The teachers, Polish teachers, understood.  We used to get together with Heniek Olendzki and Zbyszek Pietras and talk about the times when we will have a chance to fight the Reds, chase them out of our country. 

 

When I think about these times I cannot help not to smile.  These were such childish dreams.  But then we took them very seriously and if something did happen that we had a chance to fight I am sure we would go.

 

In school there was heavy anti-religious propaganda.  Every so often we had to go to those meetings where they ridiculed religion in every possible way.  In place of religion the Soviets would substitute their communism.  They used such tricks as for example they would ask a small child:

 

"Do you want a candy?"

"Yes, I do" - child would say

 

Soviet: "Ask God to give you some". 

 

Of course, there was no candy.

 

The Soviet would then say : "Well, now ask Comrade Stalin for a candy."

Naturally, when the child asked Comrade Stalin for a candy it would get it.

They ridiculed the clergy, the liturgy, everything that was connected with religion.  Of course, we did not want to go to these meetings but they were mandatory. 

 

We were indoctrinated in the communist theory every day.  Now, in perspective of time I can understand why when Stalin died people were hysterical with grief in spite of being aware of the atrocities that were committed by the regime.  No matter how incredible it can be, anybody can be indoctrinated in believing into something if it is repeated long enough.  The same could be observed in Germany. There, the entire nation of "civilized" people, who produced such outstanding giants of humanity as Beethoven and Goethe, was lead to believe that they were the master race.  And yet, they could commit crimes against other human beings that are beyond the wildest imagination.  And the communist theory looks great on paper.  Marx  combined Hegel's historical dialectic with a materialist view of reality.  Hegel  philosophy was based on historical dialectic which postulates that every condition contains a contradiction, which evolution must resolve by a reconciling unity.  So, all historical events, any political system produces a contradiction which corrodes it.  Eventually, the final outcome will result in a combination of the two.  In other words, a thesis combines with an anti-thesis to result in a synthesis.  Marx and Engels applied this philosophy to the economic evolution.  Everything is a result of a struggle of classes.  Thus, a social system such as capitalism creates out of itself socialism which will destroy it. Out of this struggle a new system will emerge - communism.  In theory it sounds great; it's the practice that makes it rotten. Marx made several mistakes: he could not predict that the working class will organize in trade unions and will start negotiate their working conditions with the management.  Thus in a way the employees became part of the employers.  He could not foresee that his theory will be put in practice in the most backward country in Europe, Russia.  Any social system, except dictatorial, requires social discipline and social awareness.  In Russia, where people were under tyranny of the tsars for centuries there was none  of either, and the attractive sounding political system such as communism quickly degenerated into dictatorship.  Finally, one of the basic principles of any communal society is "take what you need, give what you can."  It sounds very good from the humanistic point of view.  Realities of life indicate that people are people and the opposite is closer to the truth.  Well, so much for that.

Surrender of France in June 1940 was a terrible blow to all of us.  I couldn't understand why Germany could conquer France on which we put all our hopes.  Of course, I was a product of Polish propaganda which was indoctrinating us into belief that Germany is run by a bunch of adventurers, a country without natural resources and soon will have to surrender overwhelmed by such powers as Poland, France and England.  Nobody said to us that our (Polish) 42 regiments of cavalry are useless against German panzer divisions.  They were good for parades but not for modern warfare.  The heroic charges of the lancers could be ridiculed as they were in the foreign literature, except that they were deadly in the terrible harvest of the machine guns and the armor against the flesh of the poor cavalry men.  It is not true that the lancers were charging against the tanks.  I know that this is what was written about in foreign press.  The truth was that a detachment of cavalry was surrounded by Germans.  They wanted to break out and according to their intelligence there were not supposed to be any German tanks in that area.  To their surprise several German tanks appeared.  Of course, they had heavy losses.  But the courage of  Polish soldiers sometimes bordering with insanity  was not only a legend.  Polish soldiers fought according to their tradition.  What failed them perhaps was the wisdom of the upper echelon of the command which left the country naked in the hour of danger without having a perspective for the modern warfare.  But this was not the first time in the history of mankind and probably not the last one that the footman is left by himself while his commanders run away.  The Polish command didn't run away but didn't prepare the country in a way in which She could defend herself. 

 

So this was the situation by the summer of 1941: everything seemed to be quiet and peaceful, and yet, it was evident that the two colossi, Germany and Russia, will jump to each other's throat.  There were indications that something is going to happen.  We were living near to the demarcation line between Russia and Germany and were able to observe increased activity of the army, frequent German planes over Russian territory, and in general there was a feeling of nervousness in the air.  Yet, trains full of all kinds of goods, grain, and other provisions were going to Germany every day. Stalin wanted to have Germans on his side at all costs.

 

This was also the time when my big odyssey started.  It was June 21, 1941.


DEPORTATION  

 

They came at about 2:30 am, an officer of NKVD and two privates.  This time they didn't have anybody to ask to answer the door: just knocked and came in.  I remember, my mother woke me up and immediately I realized what is going on.  They told us to take what we needed and be ready in one hour.  It was night June 19/20, 1941.

 

We were packing our belongings, some potatoes, clothing, etc., when my mother asked if she can take some Valerian drops, which was the medicine for the heart.  The officer refused.  My mother asked if we can take the mattresses which were just made before the war.  To our surprise the officer allowed to take them.. We were the last in their roundup for the night and they had some room on the truck, so he didn't object.

 

We packed our belongings on the truck and they took us to Brzesc Central, where on the side tracks were awaiting freight cars.  There was a long freight train ready, the box cars with iron bars in the windows, and people were being brought from all over the area.  Most of them were from Brzesc proper but there were also from the neighboring villages.  This I could never understood:  the Russians came "to free the peasants from the yoke of the Polish landlords" and yet, many of poor peasants were deported with us to Siberia.  Sometimes you could see the whole families, old people, small children, etc., being arrested and deported.  In our box car there was a grandfather, age 72, and two of his grandchildren 5 and 7.  These two lovely children were the center of attention of the entire car. What crimes against Soviet Union did they commit in their short lives is beyond me.  But this was an example of the Soviet justice.  Their parents were arrested previously.  It was later on that I heard that after the amnesty, the parents of these two kids came to Barnaul and found their children and soon after that their grandfather died.

 

Most of the families were without men: they were either arrested earlier or separated at the time of deportation.  In our case, we were lucky: my father was apparently too old (at that time he was 61) to be arrested or to represent any danger to the Soviet Union.  But yet, when I think about it now, I know of people in his age who were arrested or were separated from their families.  I guess it was pure luck.

When I think about the reasons for selection of the deportees I get lost.  There seem to be none.  There were people from all walks of life: young, old, poor, rich, educated, uneducated, children (see above), grownups in other words everybody.  There was a family of White Russians, two sisters with their children, their husbands have been arrested before.  Their husbands (at least one of them) were lawyers.  They spoke among themselves in Russian.  There was a Russian Orthodox priest with his son.  In our box car there was about 50 people.

 

We were held at the station the whole day June 21.  They let us out couple of times to go to the station latrines.  When I went with my father (men were taken separately from women) we looked at each other: it was easy to run away and hide ourselves in one of the railroad employees house.  But mother was on the train and we did not want her to be all by herself.  We went back.

 

People were coming to the train bringing something to eat, clothing, expressing their compassion.  But the spirits were good.  No despair.

 

During the night of 21‑22 of June 1940 we heard the train moving.  We realized that it was the departure time.  All of the sudden it became very quiet in the car and then somebody started to sing "Nie rzucim ziemi skad nasz ród" ("We won't forfeit the land of our roots").  Some women started to cry.

 

I don't think that at that time I realized the seriousness of the situation and the dramatic consequences of this moment for the rest of my life.  It was somehow inconceivable to me that I will leave Poland forever.  I envisioned myself returning to my native land as a grownup perhaps, after many years, to find everything the way it was when I was a boy.  Just as I read in many of the historical books that I liked so much.  I modeled myself right away as one of the characters from my books ‑ a pilgrim coming back to his country from far away lands after many years of absence.  Years have shown that these youthful visions were only in my imagination.  Realities of life proved to take my life on a completely different route.

 

The train was moving quickly, and by morning we realized that we were close to the prewar Russian border.  I should mention that the Polish rails had a different gauge than the Russians.  Poland railways were compatible with the rest of the Europe.  In order to facilitate transport of goods from Russia to Germany, after the invasion, the Russians extended their type of rails to Brzesc.  So, we didn't have to change our cars on our trip.

When we came to Smolensk we noticed that the station was bombed.  The party of people who went to bring food to the car found out from the local Russians that there are rumors that Germans invaded the territory occupied by the Ruskis.  Of course we were very glad to hear this: at last the two of our enemies will fight among themselves ‑ so much the better.  After a short stop we went further inside Russia.  The trip became more or less routine for the duration: once a day, at some station, or in the middle of nowhere, the guards would let us out to go to "bathroom".  Women and men together, each car separately.  You had to find some quiet place in the bushes to relieve yourself in some sort of a privacy.  It was difficult because the guards were all over the place, bayonets on their rifles, keeping an eye on everybody.  We found out later that all other box cars had a hole in the floor for sanitary purposes.  Our car didn't have that vital detail.  In connection with this there were terrible situations.  With all fairness, I have to admit that, the guards didn't show any hostile feelings towards us.  Just indifference.  They must have been seasoned workers that escorted many people to the place of their exile, and we were one more.  We asked them and sometimes they agreed not to close the door completely, so that we, boys could urinate when the train was in motion.  Women, unfortunately, suffered terribly.

Mrs. Krynicky a “White Russian” who lived in Poland, was a character....  Everyday she would start a conversation with the guard, in her exquisite, literary Russian, asking him to let us out "for a walk", meaning to the bathroom.  Invariably, he would answer: "Niet prikaza." (No order).  Gradually, Mrs. Krynicky would increase her demand and her pleading would change the language so that she would curse the poor guard in words so profane that a sergeant of marines would blush.  The poor soldier kept away from her.  She became terror of the escort.  Once a day, we would stop at some station and they would give us a "karmioshka" (food).  It consisted usually of some soup or barley (kasha) if we were lucky.  Once, I think in Svierdlovsk, the soup had worms so big and so many that it was decided to throw it away.  That day we went to sleep hungry.

 

I spent many hours at the window trying to get a glimpse of the countryside.  I would deny that I was curious to see it.  One could see that it was not a happy land.  We were passing villages with small houses with thatched roofs, people going about their daily chores seemed to be subdued, without a smile.  At railroad stations there was ever present NKVD. We went through Tambov where my father was stationed during his military service before going to the Russo-Japanese war in 1905.  This was the first time that I went outside of Poland.  It was changing from the plains of Byelorussia, then the monotonous country of the Russia, until we came to the Ural Mountains.  Then the train was going between rocks that sometimes you could reach them by hand.  I think, we crossed the Volga river at Saratov.  Somehow, it was our destiny that practically every generation had to go to Siberia.  My father went there twice: once as a Russian soldier and then as an exile; my great grandfather died in Siberia; and I went there as an exiled.   At nights I listened to the monotonous sound of the wheels, thinking that every sound takes me further and further away from my country.     

 

Couple of times, I don't remember where, we noticed the stations bombed and the rumors about the war between Germany and Russia were confirmed. It became apparent that the Germans started the fighting on the night of our departure from Poland.  We started our odyssey in the evening and they attacked in the morning on the 22 June, 1941.  Only few hours of difference and how different would be my life.  I don't know which would be better.  Of what I heard how the Germans treated Poles, I might be grateful to the Russians for the deportation.  Otherwise, I might not survive the war.

 


BARNAUL

 

After 12 days of travel we arrived to a fair city of Barnaul.  Barnaul is a capital city of the region called Altaiski Krai ‑ or Altai Country in English.  It is a beautiful country.  When I think of it now, it resembles Vermont or New Hampshire.  Barnaul itself is situated at the foot of high Altai mountains, just like Denver, Colorado and the mountains could be seen at a distance.  Only the climate is much more severe: hot summers and bitterly cold winters with plenty of snow.  When we came there it was quite warm though not hot.  We were brought to one of the suburbs of Barnaul "Vostochnyi Poselok" or Eastern Settlement.  It was near one of the largest rivers in Russia, Ob.  The Russians were rather sympathetic to us. I will never forget the scene when we were being detrained and a group of Russian women came to us and asked if we want anything to eat or drink.  They told us that they were exiled from their from somewhere some 10 years ago in similar conditions.  I learned later that to be exiled from one place to another was part of normal life in Russia.  This was due to Stalin's paranoia and communist system.

 

We were put in a large hall hat was used as a "Krasnyj Ugalok", Red Corner in Russian.  These were sort of a local community clubs that served as all-purpose assembly rooms, movie houses, meetings and every other purpose imaginable.  Of course, every meeting or other communal activity had to be sanctified and approved by the local party boss.  In Soviet Russia nothing, absolutely nothing could be done without approval of the Party.  The Party, of course I am thinking about the Communist Party controlled everybody's life in every respect.  Sometimes I thought why Boris Pasternak got all his honors for the "Doctor Zivago", which is a nice novel but perhaps not merits the Nobel Prize.  I think that he received it for the message that he passed to the world in his book, that in spite of all the controls that the state imposed on the Russian people, in spite of all the efforts to kill existence of individual thoughts and feelings, people are still the same as before, they have a right to feel, to love, to be themselves.  That is in human nature and no matter what restrictions any regime will impose on people it will never change.

We were sleeping on the floor, next to our things without any privacy whatsoever. There was about 400 people in that room sitting on our belongings. It was really a communal living.  I don't remember now if food was supplied to us or we had to provide it by our own means, but I have a vague recollections of my mother cooking something on a makeshift fire outside.  We were waiting for some more permanent place to live, killing our time by endless discussions about our future, politics and of course, about the situation on the Russian front.  We did not know much from the press because papers were scarce and additionally, we did not trust the Soviet press.            

 

After a few days the NKVD told us that we will occupy the temporarily built barracks while the permanent barracks, better equipped for the cold Siberian winters were being built.  Those who will work will have a priority in getting accommodation in the permanent barracks.  My father was not eligible to work( too old) but my mother and I volunteered.  Later on they let my mother to stay home. I wanted to work with my friends who were pulling logs of wood to the river on horses but they didn't take me.  NKVD said that I was too young.  My job was to carry mortar to the plasterer.  Every once in a while the plasterer, usually a woman, would yell at the top of her lungs "Rastvoru" (Mortar) then we would get couple of shovels of the mortar and bring it to her.  They were working on the permanent barracks.  The barracks  consisted of a long corridor in the middle and had one room units on each side.  Each room was about 8' x 12' feet.  There was enough room to put two narrow beds against each wall and a small table in the middle.  At the end of the corridor there was a communal kitchen.  The construction of the barracks was very simple:  two layers of boards 1"x 6", separated by studs, leaving about 4" between, constituted the inside and outside surfaces of walls, the space between the two layers of wooden boards was filled with wood filings which formed the insulation.  The walls were plastered inside and I don't remember how they were finished outside.  The whole idea was pretty practical and effective, except that after certain time the wood filings did settle down and the upper part of the structure was practically uninsulated which in Siberia was very bad idea.  Anyhow, this was the housing, the Soviet style.

 

We went to Barnaul several times.  It was not a very attractive place. Sidewalks were made of wooden boards and streets ware not paved.  Practically all houses were made of wood.  I don't remember any brick or reinforced concrete houses.  Of course, there was a movie house which the Soviets used for propaganda purposes.

Since the wages from my work was not much (I think it was 180 rubles per month) and there was practically nothing that one could buy with these money, it was more profitable to go to the river, Ob, and fish.  At least you could get something that you could eat.  Ob, the second largest river in Russia after the Volga, at that time, was river full of fish.  It was not unusual for me to bring home 15‑20 lb of fish or more.  We had fish in every possible shape and form:  fried, cooked, dried for the future winter time and so on.  Also, as soon as it became known that my father was a physician, many Russians having more confidence in a Polish doctor than  their own,  started to ask my father to see their sick.  My father, in return for the medical visits, since he was actually not licensed to practice, didn't take any money but did not refuse if they offered something to eat.  So, more fish, because the Russians hardly had anything else.  But soon after us there arrived a lot of Lithuanians usually rich farmers (Kulaks‑in Russian) and they brought with them large amounts of food.  So, when they started to call my father he would bring home a piece of pork lard or something like that.  That was valuable.  My mother would save it for winter, which everybody was afraid of.  Besides fish the only other sources of food were either black market or the dining hall of the Vostochnyi Poselok.  At the black market one could get some potatoes that the locals would sell.  Sometimes, in Barnaul, it was possible to get some meat, but that was very expensive.

We were getting 500 g. of bread per day.  Under normal conditions there would be enough of other things to eat and one would not be hungry.  If one gets only the bread and nothing else, 500 g. is definitely not enough.  I remember, once we were fishing, and a Russian boy, who was fishing next to me asked me to take care of his "zakid".  Zakid was a long string that had several hooks attached to it.  One end of the string was anchored a the bank of the river and the other had a stone that was thrown into the water across the river.  After some 15 minutes you pulled the zakid out of the water and usually there were several fishes on the hooks.  So, this boy disappeared for a while.  After ˝ hour he came back and said:

 

"Well, I just had my 500 grams of bread, and that's until tomorrow."         

 

To me this simple incident symbolized the quiet resignation with which  Russian people accepted their fate in times of war. It is so typical to accept their fortunes and misfortunes with a stoic melancholy.  Perhaps it is best illustrated by Dostoyevsky in "Brothers Karamazov" where Misha brings upon himself the burden of guild and suffers for the crimes committed by the others. 

 

In Barnaul I improved my knowledge of the Russian language.  It should be noted, however, that the people that were there were not exactly the most educated and the words that I learned from them was not the ones that I would repeat in a mixed company.  But, nevertheless, it was a learning experience.    

Once somebody told us that at a distance of about 15 km. there is a kolkoz (collective farm) and there is a lot of potatoes left in the ground after the tractor finished to excavate them.  Armed with shovels and sacks a group of us, mostly young people, went to the kolkoz.  What we were told was true: there was a lot of potatoes in the ground and soon we filled our sacks of potatoes.  As we were almost ready to start our walk home, several men on horses came from the kolkoz, flagellated us with their whips and confiscated our potatoes.  I was lucky in that I saw them coming early enough to hide in nearby bushes and I escaped the whipping and confiscating of my potatoes but others were beaten pretty bad.  This was a bitter awakening to the fact that we were in the Soviet "Paradise" and from time to time they reminded us that their justice is not what is commonly accepted.  Although it was obvious that these potatoes will rot in the ground it was not allowed to take them from the kolkoz territory no matter what.  We could deduct from this that he or she will rot himself in the Soviet Union like those potatoes. 

 

Incidents like these were not unusual in Soviet Russia.  This was the result of their "planned economy."  Sometimes, they would bring shoes to the store.  Usually there was only one store in a kolhoz.   Everybody would line up in a queue for the shoes. But they would find out that the shoes were only sizes 6, 7, 11 and 12.  Anybody who did not fall in these sizes was out of luck!  Sometimes in one village there was plenty of sugar but they did not have salt and in another village, few miles away, the situation was reverse.   

Somehow, I never lost my firm belief that our experiences are only temporary and somehow things will turn for the better.  This strong optimism throughout the entire duration of my odyssey helped me enormously.  Later on, when the war ended and it became obvious that we could not return to Poland because the allies gave  her to the Russians and my dream of return to free Poland collapsed and people were at the extreme despair, going crazy, committing suicide, somehow I always believed that there will be a turn for the better, that we will come out of

this.  The same was when I was in combat: when often it seemed that this is the end, that I will never come out of this situation alive. Sometimes, when pieces of artillery shells were passing left and right over my head with their characteristic noise, when dead or wounded reminded me that this is not a joke but real, deadly war, I asked myself if this is the last moment of my life.  In those moments, sorrowful moments when I said to myself "goodbye life"‑ somehow at the back of my brain there was a ray of hope that perhaps the fate will spare me and I will survive.  I guess many soldiers feel that way, everybody must be an optimist ‑ nobody wants to admit to himself that this is it ‑ the encounter of the worst kind.....

Well, back to Barnaul......

I will never forget our first trip to Russian bath.  Of course, it was a public bath.  Russians can be deprived of everything but they will never be deprived of their "bania".   You probably heard about it.  But it is an experience.  There is a large room, with a pile of hot rocks in the middle.  Fire is going under the rocks all the time to keep them hot.   Every once in a while somebody throws a bucket full of water on the stones and the room fills up with steam.  People recline or seat on the benches which are arranged in a amphitheatrically fashion.  The higher you climb the hotter it gets.  At the top the air is so hot and so saturated with steam that it is difficult to breathe.  And they flagellate themselves with twigs until their bodies are red.

 

We had to disrobe in a locker room and go to the next room to get soap and a towel.  There was a large framed woman giving out these item.  I was a shy boy of fifteen and standing naked in front of a woman was very  painful experience.   But the worst was to come later.  After I did have my bath, I opened  swinging door  not realizing that they lead to the women's  bath.  The room was full of steam which obstructed my vision and at first I did not realized that they are women.  All of the sudden I was surrounded by naked women giggling, pulling me in all directions... I made a quick retreat and when I reentered men's compartment I was greeted with laughs - "Where did you take your bath?".   I don't know if I was ever as embarrassed as at that time.                

 

On political scene there were important developments.  Since the Germans attacked Russia, the Soviets joined the allies in their struggle against the Nazis. As a result of this, sometime  by the end of July, 1941, the Soviet papers announced  that they started the talks with the Polish government in exile, in London, and on the basis of these talks all Poles who were either exiled like us or were arrested and found themselves in the Soviet Union will be given amnesty.  Additionally, Polish Army was to be formed out of these people under Polish command to fight the common aggressor ‑ Germans.  The Polish embassy was established in Kuybyshev and the staff of the Polish Army in Buzuluk.  Our life, meanwhile, was not affected immediately by these events.

Upon hearing about the amnesty, my father wrote to the staff of the Polish Army asking them where we should go to join the army: he as a doctor, my mother as a nurse (she was a qualified midwife when she was young, and in the World War I she was a nurse) and I as a volunteer.  To our surprise (in Russia when letter comes it is an event) a response came instructing us to go in the area of Tashkent because the Polish Army will be evacuated to that region pretty soon also.  Meanwhile we knew that Piotrek's wife and his two daughters were deported like us to relatively close Kazakhstan.  We knew her address and wrote a letter asking her if she wants to join us so that all of us could go to Tashkent.  I was supposed to go to help her to come to Barnaul.  I was excited about my new role of traveling all alone and rescuing my sister‑in‑law and her two daughters.  To our disappointment, she responded that she has got a goat,  a sign of prosperity in Russia, and  has secured enough supplies of food to survive the next winter and she feels more secure by staying where she is rather than leaving everything and going to face the dangers of travel. I still remember her address: Kazakhstan, Povladarskaja Oblasc, Kokshetovskij Rajon, Kolhoz Kara‑Bulak.  Having her negative response, my father decided to act: he organized the Polish people at the Vostochnyi Poselok and convinced them, that it would be better for us if we move south to Tashkent: if not to join the Polish Army, we will gain protection of the Polish authorities and at least the climate will be warmer in the winter.  Also, since there is a better climate there will be easier to find something to eat.  They listened.  My father found 54 people who were willing to go with us.  I will always admire my father's insight and his common sense approach to life ‑ the decision to get out from Barnaul was one of his better achievements.  We found out later that soon after we left the Soviets changed their minds about many things regarding our freedom.  Soon after we left they did not allow anybody to leave Barnaul and people there had to fight for survival to the end of the war.  Additionally, after our army was evacuated to Persia, (more about this later) Russians organized another Polish Army under renegade general Berling who decided to cooperate with  Russians.  This army in which Piotr served (see later) was fighting on the Russian front against the Germans and was subjected to the draconian rules and regulations of the Red Army.  There were several instances when it came practically to open fighting between the Polish Berling Army and the Reds. One  example of such conflicts was in Warsaw, during the Warsaw uprising, in September, 1944.  At that time the Red Army was already on the other (eastern) bank of Vistula river when the Polish Home Army in Warsaw, which is on the western side of the Vistula, was being decimated by overwhelming Germans forces.  Detachments of the Berling Army crossed the Vistula and with heavy losses established a beachhead on the western side of the river.  At that time the Red commanders gave orders to retreat, forbade to provide any supplies, ammunition, etc.  They had to retreat leaving the insurgents to their doom.

So, my father organized this group of people to go South.  It wasn't supposed to be a luxury type of a trip.  They hired two box cars, they collected if I remember right, 250 rubbles per person and the two cars were to be attached to a train going to Kokand, which is in Fergana Valley, near to Tashkent.  There were some agonizing moments when the station master on the last day said that there were some changes in his orders and he is not able to provide the cars.  My father quickly recognized the fact that all he wanted was a bribe.  They collected quickly additional 400 rubbles and my father delegated one good looking woman to go to talk to the station master.  During the conversation when she was pleading for the damned cars, she without saying anything just put the envelope with the money in the drawer of his desk.  He didn't promise anything and there was no talk about the money at all, but at the appointed time a man came and said that we should go to the station, the box cars are waiting.  It was already mid ‑ or late October when we were loading our things onto the cars.  It was getting cold.  I will never forget that night.  I had to load not only our worldly possession but also, being a nice guy, I carried the stuff of couple of elderly women who attached themselves to our family.  It was about ˝ of a mile to carry the luggage and the time the two women  were walking next to me all the time urging me to be careful about their stuff and expressing their concern that something might be broken.  And they had tons of luggage. I was on the point of dropping something just to break it just to give them a reason for their worries.  Finally, everything was on the train.  I was completely exhausted.

 

On that night just when we were loading our luggage, a train with the wounded came to the station.  The NKVD completely surrounded the platforms and nobody was allowed to see the wounded.  Later on, I realized the contrast between the Soviet Russia and other countries, e.g., USA.  When wounded were coming here from Vietnam, they were treated with honors, everybody was allowed to see them, people were allowed to express their compassion. Nothing like that in Russia.  Nobody knows anything, everybody minds his or her business.  If you want to know something that you are not supposed to know, they will take care of you quickly.

 

At that time we knew that the things were going bad for the Russians.  It was not written in the newspapers but people were talking about the enormous losses in men and material and about German advances on all fronts.  In spite of the facts that Germans were our enemies we were glad to see the Soviet Russia suffering defeat in the hope that when Germans will get further and further into the Russian steppes it will be more difficult for them to get out from this trap.  We didn't realize how close it was for the Soviets to collapse altogether and them probably nothing would save the world from the German domination.  We didn't know at that time about the extermination camps, but before we were even deported we were told about hundreds of Poles, Jews, and Gypsies, that were killed for  any German soldier killed by the underground .  My parents worried all the time about the ones who were in Warsaw, we were completely deprived of any news about them.  So, we set on our trip towards Tashkent in hope that soon we will be able to establish contact with the Polish Army.


SOUTH OF RUSSIA

 

After long and tiring journey (at least a week or ten days) we arrived to Kokand.  Kokand is a fairly large town, located in Fergana Valley, a very fertile area, about two hundred kilometers east of Tashkent.  This was the Uzbekistan Republic.  We rented a room from the local Uzbek family and anxiously awaited any news about Polish army. 

 

This was my first exposure to oriental life and environment.  The Uzbeks are Muslims, very keen on preserving their customs and religion. They had definite Mongolian features:  They hated the Russians and their communist regime that destroyed their traditional way of life.  The entire southern belt of Soviet Union comprising Kirghizstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and most of  Kazakhstan was subjugated to the Russians  after the 1917 Revolution as late as in the thirties.  Before, although nominally there territories belonged to Russia, it was really no-man's land where the law of the land was administered and enforced by the local landlords, according to their wishes. In spite of Soviet propaganda and various rules aiming at changing their ethnic lifestyle the local people preserved many of their customs and traditions.  They were warring their colorful round hats, their caftans, their pastime was mostly in "chaihana"  where they were sitting for hours sipping tea and talking.  Chaihana was a large room with a wooden platform raised about 18 inches above floor, covered with some dirty rugs.  The customers were sitting with their legs crossed.  Families had their meals there.  A meal usually consisted of large, bowl of rise pilaf.  The Uzbeks would sit around the bawl and eat it with three fingers of their left hand from the same bowl.

 

Chaihana was an unique institution. It served as a meeting place, restaurant, cafe, or a hotel. You could sleep there for days and nobody would disturb you.  

The personal hygiene of the Uzbeks had much to be desired.  They had plenty of lice and since sanitary facilities were usually not available, their did their bodily functions wherever they could find a place suitable for it. Their attitude towards us was indifferent.  They did not know how we did come to their country and probably they did not care. Probably they thought that we were Russian refugees, since we looked the same as Russians. There was also plenty of Russians who were living  in Uzbekistan. 

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