Wacław Makowski, gunner, aged 23, no occupation, unmarried.
On 7 May 1941, I was taken to the Soviet army, to the 728th Infantry Regiment which stationed in Mozdok, Caucasus. I left my old mother at home, without any means of support.
After the outbreak of the Polish-Russian war, I was taken to the front out of Kiev together with the entire regiment, from which I was withdrawn as a socially dangerous element (sotsyalno-opasniy).
Everyone who came from Poland was withdrawn from the front. From out of Kiev, we went on foot, with very little to eat (for three days we didn’t eat anything at all) to Pryluky. The officer who was leading us, didn’t even allow us to drink water, firing a revolver above our heads. Our group comprised 58 people. There were a few Poles, with Germans from the autonomous German Republic by the Volga River prevailing, followed by Ukrainians, Belarusians and Jews from Poland. A few thousands of those withdrawn from the front were gathered in Pryluky, from where, in groups of 80 people, we were sent to a kolkhoz, at which we arrived barely alive, having traveled the whole day. Here, we received food only after three days, and were sent to work in the fields. In the kolkhoz, we found out about the Polish- Russian agreement.
After 12 days of work, they led us back to Pryluky, where we were separated from Germans, loaded into wagons and transported in an unknown direction. They only mentioned that Poles would be probably sent to the Polish army, but, as it turned out later, this was a lie in order for us to be transported easily.
We traveled by train two weeks in very difficult conditions. Firstly, in the wagon there were plenty of people (80), secondly, the food was given in negligible portions, i.e., a piece of smelly fish and a piece of bread, sometimes a little sugar.
Having been unloaded from the wagons, we realized that we were in Ural, in Nizhny Tagil. Here, they accommodated us next to a large wagon factory in barracks made of boards. We learned that we were the 768th labor battalion. From that moment on, the days of hard work in the camp began. Housing conditions were very poor. There was only a roof over our heads, but it was leaking, and the walls were full of holes. However, the conditions deteriorated when after a month we were transported 35 kilometers away from the city to a forest, where there was nothing else but trees. Here we lived for some time in the open air, having only a mattress and a blanket for our disposal (and this was the beginning of October), before we dug the dugouts. They were wet and cold (there were no stoves). Here, the exploitation of our work started for good.
As regards food (daily portion comprised 0.8 kilograms of bread, tea in the morning, half a liter of soup – almost only water – for dinner and the same for supper, sometimes a piece of herring – one herring for four or six people), the quotas were very high. For example: during the day, one person had to uproot four trees usually located on rocks, or dig out 10.4 cubic meters of hard soil, or move 1.5 cubic meters of stone to a distance of 50 meters. For failure to meet the quotas, they punished us with light arrest, i.e., half of daily portion of bread, and we had to sleep the entire night on the ground in a small dugout, having only one blanket, surrounded by guards, and normally work during the day.
Following a month of work, we were transported back to Nizhny Tagil. The conditions deteriorated even more. We were placed in large dugouts, 80 people in each, without beds, we slept on boards placed on the ground, and the temperature dropped below minus 45 degrees. Our shoes and clothes were completely worn out. We were almost naked and barefoot. Some of us received donkey jackets and padded trousers. So as not to freeze our feet, we had to put on bast shoes, which would tear up after a few days. A pair of them cost seven rubles.
At that time, we were treated like soldiers, i.e., we received food and soldier’s pay (ten rubles per month), and the discipline was also similar as that in the army.
In the dugouts it was very cold, despite the fact that there were two tin heaters. There was no firewood, so we had to steal boards in the factory. Hygienic conditions were extremely bad. Everyone had lice, although the underwear was changed every ten days and we bathed in the bathhouse also every ten days. They would give us clean underwear which was very badly washed and full of lice.
We had to work in great frost exceeding 45 degrees below zero, wearing very poor clothes. The quotas were very high. The food was deteriorating day by day. A lot of people had their noses, ears, feet, and hands frostbitten, and in December people began to swell and even die. From among Poles nobody died, but a few Ukrainians from Bessarabia did.
They treated us not like humans, but like labor force. Cultural life was non-existent. From time to time they would read news from the newspapers or hold communist talks.
Medical assistance was acceptable, with the medical personnel being made up of Jews from Poland, quite professional, but there were no medicines and despite the doctors’ efforts the diseases kept spreading.
For failure to meet the quotas, we were punished with light arrest, or left overnight to work to meet the quotas, and then we had to work the whole next day without supper and breakfast, and came back to the dugout in the evening together with the rest of people, where we received a fair slating. They called us “Polish fascists” or “Polish parasites.”
The lack of food caused that a colleague would steal another’s last piece of bread from under his head when he was sleeping after hard work. As a result of difficult work conditions and frost, 50% of people were unable to work. However, the Russian authorities did not take that into account, and forced the half-sick people to work.
In the city, there were 13 such labor camps. In our battalion, there were about 900 people, including some 22 Poles.
In January 1942, I saw a Pole being buried, who had died in one of the labor battalions. For this purpose, a single coffin was used, in which the naked body of the deceased was transported, thrown into a pit, and the coffin was brought back to be reused.
Some people tried to escape (Ukrainians and Jews), but with no success – they were captured, several of them were shot, and the rest of them was convicted to eight or ten years of hard work in the labor camps.
I could communicate with my mother only after the outbreak of the Polish-Russian war.
I wrote an application in which I requested to be allowed to join the Polish army, but this was in vain. They explained to us that we were their citizens, not Polish citizens, so why should they give their citizens to somebody else’s army. It was only in mid-February 1942 when the Polish Military Commission came to the battalion, which was made up of a lieutenant, a doctor, and a Russian officer. Only this commission saved us from this hell and from starvation. Just before the departure, I met the commander of the entire garrison, the lieutenant colonel (I don’t remember his name), who asked me: “Are you going to the Polish army, comrade?” “Yes, comrade colonel.” “Don’t go, you were brought up with the Soviets for so long, we will improve your conditions, and after the war you will be able to educate further. This is a capitalist army; they will hit you in the face there.” And I replied: “They will not hit me in the face, and I have to go to the Polish army because this is my bounden duty. Thank you very much for your better conditions, I’ve had enough!”
On 24 February 1942, we went for the army along with the entire transport of about one thousand people. The travel conditions were very difficult and (as far as I know) two Poles died on the way. On 15 May 1942 we arrived in Lugovoy, where I joined the Polish army.
7 March 1943